Luthiel's Song: The War of Mists

by Robert Marston Fannéy

Luthiel raised an eyebrow at Vanye.

  “We couldn’t keep her away,” the Blade Dancer said evenly. “She’s even taken on a title. Queen’s Secret-Keeper.”

  Leowin smiled slyly and she looked out of the corner of her eye at Vanye. The Blade Dancer gave a half-smile in return, then looked away.

  “Yes. You need me around,” Leowin said. “This way it sounds official. But it doesn’t mean you’re not my sister any more either. Next time you do something dangerous, like last night, I’ll box your ears.”

  “Box my ears?” Luthiel smiled. Being a queen didn’t change some things. Her eyes wandered over to Vanye who was still standing stiffly. Thinking of his discomfort, and looking sidelong at Leowin who’d gone back to smoothing her dress, Luthiel wondered at the tension between them. How long has this been happening? she thought. How long could it continue? Will they wander forever at the borders of love?

  She turned her eyes back to the Blade Dancer who still stood straight as a bowstring. There is deep danger too. He could fall into madness in an instant. Where would Ithilden be without a Faelord to lead her? Taking one last look, an idea slowly formed in Luthiel’s mind.

  “I’m glad you both came to tell me about the Wisdom,” she said. “But if you don’t mind, I’d like to meet with her alone first.”

  Vanye’s sharp eyes swung toward Luthiel even as Leowin stiffened.

  “It’ll just be for a moment, then I’ll want you both to be here.”

  Vanye stood, gave a slight bow, and then was sweeping toward the entrance. Leowin seemed puzzled as she turned and walked blindly toward the opening. They both arrived at the same time. It was too narrow for them to pass together so they came to an awkward stop. Leowin looked up at Vanye who stepped back and lifted his hand, letting her pass.

  As they exited, Luthiel stood and followed, poking her head through the opening and looking out after them. They’d only made their way a short distance along the branch when she caught them. It was narrow, with smaller arching branches forming rounded walls on either side. The tight confines pushed Leowin and Vanye closer together. Both walked stiffly down the hall. Leowin held her head tilted at a self-conscious angle. Vanye, uncharacteristically, didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.

  “Vanye!” Luthiel called after them.

  Together they turned to look at her. Turning around in such a tight passage brought them even closer together so that, though they didn’t touch, only inches separated them.

  “What is the extent of my power?” she continued in an official tone. “What can I command?”

  “I am to be King of Ithilden alone, but you the Queen of all the Faelands. I am your man,” Vanye replied.

  Luthiel stepped forward into the cramped space and walked down the hall. She reached out, taking one of the Blade Dancer’s hands in hers. It was large and rough. But there was also a gentleness to it. “Then I command you, Vanye. Tell me. Are you mad?”

  Leowin’s eyes flashed and her mouth narrowed in irritation.

  Vanye’s face grew stern and he took a step away from Luthiel, starting to withdraw his hand. But Luthiel tightened her grip, holding it fast.

  “Mad? What do you mean?” Vanye replied.

  Luthiel drew herself up. Her face became firm and she angled her head, staring Vanye directly in the eyes. “Have you fallen into madness?” She shifted her eyes to Leowin and then turned back to him. “Have you lost Li?”

  Vanye stared back at Luthiel and his brows fell in anger. It was all Luthiel could do not to back away from his glare. But she held firm.

  “Do you question me?” His Cat-o-Fae flicked in agitation. This motion sent petals flying. Some of them landed on Leowin who was squeezed in close beside him.

  “You are in love with Leowin,” Luthiel said.

  Both Vanye and Leowin drew back from her.

  “Luthiel!” Leowin exclaimed.

  But Luthiel held firm. “You have broken your Blade Dancer’s oath,” she said to Vanye. “Many others would have fallen to madness by now.”

  Vanye’s Cat-o-Fae twitched again, this time extending its blades like the flexing of great claws. Luthiel released the Blade Dancer’s hand and stepped back, eyeing the weapon’s threatening motions.

  “I command a test,” she said to Vanye and Leowin. “A test of Li.”

  Leowin turned to Vanye and then back to her. “Luthiel!” she said sharply.

  Vanye bowed stiffly to Luthiel. “Very well. I will prove it to you this afternoon at sparring practice.”

  “That is not my test,” Luthiel replied.

  “Luthiel,” Leowin said, this time with too much control.

  There they stood, side by side, only inches from one another and still not touching. The narrow passage seemed to wrap around them like a cocoon, pushing them still closer. Vanye, who had seemed strong a moment before, now looked uncertain. The warrior ever ready for decisive action, but suddenly without an aim or objective. Leowin stood straight as a board. Refusing to look at Vanye, she glared at Luthiel even as color slowly bloomed on her face. Luthiel saw her out of the corner of her eye but refused to acknowledge the demand in her eyes.

  “What, then, would you have me do?” Vanye replied finally.

  “I would have done with your pining looks,” Luthiel said. “You are to kiss my sister.”

  Silence fell between them. All was still. Luthiel could see motes floating in the dim light streaming through the branches.

  “This is beyond duty,” Vanye snapped.

  Leowin turned and began to storm off down the hall. But the violent motion brought her arm brushing against Vanye’s and she paused. In that moment, before she surged away from them, Luthiel grabbed her sister by the hand.

  “Leowin! Would you look at him? Should anyone else kiss him?”

  Leowin lifted her head and stared proudly at Luthiel. Then she slowly turned her face to Vanye. Their shoulders squared, the passage so narrow the tips of their toes nearly touched.

  “No. No one,” she said softly.

  Yet still they stood apart, close but with not an inch of them touching.

  Luthiel took Leowin’s hand and pressed it into Vanye’s. It was as if a bowstring had snapped. At their hands coming together, Leowin leaned into Vanye and the Blade Dancer swung an arm around her to keep her standing.

  “I am your Queen,” Luthiel said with force. “I will brook no dissention. I command you both to kiss.”

  Then, leaning down, Vanye kissed her full on the lips. The kiss lingered and Luthiel could hear Leowin let out a little sigh.

  Satisfied, Luthiel clapped her hands together. Startled, the two stepped away as though awoken from a dream.

  “Blade Dancer, Vanye. You have demonstrated your ability to maintain sanity while being in love. It is no small feat for even a regular man,” she said as a smile touched her lips. “But for a Blade Dancer it is truly exceptional.”

  Vanye seemed at a loss for words.

  “You have my blessing,” Luthiel said softly.

  And at this moment, the Wisdom whispered around the corner at the hall’s other end and slowly made her way toward them.

  There was an awkward moment when they didn’t see her and she stood there, conspicuously looking at a wind charm. But Luthiel’s eyes found her. When they did, she felt a sense of calm interest come over her. The lady was of middle height and wore brightly colored robes. A pouch of luminous blue, green and aqua patches hung from one shoulder. In the pouch were books, what looked like a crystal wand with a loop at the end, and candies wrapped in leaves. Her hair was dark and pulled back and her kind eyes twinkled over spectacles. There was an air of comfort and fun about her. But beneath it all, Luthiel could sense a deep knowledge and understanding.

  Leowin, who’d finally taken her eyes off Vanye, took the lady in. “Now there’s a real Wisdom,” she whispered in Luthiel’s ear.

  Luthiel nodded and took a step forward, extending her hand.

  The lady looked a little fuddled bu
t didn’t hesitate to press her hand into Luthiel’s.

  “Hello Luthiel,” she said with a warm smile. “My name is Margareth. I’ve come to help you. You and I are on the same side, I think.”

  Luthiel’s sense of relief was overwhelming. She wondered how so few words could give such comfort. She stood for a moment looking at the lady and sensed in Margareth what she’d hoped to find in all Wisdom.

  “Thank you, Margareth,” she said after a little pause. “Please, come into my room and make yourself comfortable.” She turned and led them back into the chamber. “I am very grateful,” she said after they all were seated. “I didn’t expect—”

  “Help from a Wisdom?” Margareth finished for her. “We aren’t all like Elag, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  Luthiel let out a breath. “Where do we begin then?”

  Margareth looked at her seriously. “I thought we would start with the Faerie Council and coronations.” Her eyes fell on Vanye who nodded to her. “Lords and ladies of the fae are coming from all over the land to see you. As you probably know, many will not approve of you at all. Vyrl aren’t well liked among the Fae. So we’ll need to see to your safety. Zalos is still popular. His friends may attempt a coup.”

  “They still don’t believe me?” Luthiel asked. “Even after last night?”

  “What you did last night helped. But some will never hear or understand you.”

  “Well, I have the Blade Dancers,” Luthiel said with a worried tone. “Then there’s Mithorden, Othalas and the Valkyrie.”

  “Yes, swords and magic will help too. But I was thinking there should be a distraction. Something to keep your enemies guessing and off balance. Something to capture their attention while we lay a trap for them.”

  “What kind of distraction?” Luthiel was surprised at this lady’s cunning talk. All the moreso as she seemed a very good person. Cunning wasn’t something she often noticed in good people. It was an odd contradiction.

  “I was thinking about a ball. Something just after the coronations. To celebrate. We’ll announce it to all. Then we’ll just have to keep tabs on who’s plotting.”

  Luthiel smiled. A ball? It may do very well. Something to get everyone’s mind off of all the trouble. “And how do you plan to find out who’s plotting what?”

  “Yewstaff has his secrets. One of the best kept are the Rumor Rats.”

  “Rumor Rats?” Leowin said with a laugh. But her eyes sparkled with interest. This was just the sort of thing she loved to find out about.

  “Rictinno, are you here?” Margareth asked to no-one in particular.

  Bemused, Luthiel looked around. Beside her a large rat nosed his way out of the leaves. He was spotted green and brown and blended perfectly with Yewstaff bark. About his waist was a black leather belt and at his side—a little needle rapier.

  Rictinno padded silently in front of her, stood on his hind legs, curled his front paws before him and dipped his head. Aside from his color, Luthiel noticed other differences from a usual rat. He was larger and more lanky. About the size of a small cat, his hair was long and coarse, and an odd ridge with small black spines ran from the base of his neck to his dark tail. His eyes were different too—placed side by side in the front of his head and gleaming with an uncanny intelligence. “It is an honor to serve, Queen Luthiel,” he said plainly. His voice was smooth, direct, and soft as a whisper. “I’ve heard a lot about you. My cousins have been chattering since First Summer. You know you’ve become a legend to the forest folk?”

  Intrigued, Luthiel knelt in front of Rictinno. “It is an honor to meet you, little one. I think some of your cousins came to me before. They were very polite. And if it weren’t for the forest folk, it’s likely I wouldn’t be here now.”

  “We love you as we love Elwin,” Rictinno said. “You have her spirit. Animals know these things. Even if some elves do not.” He set a hand to his tiny rapier.

  “Not all elves are so bad,” Margareth said to the rat. “Have you already forgotten who taught you to speak?”

  “Elves, of course,” Rictinno cocked his head and looked Margareth up and down. “They were the good ones. But elfish isn’t the only language. I could talk well with my kind before the Vale and the elves’ lessons.”

  “Vale?” Luthiel said. “You come from the Vale of Mists?”

  “How else do you think my body became as it is?” He motioned to his tail, spots and spines. “Have you ever seen a normal animal use something like this?” He drew his rapier, handling it with as much skill as any elf—then, just as handily, put it back. “My whole family went in the time of Vlad Valkire. We wanted to see what had happened to the Vyrl for ourselves. But we came back to Yewstaff. My family’s been living here since the great passage thousands of years ago. We even remember old Areth.”

  Now Leowin’s brows lowered and she inspected the rat with a look of serious interest. “What did you say? I’ve never heard of Areth.”

  Rictinno looked ready to open his mouth to reply when Margareth interrupted. “There will be plenty of time for questions and answers later. Now we need to get down to business. Rictinno, can you tell Luthiel about your job?”

  Rictinno looked annoyed. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “I’m a spy. But I don’t work for just anyone. You have to be friends of the forest folk. Margareth is the first we’ve had in a while.”

  “You’re a Secret Finder?” Leowin asked. “Could you teach me what you know?”

  “Secret Finding is a part of what we do. The other part is disinformation.”

  “Disinformation?” Luthiel asked. “What’s that?”

  “Spreading false rumors,” Margareth said. “It works well if you want to confound people.”

  “But how?” Luthiel said.

  “Oh, it’s not too difficult,” said Rictinno. “Especially since everyone relies on letters these days. A few strategically placed letters and you could change the course of a kingdom.

  “And that’s just what we plan to do. We’ll steal our enemies’ letters and spy on them to learn what they’re up to. Then we’ll change certain letters. Adding little inaccuracies to confuse them.”

  “You forge letters?” Luthiel asked. “Isn’t that dishonest?”

  “If you’re dealing with liars,” Rictinno said, “the best weapon is lies. Funny thing about liars. They’re terrible at telling truth from fiction. And they never trust a soul. So it’s harder to find out what’s true and what’s not.”

  “Rumor Rats,” Luthiel said musingly, still uncertain if she liked the idea.

  “Delightful!” Leowin said. “When do we start?”

  The Fae Lords’ Council

  The Rumor Rats, lead by Rictinno, spread throughout the great tree readying for the coming fae lords. There was much to prepare. Ear horns needed to be ensorcelled. Paper readied. Rapiers dipped in sleep elixir. Luthiel watched it all with a sort of quiet curiosity. Even Mithorden didn’t know what was happening and she took small comfort in knowing something the sorcerer didn’t. But it was probably the only thing. The sorcerer had inserted himself into every part of the business of rulership. He was always there with papers for her to sign or asking for orders. He did his best to explain when she asked questions. It was so detailed she couldn’t help but be mystified and there was always a nagging worry that she’d missed some key detail or that the sorcerer had overlooked telling her something crucial she’d need to know.

  “Do all leaders have to deal with so much?” she asked him one day.

  “Leadership,” he said, giving her a serious look, “is about responsibility and responsibility is about hard work.”

  But the sorcerer had a knack for leadership and organization. He had a way of measuring people. Of finding out their strengths and weaknesses. Soon, he delegated many tasks to an ever-expanding staff. It made Luthiel think of Lenidras and how it was so well ordered.

  Rictinno checked all newcomers to make sure they were loyal and wouldn’t sabotage Luthiel or try t
o slip poison into her honey wine. So far, Mithorden had managed to keep out the rotten ones. She wondered how he did it.

  “He’s got some kind of second sight,” Leowin said after she’d confided in her. “There was something in the myths about it. He was Valkire’s Chief Advisor after all, and the general of his armies too.”

  It just puzzled Luthiel all the more. She already respected the sorcerer for his knowledge and magical power. But there was something more. Clearly some kind of innate knack for dealing with people, for weighing hearts and minds, for finding good people and for putting them in the proper places. Not only did they work well at their jobs, they also seemed extraordinarily satisfied with them. It was odd, considering the dangers. Despite his activity and many responsibilities, Mithorden seemed to appear just at the moment you needed him and was always ready to provide counsel or consolation.

  “He really is a remarkable general,” Luthiel said. “Little wonder the Vyrl had so much trouble with father. I’m glad he’s our general.”

  Leowin nodded in agreement. “You should do something official for him. Give him some kind of honor or position.”

  Luthiel brightened at the thought. Many of the Council lords were still arriving. It would help set an example. Solidify her as a leader in their minds. “That’s an excellent idea. Can you spread word?”

  “I certainly can.” Leowin said with a smile and then she was off.

  Leowin was another wonder. Mithorden realized her talents for information gathering and communication immediately. So he put her in contact with all captains and told Luthiel to make announcements through Leowin.

  Leowin didn’t mind. It gave her a lot of time with Luthiel. It also presented her a good excuse to go digging for information. Luthiel had to know, after all.

  Thinking about Leowin’s idea gave her another.

  I should officially recognize more than just Mithorden. I should give titles to everyone who’s closest to me. Set my own High Council. The Faelords will each have a place. Vanye can be my Arms Master. Belethial could be my Treasurer—she has a knack for bargaining. Elayethel my High Healer. Mithorden my General and Chief Advisor. Othalas my Master of the Hunt. Margareth my Wisdom. And Leowin my Herald and Secret Finder.