Created at the far end of a garden courtyard, opposite Gregory’s tower, the design of the building was official, governmental if you will, and had been the meeting place for the White Paladin Council for more than 7,000 seasons.
Lord Dowd took his position as the rightful head of the council with Gregory at his side. He shut the gate to a waist-high enclosure and motioned for Gregory to ascend a short staircase that led to their thrones. Surrounding their seats was a stage that allowed a significant amount of freedom to maneuver while they addressed the council.
The council took their seats. Numbering 120, each man had served and had retired as an officer in the white army. They were dressed in black and silver. Their shirts bore the symbol of the army across their chests, the Turtle Elf of Healing. These men were responsible for making the decision of how the Kingdom of Lavan would handle the threat of war, and on this Peak, the council had gathered to address Lord Dowd’s request to declare war.
Mosley, Alistar, and Hosseff had taken positions behind the council, and they were looking down at Lord Dowd and the White Chancellor. The deities were unable to be seen by those present.
Now, fellow soul ... Gregory Id found himself in a unique situation. Not only did he need to perform his duties as the Chancellor of White Magic, but he also had to assume the duties of the dead king, Heltgone Lavan, until the Head Master met with the republic leaders of Lavan to appoint another sovereign.
Because of his weight, the King of Lavan had been impotent. Heltgone had no sons or daughters, and his wife passed only a few seasons prior. His only living relative was a sister, but she was deaf and dumb, and her many personalities were incapable of running a kingdom.
Brayson would be required to determine who the five most powerful families were within the Kingdom of Lavan, and with the republic’s help, he would choose the family that best fit the role of the royal family. The head of this family would then be named king.
Fellow soul ... in case you don’t understand the hierarchies of the Kingdom of Lavan and the Kingdom of Hyperia, let me explain. Both were similar, each having a king to represent the halflings. These kings were not powerful men, despite being treated as such. They acted as figureheads for the halflings living throughout the Lands of Kerkinn. Since the halflings’ magic was inferior to the magic of the elves, the Head Masters throughout the ages required that two councils be appointed to govern the masses. They did this in an effort to keep halflings from being enslaved by elves who commanded more advanced magic, no matter where they lived. The kings’ voices were the only voices the halflings were given when their respective councils convened.
The most powerful position within each council was held by the man who led their respective army, yet this position was not the position the beings on all of Luvelles considered the most esteemed. Gregory and Marcus’ positions were the most prestigious throughout the world of Luvelles, second only to Brayson’s position as Head Master.
To maintain the balance of power, the Head Masters throughout the seasons required the chancellors of magic and the leaders of the armies to abide by their respective council’s rulings. Just as the leaders of the white army before him, Lord Dowd had conformed to the laws of the land.
Lord Dowd stood from his throne and looked beyond the stage toward the bleachers that ascended in front of him. “Councilmen, thank you for coming. I’ve summoned you here to answer my call for war. Over the past few Peaks, there have been two attacks on my life. During one of these attempts, the King of Lavan perished, as you all know. The weapon responsible for his end was a crossbow crafted by the Order.”
The members of the council murmured.
Dowd continued. “I wish to gather our forces and call the dark army to the Battlegrounds of Olis.”
An older elf, one who once held Dowd’s position, stood from his chair. His belly was now rounded from his lack of training and the five pints of ale he consumed each night. His nose looked like cauliflower, with a strawberry hue, and he had allowed his graying beard to lengthen. But when he spoke, all on the council listened.
Dowd recognized Heflon’s presence and willingly surrendered the floor.
Heflon nodded and cleared his throat. “Lord Dowd, I understand the death of a king is tragic, but to call for war would kill thousands of elves. Is war necessary over the loss of one mere halfling? Is there no other way to settle this dispute between the armies without confrontation? Have you tried to contact Boyafed? Have you further tried to find out what he knows of the attack that claimed the king’s life?”
Dowd took a deep breath. He did not like the passive sound of Heflon’s questions. The white army leader respected Heflon by bowing his head to satisfy the politics of the situation, and then rebutted, “Councilor, I was scheduled to meet with Boyafed only 5 Peaks ago. It was at this moment when the first attempt on my life was made. Instead of ending me, my spirit-bull of 100 seasons perished from a bolt to his right eye. It, too, was from an Order crossbow.”
Heflon nodded his understanding. “I was told the bolt responsible for ending the halfling pierced Heltgone’s right eye as well. Is this correct?”
“It is. Each bolt missed my person and killed an unsuspecting target.”
Heflon folded his hands and placed them on top of his belly. “Lord Dowd, don’t you find it odd that a man trained by the Order would fail to hit a stationary target on two occasions, yet he was able to hit the eye of the beings standing nearest you? The dark army doesn’t make mistakes of this magnitude. These were intentional misses, and the bolts killed their intended targets, wouldn’t you agree?”
Dowd’s face tightened. “Esteemed Councilman ... we could argue all Peak, but the truth of the matter is, the Order is toying with us. Whether the king’s end was an official act of the Order or not, his murder was a betrayal of our way of life and a call for war ... no matter how you try to explain it. This was the Order’s way of spitting in our faces, and their insult demands reaction.” Lord Dowd focused his gaze on Heflon. “If the King of Lavan was your brother, councilman, I doubt that you would feel the need to object.”
Heflon looked around the room and studied the faces of the others before he responded. “If the king was my brother, I’d be no better than any other halfling.”
The chamber filled with laughter, but Gregory and Dowd were not amused. Once the hall settled, Heflon continued. “War will kill many. We don’t have proof the Order is responsible. For all we know, the man who attacked could have nothing to do with the Order at all and simply got his hands on one of their weapons. I don’t believe an elf trained by Boyafed would miss. I believe this is the trickery of a misguided marksman.”
Most in the room seemed to agree with Heflon, but there were some who agreed with Dowd. The room turned angry as the men shouted their arguments at one another.
The gods shook their heads as they watched the proceedings grow out of hand.
Alistar addressed Mosley. “The moments have come for you to do your duty. It appears as if Heflon will talk the council out of an aggressive course of action. They’ll look for a diplomatic resolution.”
Alistar knelt and scratched the top of Mosley’s head. “Heflon has a point. This doesn’t seem like the work of the Order. The council is sure to agree with his logic, and few will argue against him. You must make them feel the proper course of action is war.”
Mosley lowered his head. “I’ve been dreading the Peak this moment would come.”
Hosseff cleared his throat. Mosley looked up and stared into the nothingness beneath the shade’s hood as Hosseff’s wispy words found their way to the wolf’s ears. “Mosley, war is necessary to control the populations of the worlds. You know this. The souls waiting within the Book must be given their chance to live. And some must be given the chance to live again. It isn’t evil to do what’s necessary.”
Mosley snorted. “I understand.”
The wolf turned to make his descent down the bleachers. To do so, he had to pass through the memb
ers of the council in order to reach Heflon. As he did, the wolf’s body penetrated those who were in his way. The men who experienced the chill of the god’s presence, looked at one another for an explanation as they rubbed themselves for warmth.
Once he was standing next to Heflon, the invisible God of War lifted onto his hind legs and whispered, planting a seed into Heflon’s mind, “War is necessary. The Order has played a trick on this council, and Boyafed wants you to believe that the attacks are the work of a misguided marksman. Heflon, you are far too clever for that. You cannot allow this deception to fall cloud the minds of this council.
“Lord Dowd is right. His call for war is necessary. Only you can make these men see that war is the proper course of action. You must rid Western Luvelles of the darkness that plagues it.”
Once finished, Mosley reascended the bleachers. Again, the men warmed themselves as he passed through their bodies and then stopped next to Alistar. “Let’s see how my manipulation worked, shall we?”
Alistar nodded. “I never tire of seeing how the people react when we pass through them. I’m sure they’ll feel feverish tomorrow. That was a fine bit of suggesting, Mosley. Well done.”
“How could you be so blind, Heflon?” Dowd shouted over the council as the men continued to argue their points of view.
After a moment, Heflon raised his hand, and the room quickly quieted. “My fellow councilmen, there may be another side to consider. Let us assume the Order wanted to kill Heltgone. Let us also assume the Order wanted us to think a marksman was responsible for the attacks. Perhaps they even wanted us to believe they were not responsible because their assassin missed Lord Dowd. It would be a fine deception if this council was to believe another man stole the Order’s property and wore its colors to end the halflings’ king. The Order would get away with murder without fear of retaliation. To attack the king, though a mere halfling, is to attack every member of this council. Despite Heflon’s polluted blood, he was appointed as one of us. The moment for war ... is now!”
The room erupted with calls for war. Lord Dowd seized the moment and lifted his blessed blade of the white army above his head. He shouted with all his might. “I call for war! What say you, councilmen?”
The decision was unanimous.
Mosley turned away from the frenzied cries. The wolf looked at Hosseff. “It appears the Collective will have its war. It won’t be long before you’ll be collecting souls and returning them to the Book’s pages.”
The shade pulled back his hood. A smoky image of his face appeared. “You have done your duty well, Mosley. But there are other matters on Harvestom that require your attention. Perhaps you should see to it that war encompasses the centaurs’ forests as well.”
Mosley looked at Alistar. “Shall we go?”
Alistar put his hand on the wolf’s head. “Mosley, I understand how this makes you feel, but I assure you, you’re doing what is necessary to ensure a continuous cycle of life. I’ll stay with you until your duty is complete.”
“Thank you. It’ll take many moments for me to adjust. I’m not sure how to deal with the sick feeling I have in the pit of my stomach.”
Hosseff laughed. He lifted his hood and the emptiness beneath it returned.
Alistar and Mosley just stared at the God of Death as the shade spoke. “Mosley, you will learn to deal with your emotions as the seasons pass. I like you. I hate knowing your heart hurts.” The shade vanished.
Alistar looked at Mosley. “I think the shade likes you ... and he doesn’t like anyone.”
The wolf shrugged. “I don’t know why.”
“Hmmmm. Perhaps he likes dogs.”
Mosley growled, “I’m not a dog. I am wolf.”
The God of the Harvest grinned and rummaged his hands through the fur on Mosley’s back. “I meant no disrespect. Let’s change the subject, shall we?”
“Yes. I’d prefer another topic.”
Alistar put his right hand to his chin. “I don’t think it’s going to be necessary to visit Boyafed. I’m sure the dark council will call for war considering recent events.”
Mosley sat on his haunches and scratched the back of his neck. “What events are you referring to?”
Alistar rolled up the right sleeve of his robe as he responded. “Hosseff told me Boyafed’s Argont Commander was murdered. Boyafed thinks Dayden was killed by the white army.”
Mosley shook his head. “None of this makes sense. How could the leaders of both packs be manipulated in this fashion?”
“I’m unsure, but that’s what has transpired. I believe Hosseff knows more than he’s willing to reveal. The Order will accept Dowd’s challenge to meet on the Battlegrounds of Olis. This will be a war worth watching.”
Mosley witnessed the last councilman teleported away from the hall, and then he responded. “I must find a way to understand how Hosseff thinks.”
Alistar chuckled. “That could take many, many seasons. I doubt I’ll ever adapt to the eerie feeling I get when I look into the darkness beneath his hood. It’s unnerving, don’t you think?”
After mutually agreeing, the gods departed for Harvestom.
Shalee has worked her way back to the camp Kiayasis abandoned outside Grogger’s Swamp. She took the Knife of Spirits from the dark paladin, and she now carries it high on her right thigh beneath her dress.
Sam’s disappointment and the pain on his face have been haunting her thoughts. She plans to find the missing piece of the Crystal Moon and then hurry back to Grayham to beg for his forgiveness.
Kepler and Payne are waiting outside the Source’s Temple. George opened the temple doors with the key they retrieved from Brayson’s shrine. The key vanished after opening the lock. Once inside, George stood on the teleportation platform located at the center of the temple.
Kepler and Payne tried to walk through the entryway of the temple, but George was the only one who could pass. With nothing else to do, Payne teleported with the demon-cat back to Kepler’s lair.
Mary, Athena, Susanne and Garrin woke early. They have eaten a hearty breakfast and have gathered in Mary’s kitchen to read from the Scroll of Teleportation.
Though the Head Master stayed the night, he avoided talking about George. Brayson did, however, help the girls devise a plan. The ladies are going to visit Nept, a city that is surrounded by vineyards. After breakfast, Brayson kissed Mary goodbye and departed for other business.
Athena is now only 36 Peaks away from giving birth.
Boyafed and Lord Dowd are speaking via their mirrors. Dowd has delivered the Kingdom of Lavan’s call for war, and as expected, Boyafed accepted. Their conversation was short. The dark and white armies will meet on the Battlegrounds of Olis. The war will begin in 50 Peaks of Bailem.
Gregory Id has been asked by Lord Dowd to go to Lavan. The chancellor is to issue the call for Lavan’s army to meet with the white army north of Lake Tepp in 20 Peaks. From there, they will begin a 28 Peak march to the Battlegrounds of Olis. The armies will then rest and prepare for battle over the next 2 Peaks.
Dowd has asked Gregory Id to travel to three other destinations in search of support for the war. First, Gregory must go to the shore of Crystal Lake. He is to call on the Ultorian King for any assistance that he may be willing to offer.
Second, Gregory must go to the enchanted woods of Wraithwood Hollow. He will ask the Wraith Hound Prince, Wisslewine, to call his pack of canine warriors out of the Under Eye and bring them to the battlegrounds.
Third, Gregory must visit the Spirit Plains. The White Chancellor needs to find the king of a race of spirits called the Lost Ones. Gregory must think of a way to capture Shesolaywen so Lord Dowd can use the king’s Call of Canair.
Mieonus enjoyed watching Sam save Shalee’s life. The event was witnessed through her waterfall. The goddess enjoyed the pain on Sam’s face as he confronted Shalee about her unfaithfulness. She also enjoyed Kiayasis’ demise. The dark paladin’s end has given the Goddess of Hate an idea.
Mos
ley and Alistar are on Harvestom. The famine created by the God of the Harvest is spreading across the Kingdom of Kless and desperate moments are beginning to turn the centaurs against one another. There have been four cases of cannibalism reported amongst the browncoats. Neighbors are afraid to open their stable doors and live in fear for their lives.
The King of Kless is convinced, now more than ever, that the King of Tagdrendlia ordered his kingdom’s Seeds of Plenty to be stolen. Without the seeds to produce crops for his lands, Lasolias’ browncoat race will eventually starve. Lasolias also believes his centaurs are no longer strong enough to fight the blackcoats. He fears his bag filled with the Seeds of Plenty may be lost forever.
On the other side of Southern Harvestom, in the Kingdom of Tagdrendlia, Boseth has collected a bountiful harvest, and his blackcoat army is healthy and strong. Boseth believes his race can withstand an advance by Lasolias. Boseth has tried on three occasions to tell Lasolias he does not have his bag filled with the Seeds of Plenty, but Lasolias won’t listen.
The browncoat and blackcoat kingdoms have enough abhorrence over one another’s appearance without the missing Seeds of Plenty being an issue. This racism has existed between the centaurs since the creation of the new worlds.
Brayson has arrived inside his floating office, and he is waiting to meet with the King of Southern Grayham. Sam is expected to arrive shortly.
Gage and the other goswigs are free of Strongbear’s constant barking of orders. Once they voted to pool their magic and bring winter to their underground village, the large brown bear retired to his cave, and he is now hibernating.
The Eye of Luvelles Page 38
