"I would gladly answer all your questions," said Seth closing his eyes, breathing in the profound air around him before he began again. "Our lands are under siege by an evil that is centuries old. If not defeated, this evil will spread to your lands. It will kill and enslave your kind as well as my own until it dominates the world, for this is its goal. Even as I speak armies gather, the war begins and such a war there hasn't been in generations of your kind."
"Why have you waited until now to return to our lands, only in time of need? Why did you not tell this to those who found you?"
Seth turned to the man, whom he had never seen before, who had blurted out the previous statement. He reached out with his hand and pointed a sinewy finger. "Chancellor," directed Seth. "As a member of the High Council, you know why we left your lands and why we haven't returned. Your kind drove us away… in the Race Wars all was destroyed."
Wide-eyed, the old chancellor sat back, leaning away from Seth's outstretched hand. He did not make further comment. Keeper Martin quickly stepped in again, saying wisely and simply, "Brother Seth, we understand."
"We are in a time where peace is almost at hand after many long years at war with the bandit kings and the near collapse of the Kingdom Alliance," said Andrew, regarding Seth closely. The silver of the elf's skin and the odd color of the eyes called to him.
Deliberately, Seth switched from talking aloud to speaking with his mind. A whisper of his thoughts met each person sitting around the table, touching King Andrew last. Then he spoke aloud with purpose, "I waited for this moment when I could sit before your council and address it as an equal. I wanted to know the thoughts in your minds, your concerns and most importantly your reactions. This is why I have waited. These words were meant for me to impart, not from a sick bed, and not to a … lackey." Lackey, wonder how that would translate? He liked the word, having just borrowed it from one of the council members. He switched then to thought, sending words and emotions, But standing before you. War will come to your door and when it does it will be too late. You must act now! Our kind needs your support, do not wait until it is too late.
Directing his words to Andrew and the others he could see that they were confused. Father Jacob jumped into the conversation. "Do not be alarmed, as I have told you, Seth and Galan are telepathic, they can speak with their minds."
Brother Seth speaks the truth. Please, you must help us, the voice that touched their thoughts was Galan's sweet melody coated with urgency and desperation.
"Brother Seth, when you speak of support, what type of support do you mean?" A very direct question made by Chancellor Yi, who until now had been quietly listening.
Seth regarded the chancellor and answered openly. "Ships, men, supplies; all you can give to us."
The tide of the conversation flowed heavily back and forth, growing heated at times, stopping at other times. Seth carried on the debate with Galan acting as his support, going on long into the afternoon, with the council considering each point and counter-point carefully. As the meeting closed, Andrew bade them to return to the antechamber while the council deliberated.
As the two returned to the antechamber, Adrina asked them how things went without considering that things could go awry. Seth had read the minds of the men in the room as he had spoken with them, still he couldn't tell if they supported him, for the most part they seemed undecided.
Just like these Men, he imparted to Galan, it was almost a curse. They lied, Brother Galan, they lied. The Kingdom is hardly returning to a state of peace… They fear their neighbor's every action. They greeted us with this same fear.
Galan touched her hand to Seth's shoulder to reassure him, whispering into his mind alone, We have done our best, they will listen. Do not worry. It is fated…
Adrina, unable to hear their private thoughts, asked, "Do you want me to send for refreshments?" She was trying—in the only way she knew how—to be helpful.
Princess Adrina, we do not want any refreshments, shot back Seth, his thoughts angry.
He didn't mean that, Adrina. Did you Seth? Galan directed the thoughts now, Seth, how could you? She did not deserve that. She is not the one you are angry with. Are we so far away from our beloved homeland that the Queen Mother's love cannot find and fill our hearts?
Seth was worried. He had perceived the many turnings in the conversation. The decision could go either way and waiting helped nothing, it only further instilled his doubts.
Pretending she had not heard Seth's remark, Adrina tried again to spark up a conversation. Galan tried to join in light conversation at first, but after a time she too became quiet.
The hours drifted by, each falling into the next with slow persistence.
As her unease grew, Adrina had to restrain herself. She wanted to burst through the double doors into the chamber. The antechamber doors had been open before. She had heard most of the discussion. She didn't understand the need to delay or why they were deliberating. And she understood Seth's bitterness. She had been so driven once.
Determined to break the silence, she did so, directing a question to Galan, asking her if she was hungry. Galan admitted she was, as did Seth after Galan prodded him. Adrina found a servant and sent him to the kitchen to bring a light meal.
The servant had just returned with a small feast, when the great doors opened and both Seth and Galan were beckoned to come back to the triangular council table. Even before he sat, Seth read the thoughts of the council members.
He knew the choice of everyone in the room. He could only sit and listen to the resolution as Chancellor Yi spoke it.
"Brother Seth, in a determination such as this there can be no disharmony, thus we held up the council until the decision was entirely unanimous," he paused then for effect and Seth knew this. "We understand the hardship of your journey and regret the decision, but it is our decision that we can not support you in your endeavor. The meeting is concluded."
Chapter Forty Four
Two days came and went with Vilmos spending the majority of his time on opposite sides of a playing board from Edward. Although the break was enjoyable, Vilmos was growing increasingly anxious for Xith's return as the third day ended.
The inn was an unusually empty place with Edward and Vilmos being the sole occupants. In the three days not a single visitor or traveler had arrived. Vilmos would often glance out the window when he heard a noise, hoping it was Xith. Usually it was just the wind rattling the shutters. Edward had noticed this and often told Vilmos not to worry, and that his friend would find him soon enough. Vilmos fretted nonetheless.
Vilmos and Edward were in the midst of yet another game of King's Mate. So far, Vilmos had lost three of his fools and his keeper. Edward had not lost a single piece. Vilmos did, however, have his king in the center raised square, which meant for a time he controlled the board.
Cleverly, Vilmos swung his second swordmaster onto an adjacent raised square; now it could not be taken. Edward thought long and hard for his next move and only after careful calculation did he move his priestess diagonally forward to endanger Vilmos' first swordmaster. Vilmos rotated the piece around to take one of Edward's fools, which left Vilmos in a sweet position to take either one of Edward's keepers or swordmasters the next turn. As Edward could not counter the move, he sought to gain by the loss. He moved his swordmaster into a vicarious position, hoping Vilmos would claim the keeper.
Vilmos studied the board prudently. The keeper was an easy piece to take, but the bold move was to take nothing and move his priest adjacent to Edward's king and swordmaster. Vilmos could not take the king while the swordmasters remained; he would wait until Edward tried to claim it. The piece was backed up by his own keeper, which in turn was further supported by the swordmaster, which could swing one space farther to the left if necessary. The latter play was tight and tricky but Vilmos attempted it.
Edward smiled at the move, which he considered amateurish, quickly devouring the boy's swordmaster with his priestess. A broad smirk was ev
ident on his face, until in a series of quick and calculated maneuvers, Vilmos stripped four of Edward's pieces, the first priestess with which Edward had taken his swordmaster, the swordmaster which had been backed by the priestess, the keeper Edward could do nothing to protect, and lastly Edward's only remaining swordmaster. Now Edward's king was without protection.
Edward could do nothing to prevent Vilmos from taking the pieces, only sit back and watch with amazement. Wide eyes and a dropped mouth replaced the smile on his face. Edward couldn't maneuver his king out of the trap Vilmos had set; in another move it was check, and in one more, the game was over.
"Wow!" exclaimed Edward, "Where were you hiding those moves?"
Vilmos held the black king in his hand. The ebony from which it was carved was cold and though the piece itself was smooth, Vilmos felt as if the carved edges could slice into his fingers. "I just did as you said. I sacrificed the priest to gain the king."
"Vilmos," stated Edward, his face drawn and straight, "do you know in all the years I have been playing, that I have never been defeated. I have never lost until just now."
"You are the one who taught me, my friend," spoke Vilmos sounding wiser than his years. He held out the black king to Edward.
Edward took the king and started setting the rest of his pieces in their starting positions. "One more game and then we'll call it a night. Okay?"
Vilmos nodded agreement without hesitation and began setting his pieces in place.
Edward led with the first move. The game progressed from there with painstaking sluggishness.
Edward meticulously poured over every option with each movement of a piece, thinking several plays ahead. There was visible strain in the air around the quiet table as the hours passed.
Vilmos stretched out his arms and shifted frequently in his chair. His backside was getting very sore and numb from the long duration they had been sitting around the table. His weariness began to distract his attention away from the game, but he would not yield.
In the first hours of the game, not a piece had been taken or exchanged; the field was maintaining a careful balance of offensive and defensive postures. With movements in a seesaw motion back and forth, up and down the board, each probed the other's intentions.
Outside the windows of the inn, the gentle light of morning was forming on the horizon, though neither noticed. Nor did they take note of it when the darkness of night became void to the bright sunshine of a new day. The game continued, unabated.
Edward wiped a dew-like perspiration from his brow without taking his eyes from the board or moving his other hand, which rested on his king. Vilmos had forced him into a retreat. He cursed under his breath as he pulled his king from the center square.
Waiting for Vilmos to make his next move, Edward closely watched the board, estimating which pieces Vilmos would move where and how he could counter. When Vilmos made the move Edward had surmised he would, another offensive push toward center, Edward was ready for the counter, but before yielding he checked the alternatives.
A smile formed on Vilmos' lips when he saw the move. Suddenly weariness and fatigue were replaced by a sense of elation, which he hoped was not false hope. Vilmos set in with a precise attack that he had been saving to throw at Edward.
The intensity of the game heated up as Vilmos claimed his stake on Edward's pieces. Vilmos pulled piece after precious piece from the board with Edward claiming one occasionally. Clearly on the run, Edward pulled his pieces back to defensive positions to prevent the capture of his king.
The wind outside picked up, though neither noticed; their attention was lost to the board, each carefully deducing the next move, the next counter. Vilmos was ready to make a claim for victory; soon he would push Edward into a corner he could not escape from. He grinned again and then purposefully stalled as he sipped from a near empty glass.
Slowly, he brought his hand to the board, perhaps toying with the expectant expression on Edward's face. He would move the white priestess diagonally up the board to put the black king in check once more. Vilmos eyed the dark king outfitted in a long ruffled cloak, holding a scepter in its left hand and the odd singlet crown upon its head, as he slowly brought the priestess across the board. He was lifting his fingers from the board and Edward was contemplating his next move when the wind outside surged and in a sudden sweeping crash, the windows of the inn were dashed to pieces.
Tattered shards still clattered to the floor as a voice rang out, a savage, eerie voice that slurred the words together into a fervent snarl. "Remain seated, or you'll both die!"
With a troubled expression on his face, Edward looked up from the board, perhaps angry at the disturbance. "Can you not see, we are in the middle of a game?" shouted Edward.
Three hair-covered beasts stood inside the inn, one at the door, the speaker, with a henchman to either side of him. Edward glared at the speaker, which he assumed was the leader. Each was heavily armored in the typical banded mail of their kind, with weapons at the ready.
Edward knew their kind well. He had seen them many times before, though he had never been a victim of their assault. They were the paid hunters of Under-Earth; the half-animal, half-human race disgusted him. He watched the leader for an instant, watching it closely, saliva dripped from its two upturned canine fangs as it licked its hair-covered face.
"What is it you seek?" asked Edward diplomatically as he stood, trying both to gain time to think and to place the oddly familiar voice.
"We wish no harm. We seek out the boy. Give him to us," hissed the beast through its hound-like mouth, saliva, dripping with each word, slapped the floor with a splash in a small pool readily forming at the beast's feet.
Edward hesitated a moment, carefully edging toward the group as he spoke, placing himself between them and Vilmos. "As I stated, you are disturbing our game. I have nothing against the Hunter Clan, nor does my companion." He stalled for more time.
Vilmos' thoughts spun, the Hunter Clan.
"Just do as ordered!" shouted the beast leader as he pointed his double-edged blade towards Edward.
"Can we not discuss this? I am sure we can come to an agreeable solution," said Edward, as he gripped the chair beside him tightly with his right hand, eyeing closely the two crossbows directed toward him. "Surely, you can lower your weapons. A mere boy and a fat troant can't hurt you…"
"Enough words, you die!" screamed the beast. "Kill!" he told his accomplices.
Edward belted the closest beast to him with the chair, knocking it to the ground; its arrow triggered, flew harmlessly into the ceiling. The other beast shot Edward cleanly in the leg with its crossbow bolt.
"Run, Vilmos run!" Edward shouted as he toppled the table over on its side.
Reacting to Edward's advice, Vilmos started toward the stairs. Luckily he shifted his gait slightly to the right and a quiver whizzed harmlessly by his head. Safely to the stairs, Vilmos stopped and peered over the rail at Edward. Only then did he consider the repercussions of his actions. How could he just leave Edward standing there? He had to do something to help, but what?
"Freeze!" shouted the beast, "Do not move further!"
"Run, Vilmos! Don't look back, go find the shaman!" shouted Edward.
Vilmos heard the desperation in Edward's voice; still he did not want to go, but he was scared, so he ran.
Edward launched toward the attackers. He had only taken one step forward toward the door when a bolt pierced his chest. The pain was immediate and excruciating, but Edward only winced slightly. He had been in worse places before and survived. He had given the shaman his sacred word he would watch over and protect Vilmos until he returned. Determination carried him another step.
"Up!" shouted the beast leader, as he dispensed his sword at the henchman sprawled out on the floor. The beast immediately scrambled to its feet and picked up its weapon. The second beast licked its furry mouth and reloaded its crossbow with another bolt. "You're finished. Quit while ahead and life in your veins," snarled
the leader.
The pain was great, but it did not stop Edward. He shook a defiant fist at the attackers and took another step. His wounded leg was slow to respond to his wishes, as the first volley had cleanly pierced his leg at the knee, so rather than a step, it was an awkward limp.
He reached out and snapped a leg off one of the chairs that were littered around the inside of the inn. He bore it disobediently before him as a club and moved closer.
Two more quivers pierced Edward's body as he took another step. He slumped harshly and suddenly to the floor, his eyes wandered to the stairs that Vilmos had just topped. As he watched the boy disappear down the hall, life drained from his limbs. Then Edward died.
Chapter Forty Five
Seth had quietly listened to the words he knew the chancellor must speak, allowing his anger to burn until he could no longer control it. He hurled a wave of his will through the minds of the assembly that forced tears to their eyes. His anger was non-selective, so even Adrina, seated in the antechamber, felt its wrath upon her. Somehow she didn't succumb to its pressure, she understood it.
Seth, win through diplomacy, cried out Galan to Seth's mind alone, use your knowledge. Hope is not lost.
Gradually, Seth relinquished the power of his will, immediately searching for the ones he knew could comprehend what was at hand. His search settled first on Keeper Martin and he directed harsh words into the keeper's mind, playing upon the keeper's knowledge of Lore and the wisdom found within. Afterward Seth made an instinctive attack on Father Jacob. He knew Jacob understood the ways of the Mother and the Father.
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