Amlaruil smiled. "The ring's magic suits you well. You have a natural talent, Rennyn, for being other than what you appear. I have seen you charm an elf maid with a smile, convince a soldier with a few bluff words that you are his comrade and friend. And yet-forgive me-you are never touched in turn. You hold yourself apart from those you easily befriend, and give only and precisely what you chose to give. And in truth, the elf maid and the soldier would not know you from each other's description."
Amlaruil leaned forward, her face earnest. "I have in mind for you a role in which you can truly excel. While it might not sound as grand as a councilor or a war wizard, it is every bit as important to Evermeet. I want you to be the eyes and ears of the Towers. You will travel, both on Evermeet and to distant lands, and send me word of such things as we here should know."
"You would have me be a spy?" he said, more in astonishment than disapproval.
"A hidden diplomat," she agreed. "You have fine judgment and excellent discretion, and if ever these talents should fall short of the task at hand, your fighting skills are impressive and should more than fill that gap. Your first task is an important one, something I would not entrust to an elf of lesser talents."
Amlaruil stood and shrugged off her mantle. The silken folds of her gown clung to her rounded belly. "As you can see, I am again with child," she said serenely, her hands framing her belly as if cradling the life within. "Before the winter is past, I will bear twin sons to King Zaor. They will be raised in secret fosterage with my distant kin, and trained among the warriors of Craulnober Keep. You will accompany them as their guardian and bodyguard, and see that they are delivered safely. None must know of their identity, or yours." Amlaruil smiled at the astonished elf. "Would I give you a task so near my heart, if there was another better suited?"
With effort, Rennyn stopped gaping. "And the king?"
"Zaor knows of my choice, and approves it," Amlaruil told him. "When you have done this, you may sail for the mainland. The ring you wear is also an elfrune, a device of my creation. I have enspelled it so that you might speak to me at will. It will also transport you magically, instantly, back to Evermeet in times of grave danger. I will show you how to use these powers. But first," she suggested, "show me the guise you will use when you go to Craulnober Keep."
Rennyn turned back to the mirror. A faint, sardonic smile lifted his lips as he confronted his changed image. He was now a Moon elf warrior, white-skinned and silver-haired. His frame was heavier, almost human in appearance, and his arms and shoulders gave promise of daunting strength.
"Forgive me, lady," he murmured, "but I doubt my parents would approve this transformation."
Amlaruil came to stand beside him, her hand on his shoulder. "Trust me with your family, as I entrust you with mine," she told him firmly. "I will tell the Aelorothi whatever they need to know to help them understand how important their son is to Evermeet. Your kindred are honorable; they will keep their council and only say with pride that Rennyn travels on missions for the king."
The elf turned and bowed low to Amlaruil. "Thank you for allowing my family to save face."
"Do you still think that is my intent?" she demanded. "You are a remarkable elf, Rennyn, with unusual talents. And though you serve King Zaor, you will also be my personal representative and the guardian of my sons. I do not assign this task lightly."
"The queen's knight," Rennyn murmured thoughtfully, pride kindling in his eyes.
Amlaruil lifted one brow. "I do not think that Queen Lydi'aleera would thank you for that description," she said dryly.
"Lydi'aleera is a vapid fool," Rennyn responded without rancor. He shrugged. "Forgive me, but it seems to me that you, not Lydi'aleera Amarillis, are Evermeet's rightful queen. And I say this not just for the heirs you have given Zaor."
Before Amlaruil could respond to this pronouncement, Rennyn drew his sword and lay it at her feet. "I will serve you and your children, in secrecy and in honor, the hidden knight of a hidden queen," he said, and knelt before her.
Perhaps because the young elf looked up at her with such shining expectancy, perhaps because he needed so desperately to believe in his worth and hers, Amlaruil took up the sword and with reverent solemnity declared Rennyn Aelorothi a knight of Evermeet. And when he left, she found that she did not regret the action.
Amlaruil slipped back on the concealing mantle of High Mage. But before returning to her duties, she paused to gaze thoughtfully at the reflection in her mirror.
It seemed to her that the faint shadow of a crown lingered upon her forehead. And she wondered if, perhaps, the magic of Rennyn's ring allowed him to see through illusions as well as create them. The young elf had seen a truth that she herself was just coming to accept: Though she ruled only in the Towers of the Sun and Moon, in heart and spirit she was Evermeet's true queen. The gods knew it: for had not she as a girl touched Zaor's moonblade, the king sword, as if it were her own?
What did it matter that the elves did not recognize or acknowledge her? She would still serve-a hidden queen, Rennyn had called her, but a queen nonetheless.
Well content, Amlaruil left her chambers to take up once again the rule of the Towers.
20
Windows on the World
Amlaruil tried to look sternly upon the identical scamps standing before her, their tousled blue heads hanging sheepishly low and bare toes scuffing at the polished marble floor.
It was difficult, though, to summon anything resembling maternal wrath over the boys' latest misdeed. Indeed, it was all she could do to keep from sweeping both of them up into her arms and forgiving them outright for this, any past and all future offenses.
Xharlion and Zhoron, her twin sons, were small replicas of their warrior father. Sturdy and stubborn, they had inherited Zaor's sharp features-right down to the dent in the center of their chins-and their father's distinctive sapphire-colored curls. Amlaruil could not help but smile wistfully whenever she looked upon them, a blessing which came to her all too seldom.
"You boys are under the fosterage of Lord and Lady Craulnober," she reminded them with mock severity. "You are to obey them as you would me, and study with diligence all the things they would have you learn."
"But dancing?" Xharlion exclaimed, spitting out the word with exquisite disdain. "What need have warriors of Evermeet for that?"
"It is the custom of the Craulnobers to teach all the young elves in their care the ways of court life as well as the skills of the battlefield," Amlaruil reminded him. "It is, I might add, a custom with which I wholeheartedly agree. Life does not present us with a single task, and an elven noble must be able to comport himself well in many circumstances. And what have you against dancing, anyway? It is as important to an elf, and as natural, as magic!"
"Well, the two things aren't so bad, when you put 'em together," Zhoron observed, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. The twins exchanged a sly look. Their shoulders shook as they snickered at their shared memory of the morning's events.
Amlaruil struggled to keep from joining in. The image of the primly sedate Chichlandra Craulnober shrieking and clutching at her fly-away skirts was almost Amlaruil's undoing.
"You should not have enspelled Lady Chichlandra to dance upon the ceiling rather than the floor," she admonished them.