“Are you implying that I am not?” Lachlei demanded, her eyes glittering in anger.
“No,” Rhyn said. “No one here arguing your right or power. But it is unusual to have a queen on the Lochvaur throne.”
“The Haell have a queen,” Lachlei said.
“The Haell are a matriarchy. The only other is the Falarel and they are a secretive kindred,” Laddel said. “They deal with no one, save perhaps the Eltar. I fear that your strength has surprised Laewynd, and he may try other means to control you.”
Cahal nodded. “You did surprise Laewynd with your Chi’lan allegiance.”
“I have always been Chi’lan,” Lachlei stated.
“But not outwardly since you became Fialan’s consort,” Laddel remarked. He smiled at her surprise. “The Laddel know more than you think, Lachlei. We may keep to ourselves, but we are very aware of the happenings within the other kindreds.” He paused. “Laewynd may have mistaken diffidence for weakness—something that I have learned long ago not to do. A sleeping dragon is still a dragon. And a twice first-blood is a very dangerous adversary.”
Lachlei shook her head. “I still can’t believe Laewynd would betray us. Laewynd is many things but he is not a traitor and he is not one to take power—he prefers to lurk in the shadow and deal. And Laewynd was a Chi’lan…”
“Perhaps, but not all those who take the oath to the warrior god serve him,” Rhyn said. “We need those soldiers, even if we can’t get the Lochvaur council’s approval. There’s too much at stake.” “If this is Areyn Sehduk,” she said. “So far, I have the word of the Laddel and naught else.”
Laddel glanced at Telek and Rhyn. “At one time, my word was good enough—what other proof do you need, Lachlei?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know there is a demon—I have seen him in the form of a Silren. But for you to say it is Areyn Sehduk…” She shook her head.
“Demons haven’t been seen in this world for two millennia,” Telek said. “The Truce has kept them in Areyn’s worlds. Now, they appear again. Tell me that Areyn isn’t behind this.”
Lachlei met Telek’s gaze. “I can’t—but I need proof before I try to take control of the entire Lochvaur army. And if this were Areyn Sehduk, we’ll need a lot more than just Lochvaur and Laddel.”
“Then, the question remains—who will stand with us?” Laddel said. “The Haell will fight alongside the Laddel, but it will take time.” “The Redel and Lochel may come to our aid,” Lachlei admitted. “But Laewynd thought the Redel were massing to attack us. The Elesil are our allies, but they traditionally ally themselves with the Silren. If the Elesil enter the war with the Silren, we can’t possibly hold our own without at least the Redel.” She shook her head. “But the Silren have never traditionally served Areyn Sehduk—why the change?”
“Perhaps Areyn thinks he found a weakness against Rhyn’athel he could exploit,” Laddel said, leaning back. “Look how indecisive we are already—we question the logic behind fighting this foe, when there should be no question.”
The room fell silent and Lachlei gazed at each face. “What do you think, Cahal?” she asked.
Cahal shook his head. “I am not an advisor.”
“Speak your mind, Chi’lan.”
“Despite the lack of proof, something tells me to believe them. What we fought was supernatural, and only the warrior god saw us through this.”
Rhyn saw us through this, Lachlei thought. Not Rhyn’athel. She turned and met Rhyn’s gaze. “And your thoughts, Rhyn?”
“You know my thoughts, Lachlei,” he replied.
“Tell me them anyway.” Her gaze fell cold and hard on the North Marches Chi’lan.
“This is Areyn Sehduk,” he said. “The Truce has ended, and the battle for our very survival has begun. If you ignore the problem, it will not go away but will continue to plague us. If not now, then later.” He turned to Telek. “I was a fool for not seeing it sooner.”
The wolf-god smiled, but said naught.
“I too have come to a decision,” Lachlei said. “Instinct, as much as intellect and strength, must play a part in a commander’s decision. I don’t have much to go on, save what I have seen and your counsel. At this time, I must trust my instincts as a Chi’lan warrior.” She paused. “Something evil killed Fialan—a demon or maybe even the demon god, himself. If this isn’t the death god, then perhaps we will err on the side of caution. But if it is Areyn Sehduk, then it is my duty as Rhyn’athel’s champion to fight him. I am with you.”
At that moment, a scream ripped through the encampment. Warriors and gods were to their feet, swords drawn.
“Demon!” Telek said.
43
Fialan’s eyesight returned quickly. He was indeed in the world of the living once more, but time had changed dramatically in this world since he left it. Fialan had only been gone a few days in Tarentor time, but the season here was now approaching winter rapidly.
And yet, it was still Elren, the land of the living. The forest stretched for miles in all directions until it met the base of Lochvaren Mountains, the conifers frocked with glistening snow. The snow-capped peaks gleamed pure white in the contrasting sapphire-blue sky. Sowelu shone overhead, providing warmth where there had been none before. Fialan breathed deeply the cold, clean air and reveled in the feeling. It was as if he were alive again.
Eshe had wept on seeing the world of the living once more. The beauty of Elren had left her speechless, but the travel had drained her as it had many of the other Braesan—the Undead. While she rested, Fialan walked through the army, past the tents and warriors—and the demons that were constant reminders of the dead Chi’lan’s slavery to Areyn.
One hundred thousand Chi’lan warriors had been brought back from the dead. They were Braesan, undead Eleion. Neither alive nor dead, their bodies were pale and their eyes held a reddish cast. The best and the greatest of the warriors to feed Areyn’s war machine. Lochvaur had chosen exclusively Chi’lan, but whether this was by chance or intention, Fialan didn’t know. Fialan found Lochvaur’s tent and strode in, his eyes hardening as he met the godling’s.
“So, you’ve betrayed us,” Fialan said.
Lochvaur looked up. “You of all should not talk, Fialan. You left us.”
“And so I’m dragged here?”
“The demons would’ve come for you, regardless. You’re part of this war, Fialan—I can see your fate in the Wyrd.”
“Spare me your platitudes,” Fialan snarled. “I won’t be party to any of this…”
“I see how you instill loyalty, Lochvaur,” came Areyn’s mocking voice from behind them. “Perhaps I could learn something…”
Fialan wheeled on the demon god. “You…you! If you touch Lachlei, I’ll…”
Areyn smiled sardonically. “You’ll what? Kill me? Rather unlikely, don’t you think, Fialan? After all, if Rhyn’athel or his son can’t kill me, certainly you can’t.”