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“By Falk!” Aliam burst out. “You cannot speak like that to a paladin in my Hall, elf, whoever you are. She was never a common soldier—”

“Peace, my lord. At one time I thought I was, and it satisfied me. Sir elf, my past is past; it may seem strange to you, for whom it is so brief, but to me a year ago is far away. Whatever I was then, I am now a paladin, chosen by my gods for this quest. If you dispute the truth of that, then I must make what proofs I can—but preferably outside. Even as a common soldier I disliked common brawls.”

That got a laugh from the men-at-arms still in the Hall; Paks saw Estil’s mouth twitch, and one of the elves, in the rear of the party, grinned openly. The spokesman frowned, then shook his head. “If you will not yield the sword willingly—”

“I will not.”

“Then I must try to convince you. I thought paladins were sworn to good—”

“I am sworn to the gods who chose me; as you have doubts that any human can discern the High Lord’s will, I have doubts that anyone can know good without guidance.”

He thought about that a moment, staring past her. “But you are a Gird’s paladin?”

“I am a Girdsman, and a paladin, and Gird was part of my choosing. But the High Lord, the Windsteed, and Alyanya were present.”

“Present!” The elf gaped. “You have seen—?”

Paks bowed. For a long moment no one moved or spoke; Paks could hear faint noises from the kitchens, and the hollow sound of hooves on the courtyard paving.

“Well.” The elf looked at his companions for a moment and back at her. “If that is true—or you believe that to be true—then I must inform my Lady.”

“The—?” Aliam began.

“The Lady of the Ladysforest.” He eyed Paks doubtfully. “I find it hard to believe—”

“So did I, at the time,” said Paks. She smiled at him. “So did the Kuakgan of Brewersbridge, who was also there.”

“A Kuakgan! A Gird’s paladin with a Kuakgan?”

“Yes.” Paks nearly burst into laughter at the look on his face. “I never claimed to be a common paladin,” she said slyly. Everyone but the elf laughed then, and he finally smiled.

“I fear,” he said in a different tone, “that you will be hard to convince. So Amrothlin said, and so said Ardhiel, but—no matter. Will you come to the Ladysforest, then? I will swear no harm, and will guide you.”

Paks remembered her first enchantment by elves, when she might have come to the Halveric steading but for their interference, however well-meant. She had heard of men being lost for years in the elvenhomes, spending lifetimes there while seeming to enjoy only a few days of ease and delight. She shook her head. “I fear the turmoil of this realm without a ruler, sir elf. I must not delay.”

“But our Lady must speak to you—”

One of the other elves spoke softly in elven; the spokesman stopped and turned to him. Heads were shaken. Paks took this chance to give her squires a reassuring look; Esceriel was still scowling.

“It’s all right,” she said quietly. “I won’t give up the sword, and I think he’s decided not to fight.”

“He’d better,” said Aliam grimly. “Sheepfarmer’s child, indeed!”

“Well, I am, my lord.”

“But that’s not what matters! It’s—” But the elf had turned back to them, his face now clean of all expression.

“My lord Halveric, I wished to make this easier on you by withholding my name—permit me to explain that I am Serrothlin, cousin of Amrothlin whom your paladin met, and the Lady’s nephew. My companion has made a suggestion, which might serve all our needs.”

“Oh?” Aliam did not sound enthusiastic.

“I deem it necessary for our Lady to speak with you and with this paladin. The lost prince, such as he is, is her grandson. It is on her that his acts will reflect the most strongly. It was with her consent that her daughter married your human king. She must know for herself what you think mitigates his behavior.”

“I see.” Aliam stared full at the elf, unmoving. “And so you propose what?”

“If the paladin Paksenarrion refuses to come to the Ladysforest, it might be possible for the Lady to come here—”

“But I thought she never left the elvenhome!” Estil broke in.

“She does not. But the elvenhome—” He hummed a little tune, that Paks thought she remembered hearing from Ardhiel. “The elvenhome borders are other, as you know. Mortal lands in Lyonya are but clearings, as it were, in the fabric of the elven forests. If you granted your permission, Lord Halveric, she might be persuaded to come—to bring the Ladysforest with her.”

“She could do that?” Aliam stared.

“Indeed, yes.” The elf smiled. “We have not told humans all our powers.” He looked around the hall. “But before you agree, my lord—if you agree—I must warn you. If you grant this permission, and if she comes, then for that space of time your steading will be part of the elvenhome. No human can enter or leave unguided, and none should wander about in it. For the ways of the elvenhome forests are as perilous as any grove of Kuakgan.”

“Hmm.” Aliam looked down, then turned to Paks. “What do you think? I can see that the Lady has a claim to know what’s going on.”

“I agree,” said Paks. “My concern is time: I will not imperil the quest to enjoy the delights of elven enchantments.”

Serrothlin smiled. “Lady, I understand your fears. Indeed this might happen, but not without our will. Would you accept my word that we will not let it happen here?”

“It happened to Ardhiel without his knowledge—can you prevent it?”

“That was different. Have you never been in a trance of prayer? Even an elf can be enchanted by the gods. If you had not thought of the danger, I might indeed have been tempted to leave you ignorant of it, and solve this problem my own way. But although I dislike humans—as you may have surmised—I will not stoop to dishonesty. I will give my word that you will come from meeting our Lady no later than the time of conference demands.”

“Are there many,” asked Paks, suddenly curious, “who regret the alliance?”

“That number is growing,” said Serrothlin, “as it has for some hundred years, as you measure time. It seems clear to some of us that humans have not abided by their word; others excuse them as too short of life to remember. But I remember when elves were most welcome in every hall, when all the forest was open to our hearts, and the heroes you call saints sat at our feet to learn wisdom. Now to be free in our forest we must draw in and in, leaving more of the realm to humans. And lately we have been unwelcome even at court, at the heart of the realm.”

“And what does your Lady say?”

He frowned. “I do not speak for our Lady; no one does. You will hear for yourself.”

“If Lord Halveric permits.” Paks looked at Aliam. “It is up to you, my lord, whether you will risk your steading this way. I believe his words; but it is your land.”

“Not all humans distrust elves, Serrothlin,” said Aliam. “Not all humans deserve your distrust. I will tell my people to stay close. Will you ask the Lady if she pleases to come?”

Serrothlin bowed and withdrew. Two of the elves in his party stayed, coming forward to greet Aliam and Paks.

“My lord—lady—I am Esvinal, a friend of Ardhiel’s,” said one. “It is easier if one of us stays, to form the bridge by which our Lady will shift the borders.”

“Do you also dislike humans?” asked Aliam.

“I like them less than Ardhiel does, and more than I did when we arrived, my lord,” said the elf smoothly. Aliam snorted.

“I’d best tell my people,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me—” and he left, taking his soldiers and Cal with him. Estil sent the others to warn those living in the hall to keep their places. The squires stayed by Paks. The elf met Paks’s eyes.