Elayeen smiled sadly. “It is not so grand as you might believe from history books, Allazar. It has not been used as such for a very long time, though it is maintained after a fashion for the sake of tradition.”
“What’s so special about it?” Gawain asked, “I haven’t much idea of lowland history at all, much less that of Elvendere.”
The wizard was quick to reply, before even Elayeen could frame an answer. “It is one of two regions in Elvendere with stone-built buildings, Longsword. The other being Ostinath, wherein lies Toorseneth, the Great Round Tower, if I am correct, my lady?”
“Alas, the Toorseneth has lost much of its greatness in the many centuries since its construction. I had forgotten how isolated my homeland has been of late, Allazar, if the D’ith Hallencloister still teaches of the grandeur of Shiyanath and Ostinath. The old winter palace is still serviceable and will provide for crowns and ambassadors. It also has stables and accommodation for a company of Thalangard. I would imagine additional accommodation would be easy enough to find for the honour-guards of all kingdoms attending Council. But grand it is not, its former splendour long faded, the walls grey, and slowly crumbling.”
“Still,” Gawain nodded, “It sounds much more comfortable than Ferdan, and a great deal better protected too.”
“Indeed,” Allazar agreed. “Can it really be true the entire Council is now there? In Shiyanath?”
“Yes,” Elayeen confirmed, “The guard commander at Jarn was quite certain. He even made a remark to the effect that all at Callodon Castle were perplexed, since they could now only receive word from Brock by pigeon, and had no way of replying except by horse, since they possessed no birds which know the way to Shiyanath. And Brock himself has expended all his birds but one, it seems, the last kept back in case of emergency.”
“Which also explains the subsequent lack of news from the Council,” Gawain grumbled, “It’ll take time for messages to be sent to and from castletowns from Shiyanath, assuming no wizardly means are employed, and after Ferdan, I doubt anyone will be in too much of a hurry to entrust confidences to their whitebeards.”
“And,” Elayeen added, her voice rich with concern, “There were many wizards in my homeland. I marvel Rak was able to persuade Council to move there at all, much less that my father and the other crowns would agree.”
“And there was no other news, of wizards or of your homeland?” Gawain asked gently.
Elayeen shook her head. “Beyond the fact of the Council moving to Shiyanath, only rumours and speculation. It was rumoured that the Callodon Westguard had engaged a band of Gorian troops who had made an incursion across the border from the Old Kingdom. And rumoured also that Gorians dressed in Callodonian garb were crossing into the region from there, for what purpose no-one knows, but everyone had an opinion. There was also a rumour that people in the Old Kingdom were finding their old strength, and there was talk of an uprising against the Imperial forces there. But the commander assured me it was only speculation at best and gossip at worst, and there were no facts from the Castle to support any of it.”
“Then we have learned very little of real import,” Gawain sighed, “And for this you endured all the hardships of hot food, hot baths, duck-down beds…” And for that remark Gawain received a slender elbow in the ribs.
“You overlook something, Longsword. And you too, I think, my lady.” Allazar said softly, smiling like the cat that got the cream.
“Which is?”
“There is perhaps a great deal more than simply the safety of crowns behind Rak’s success in moving the Council to Shiyanath, and a great deal more than powerful politics in Thal-Hak’s allowing it.”
Puzzled, Elayeen glanced at Gawain to see if he understood the wizard’s meaning.
“Out with it then, Allazar, or The Keeper of The Stick will shortly become The Wearer of The Stick.”
Allazar smiled broadly. “Is it too simple to see? Perhaps that is the beauty of such powerful manoeuvres. Sometimes, people are so busy searching for hidden agendas and traps and wheels within wheels, they fail to see the obvious one. The Council of Crowns is now at Shiyanath, in Elvendere, and who do I see sitting before me upon this pedestal, but the two Crowns of Raheen, both of whom are of course entitled to sit upon that Council, and have been ever since the entire Council ratified their recognition of Raheen and those crowns at Ferdan.”
There was a brief silence while Elayeen and Gawain simply stared at the wizard, and then Gawain felt Elayeen’s smile washing over him even before he saw it on her face.
“Then,” she said, her voice full of hope, “For as long as the Council is there, I may return to my homeland?”
“Yes,” Allazar smiled, and reached out to rest a gentle hand on her shoulder, “For which you may thank Lord Rak of Tarn, and his skills of diplomacy, and doubtless those of your father too.”
8. The Darkness and the Light
“Then,” said Gawain, standing and helping Elayeen to her feet, “Unless there is something more about the circle you need to see, Allazar, we should leave.”
“Then you have found what was important, mithroth? The reason for our unseemly haste across the plains?”
“Ah.” Gawain managed, “Well…”
Elayeen blinked, and cocked her head slightly, looking up at Gawain and folding her arms dramatically.
“The wizard will explain all. He himself has declared the circle most important. And, in fact, was saying something about how the knowledge of this modern age trumped all previous attempts at unravelling the mysteries of the circle.”
“Ah.” Allazar managed, “Well…”
Elayeen turned her creditably stern gaze upon the wizard, who clumsily fumbled with the Dymendin staff while trying to sling his bag over his shoulder.
“Well, wizard?” Gawain smiled wickedly, still too full of the warmth he felt radiating from Elayeen at the prospect of lawfully being able to enter Elvendere once again, even though faranthroth.
“Well,” Allazar said, smiling, and then regaining his dignity and composure. “In truth, my lady, Longsword was quite right to bring us here.”
“Really?” Elayeen was suddenly excited, though whether at the prospect of discovering the source of Gawain’s ‘something important’ or the prospect of imminently heading for Elvendere, it couldn’t be said.
“Really?” Gawain echoed, hopefully, though retaining a generous measure of scepticism.
“Yes. The very fact that Morloch commanded Salaman Goth to rise up from his lair within the Gorian Empire not once, but twice, is proof of the fact that he fears Longsword more than any army Lord Rak might persuade Council to raise.”
“Twice?” a confused Gawain asked, frowning.
“Twice. Once to lay the guardstones at the Farin Bridge, which alerted our dark enemy to your arrival here, and again, once you passed between them.”
Elayeen drew in a sharp breath. “Then we may expect another attack, for I too passed over the bridge…”
“No, lady,” Allazar smiled reassuringly, leaning on the staff now as though he’d carried it all his life. “The guardstones served like a single strand of a spider’s web, alerting the spider, in this case Salaman Goth, when the bridge was first crossed by Longsword and I. The spider had already left his lair and was winging his way here to the Keep when you crossed the bridge, and thus he did not receive the trembling of that slender thread to warn him of your passing. If he had, I fear the outcome of our encounter might have ended badly for us all.”
“Indeed.” Gawain’s voice too was serious now. “I could not have held much longer.”
“Nor I at all,” Allazar nodded sternly. “In that, Salaman Goth’s outrage at being summoned by Morloch to do the work of an apprentice, as he put it, was not far off the mark. We were beaten, Longsword, but for your lady.”
Gawain agreed, wrapping his arms around Elayeen and drawing her close as they both faced the wizard across the steps.