He said nothing in response, but instead looked off into the distance. There was a hushed silence in the hall as everyone waited to see what he would do. One way or the other, Kirisin sensed, this was the turning point. He decided to try to tip the balance.
“Can you move everyone away from us for a moment?” he asked the captain of the Home Guard.
Ortish glanced over at him, hesitating. Then he motioned the guards to move back.
“You were there in the Council chambers when the Knight of the Word and the tatterdemalion told the King that the Ellcrys had spoken to me,” Kirisin said quietly, keeping his voice too low for anyone but Ortish to hear. “So you remember what they said. That I was to go in search of the Loden Elfstone. That when I found it, I was to use it to place the tree and the city and the Elven population inside so that they could be taken to another, safer place. No one believed this. No one even thought an Elfstone existed after all this time. There was no record of an Elfstone, nothing to support what any of us were saying.”
“I remember.”
Kirisin reached into his pocket and pulled out the Loden. He cupped it in the palm of his hand so that only Maurin Ortish could see it. “This is it. The Loden Elfstone. We found it on Syrring Rise. This is what will save us all. If you doubt my sister, if you don’t believe her, this should change your mind.”
The captain of the Home Guard stared at the Elfstone, and then he looked up at the boy. “How could you have found something like this, Kirisin?” he asked. “Are you sure of what it is?”
But before the boy could answer him, a familiar figure appeared in front of them, big and looming. “So there you are, Little K.”
Kirisin looked up to find Tragen standing next to them, his dark features lined with a mix of worry and confusion. And something else. Despair? Desperation? Kirisin wasn’t sure.
The big man tried a quick smile. “Hello, Sim.”
“What is it, Tragen,” Maurin Ortish asked, clearly irritated by the interruption.
Tragen looked exhausted. His clothes were torn and dirtied, and his face was scratched. “I need to speak with the King at once. Things are much worse than we thought.”
“Give your report to me.”
Tragen shook his head. “If I give it in the presence of the King and the members of the High Council, maybe I can say something that will help Kirisin and Simralin. About what they are telling you. About the Loden Elfstone. Please, Captain, let me come inside with you.”
Kirisin blinked. How long had Tragen been standing there? How much of what was said had he heard? Where had he come from, for that matter? He hadn’t been there before, had he?
Ortish glanced past the big Tracker. “Where are the others?”
“Dead. We were discovered, attacked, and then chased. The enemy caught up to us all, one by one. I was lucky. I fell down a ravine, and they lost sight of me in the dark. I hid until they had wandered away and I was able to crawl out again. Captain, please.”
Kirisin suddenly realized that he was standing there holding the Loden in his hand for anyone to see who happened to walk up to him. He closed his fingers around it and dropped it back into his pocket.
“Maurin, I think we all need a chance to speak before the High Council,” Simralin repeated. “Please give it to us.”
Maurin Ortish nodded. “I won’t promise that you’ll get two words out before the King has you hauled away. But I will take you into the chambers and let you do your best. Tragen, you might as well come with them if you’ve got something to say that bears on this.”
He signaled over to four of the guards. “But you’ll have company, so please don’t do anything to make me regret this decision.”
Leaving the remainder of the Home Guard without, he led the way over to the chamber doors and pushed them open.
TEN
AS KIRISIN ENTERED the chambers of the High Council, following close on the heels of Maurin Ortish and flanked by Simralin and Tragen, a heated debate was taking place. Various members of the Council were trying to talk over one another, and the King was shifting his dark gaze from one to the next, looking as if he would like to see all of them dropped into a deep hole and covered over. He didn’t notice the newcomers right away, his attention on something that Basselin was saying to a tall, sharp–featured woman whose name Kirisin could not remember.
The Council chambers were layered in shadows, the light reduced to a few wall lamps and a series of glow sticks hung from the rafters. It appeared that the meeting had begun in daylight and no one had bothered to do anything about the failing light when it had gotten dark. There was an air of desperation and distraction to the proceedings, reflected on the faces of the Council members and in the intensity of their words. No one seemed to have the attention of anyone else. No one looked the least bit happy.
Ordanna Frae glanced over and saw them, and he brought up one arm in a gesture that appeared to reflect a futile effort to ward them off rather than point them out. He tried to say something, but the arguments raging around him drowned out whatever words he spoke.
“My King! Ministers! Your attention, if you please!” Maurin Ortish was shouting in a way Kirisin had not thought possible given his normally soft manner of speaking. Heads turned. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I think you need to hear what these three have to say about the threat we are facing.” He paused as the King turned to look, and then he bowed deeply. “High Lord, your pardon.”
Arissen Belloruus was on his feet. His voice, when he spoke, was just barely under control. “You had best beg for my mercy, Captain. You have disobeyed me! Deliberately disobeyed me, Captain! What sort of madness has taken hold of you? Do you think yourself above me and therefore able to countermand my orders?”
The arguing ceased abruptly as the remaining members of the Council turned to look at what was happening.
The King wasn’t finished. His hand shook as he pointed at Ortish. “There is no excuse for what you have done. None, Captain. I am shocked and disappointed in you. Have these traitors taken out of my sight and locked up until I can deal with them! When that is done, you are relieved of your command and confined to your rooms!”
Maurin Ortish straightened. “My lord, I understand your anger. But young Kirisin has found the Loden Elfstone, and he and his sister claim to be able to shed light on the truth about your daughter’s death—”
“Enough!” the King shouted, fists clenched, face contorted. “Don’t say another word, Captain Ortish, or by everything the Elves believe in I’ll have you—”
“My lord, we are in need of knowing more! Look at what threatens us! Tragen returns to give us his report on the size and intentions of the enemy. His entire command was killed, all five of them. If you will just listen to what young Kirisin …”
He kept talking, but his words were drowned out by the King’s roar of fury as he charged down off the dais. He might have reached his captain of the Home Guard and attacked him, but Ordanna Frae stepped directly into his path and took hold of his arms.
“My King, please.” He blocked the other physically, smaller and older than the King, but determined.
The King tried to shove him aside, but other members of the Council had risen to their feet to block his way, as well. He slowed, and then stopped, breathing hard, glaring at Ortish.
“My King,” Ordanna Frae repeated. He waited for the other man to look at him, flinching at the rage mirrored in his eyes. “No one here blames you for your anger over Erisha’s death. But our city and our people are threatened, and we must find a way to save them. To do that, we need to hear anything— anything–that might bear on the subject. If young Kirisin has something to tell us, we should hear him out. It cannot hurt us at this point. It cannot hurt you.”