Elvenborn

Kyrtian had debated whether or not to tell his mother every­thing, and decided now that on the whole she was better off not knowing about how he had interrupted the challenge-combat, since only good had come out of his near-blunder in the end. 'Well, I know you don't care who won the dispute—but Gel and I managed to pull off a little triumph that I think you two will approve of.'

Tenebrinth blinked, and his mother raised an eyebrow. 'Oh?' she said. 'Now what have you two gotten into?'

'Well, there's good news and there's inconvenient news,' he replied, 'The inconvenient news is that Lyon Lord Kyndreth wants to visit for long enough to learn my training and combat methods. The good news is that the reason he does is that we persuaded the two feuding lords to have their differences set­tled in a combat my way, between Gel and Lord Lyon's man. Lyon was impressed, and not only wants to know how the spells are set, but said in the presence of the other lords that he intends to make this the way in which fighters are trained and disputes settled from now on. After seeing bloodless combat, he says that he agrees with me; the old ways are too wasteful to continue.'

With every word, Lydiell and Tenebrinth grew more and more astonished, eyes widening and mouths dropping slightly open. It was Tenebrinth who could not restrain himself as Kyrt­ian leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face.

'By the Ancestors, boy, that isn't good news, it's wonderful news! Do you realize what this means to the humans out there?' Tenebrinth waved his arm at the world outside the windows.

'Well—mostly,' Lady Lydiell interjected gently. 'There are going to be those of our race whose thirst for blood and cruelty will not be satisfied with bloodless combat and who will con­tinue to waste the lives of gladiators. Not even Lyon could get a law through the Council forbidding them to kill their own slaves. That strikes at the heart and soul of what nearly every Elvenlord sees as his basic rights over creatures he considers to be no better than beasts and property.' At Kyrtian's nod of agreement, she smiled. 'Nonetheless, Tenebrinth is right. Most of the Elvenlords will be only too pleased with the notion that they can settle differences through bloodless combat. It's a great drain, breeding and buying expensive fighting stock. The further expense of training gladiators and keeping them in training is bad enough; it's worse to have their expensive prop­erty massacred during training, and nearly as bad when the massacre happens in settling a petty argument, leaving them to train gladiators all over again if they wish to maintain their po­sition and status.'

Tenebrinth nodded. 'That's been a complaint of the Lesser Lords against the Greater for the past two generations—very few have the resources to toss away slaves without considering the expense! Lord Lyon will gain a great deal of support among the Lesser Lords for this, if he makes it policy—and almost as importantly, he won't aggravate the Greater. He stands to win all around.'

Lydiell patted her son's hand. 'I'm so pleased that I won't even ask what trouble you tumbled into in order to achieve this remarkable goal!'

'Mother!' Kyrtian objected, hoping he didn't sound guilty.

'But the price of this is that we are to expect Lord Kyndreth some time in the immediate future?' the Seneschal interjected. 'Did you actually set a date for the visit?'

'No date has been set, and I told him that I would send him a Portal-key when I had things ready for him. I tried to give the impression that, as we were a small household, reclusive and unused to visitors, we needed time to prepare for the visit of so prominent a guest. He was satisfied with that so far as I could tell, and I have no intention of letting him set foot here until

everyone is prepared. That won't be until you two and Gel have gotten the servants and field-hands ready to hold up the illusion that this is an ordinary estate,' Kyrtian assured him. 'He didn't seem all that impatient and he wasn't offended that I couldn't offer him our hospitality immediately.'

'No doubt he has business of his own to take care of before he can afford a formal visit,' the Seneschal murmured, as if to himself.

'More likely he is taking the time to see who is and is not our ally, going back to the time we all left Evelon,' Lydiell replied tartly. 'Someone of his rank and status can't afford an ally with an inconvenient number of deadly enemies.'

'Well, the only enemy we have that I know of is Ael-markin....' Kyrtian said, letting his voice trail off and looking at his mother questioningly.

'Correct; Aelmarkin is our only open enemy, with the re­mote possibility that his allies might choose to throw in on his side,' his mother confirmed. 'Though once they see that Lyon has thrown in with us, however briefly, they are unlikely to back Aelmarkin against us in anything important. Thank the Ancestors we never meddled in politics on either side of the family! We'll have a clean slate, so far as Lord Lyon is con­cerned. All we have to worry about is keeping up appearances for a few days at most.'

'I—don't intend to ask anything of Lord Lyon for this, Mother,' Kyrtian said, hesitantly. 'And I don't intend to make it seem as if I consider it a great favor on my part to teach him my methods. I want it to seem as if I consider this to be—how shall 1 put this?—something that I truly believe should be offered, part of my duty to the Elvenlords as a whole. I want to give him the impression of a solemn young man who is devoted to the welfare of his people. Which I am; just not the people that he thinks.' He smiled. 'There's no point in disillusioning him on that.'

'Exactly right; any of the ordinary status-grubbers would do the opposite,' she confirmed. 'By acting differently than he ex­pects, you'll catch him off guard and he won't know quite what to think of us. At best, he may decide that we're worth

having as a permanent ally. The worst he'll assume is that we are so quietly provincial, so wrapped up in our own ways and life, with such quaint ideas of loyalty and duty, that we are no threat or challenge to anyone. We'll be safe to patronize, and he'll be motivated to protect us from any more of Aelmarkin's maneuverings.'

'For my part, I would say that this would be the best thing he could assume,' Kyrtian replied, relieved. 'Can I take it that you approve?'

'Completely,' Lady Lydiell said, as Tenebrinth nodded. Kyrtian smiled, a little thrill of pleasure tickling his spirit at the notion that his first foray into the dangerous world of Great Lords and politics had come off so successfully.

Even though I almost turned it into a disaster, he reminded himself. This is not the time for hubris!

He took his leave of both of them and stepped into the tube, which held him in place until the platform rose to receive him. Once he had been deposited on the ground floor, he headed straight for the West Tower, which held all five floors of the great library.

He planned to do a little genealogical investigation himself before his own plans went any further.

In the home of every Elvenlord, Great or Lesser, there was always a Great Book of Ancestors, kept up to date by either the Lady of the clan or a clerk she personally supervised. Every birth, death, and wedding was promptly reported to the Coun­cil, which sent out immediate notification to every household, however small and insignificant. No marriage or alliance could be made without consulting the Great Book, which dated back to the exile from Evelon.

Kyrtian sat at the table holding the Great Book on its slant­ing stand, and drew it closer to him. As he always did, because those First Days fascinated him, Kyrtian opened the Book to the first page where the names of all of those who had dared the Gate out of Evelon were written. Fully half of them were inscribed with death-dates that came within days or weeks of the Crossing. Some had died of the strain of the Crossing it­self, or of injuries sustained in Evelon before the Crossing.

Few in these days realized that those who had made the Crossing had been the losers in a war that had split Elvenkind and set one half warring against the other. The Crossing had been