“If I’m not back, she is to leave without me. There is a small army escorting our carriage. She will be safe.”
Cresson made a sour face. “It’s not her safety that is in question. It’s the foul mood she will be in when she learns of this.”
Mikahl let out a long sigh, knowing the truth of it. “I will go speak with her.” He smiled at the way relief washed visibly over the mage’s expression. “You have enough to do without having to deal with the wrath of the High Queen as well.”
As Mikahl strode toward the door he wondered why flying off to the Dragon Spire to confront some unknown enemy alone didn’t frighten him, yet going to tell his wife that he might not be there when she left for Westland in the morning unnerved him to no end.
Chapter 23
Corva was just about to reveal to King Mikahl that Telgra was the daughter of the elven Queen Mother, but the human mage interrupted him. He’d refrained from telling the High King this in their first two meetings because of the fact that the knowledge, once made public, could bring about terrible repercussions to the elven kingdom. Corva was certain that King Mikahl had a good heart and had no intention of bringing harm to the elves, but there were the rest of the courtiers there and the strange mage as well. He tried to speak to the High King alone, but the castle was always a flurry of activity. The High King barely seemed to have time to breathe. If a not so honorable person learned of Telgra’s identity, she could be captured and ransomed or worse. With such leverage, a few humans might be able to turn the wrath of the Queen Mother against whomever they desired.
Telgra was the heir to the entire elven kingdom, and the position was one that no other elf could ever fill. More than an inherited title, the line of Queen Mothers had a special bond with the earth and the forest that no other could obtain. They were deeply connected to the Heart of Arbor. Telgra’s powers, as she matured, would become incomprehensible to even the most learned elf. The current Queen Mother would not hesitate to make war on all mankind to protect her lineage. Thus Corva kept his tongue. He would have told the High King in private, but now the long-bearded mage was saying that King Mikahl was going, and that he would not be returning until winter was over.
The hospitality of the red castle had been extended to Corva and Dostin indefinitely. They could stay and wait in relative luxury for Lord Gregory to return. Dostin said he’d met the Lion Lord last summer when the man and his wife had visited the Isle of Salaya. It was on that very trip that the High King accidentally caused the fairy trees to bloom with his sword.
By using his keen senses, Corva managed to ascertain that Telgra was ultimately on a quest to the Leif Repline fountain. They were supposedly spending the winter months in some place so secretive that no one would reveal its location. She was traveling with a dwarf and a boy who’d been curiously spelled to stone.
There was an elven fable about the magical fountain and the creature that guarded it from abuse, but Corva couldn’t remember it. All he could recall was that the place was deep in the treacherous Giant Mountains and that the beast hadn’t sounded all that terrible by its description. The journey was no doubt dangerous. He felt that he had to find her and talk some sense into her. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking.
King Mikahl was being so tight-lipped about her that Corva had to respect his resolve. The king‘s explanation that he would be breaking his word to someone if he revealed where they were spending the winter was completely understandable. Corva had made similar promises in his life. He was frustrated beyond reason. Cresson said that she might have sent a message into the Evermore to be left at Vaegon’s Glade, but the mage wasn’t certain, and no one could say what the missive said. The question was, would Lord Gregory, upon his return, tell them where the others were spending the winter? Corva concluded that, if he couldn’t find out where Telgra was holing up, he would have no choice but to return to the Evermore Forest and face the Queen Mother with what he knew.
The idea of adventuring through the dangerous mountains with a dwarf, a person made of stone, and the legendary wizard Hyden Hawk intrigued him enough that he was envious of Telgra. If he found her before winter was over, and saw that she was reasonably safe, he could see himself going along on such a quest. Only if she was safe.
After waiting in the throne room for an hour, then finding out from the mage that the High King was no longer in Dreen, Corva decided that there was still a lot he could accomplish. There were stablemen who could be questioned, wagon loaders, guardsmen, and gate keepers. All of them were seemingly befuddled by his appearance. He could use that. Someone had to know where they had gone.
Dostin had stood patiently beside him throughout the morning session of the High King’s court without complaint. Corva had become attached to the monk’s loyalty. With a warm smile and a pat on Dostin’s back, he suggested that the two of them find something to eat and a private place to talk. Corva found that Dostin’s simple outlook on things often helped him make decisions. Dostin would no doubt again ask him a dozen different questions pertaining to why no one would tell them where Telgra had gone. Corva would answer. Dostin would ask more questions, and in the process of answering them, either Corva would find a new idea to help find a solution, or the solution would be there in one of Dostin’s simplistic queries.
They found a servant and asked if there was food available and if there was a place they could sit and talk quietly. The man showed them to a dimly torchlit hall used mostly for the staff. The weathered wooden table seated ten and had dirty plates and bowls piled upon it. The servant quickly tidied an area and hung a lantern on the wall nearby. He scurried away after telling them that he would return soon with some food and wine.
The two spoke while they ate, mostly Corva answering Dostin’s questions. Several members of the castle staff stopped in to take away dishes or clean the table and floor. It became clear that they were trying to get a glimpse of an elf without being obvious.
No sooner did they finish their meal than Lady Trella backed into the room as if she were trying to flee someone. She pulled the door to and stood there for a long moment, peering out of the crack. When she turned, she yelped out in fright. She hadn’t seen the two sitting there watching her.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, blushing brightly and trying to avoid the elf’s gaze. “I hope I didn’t intrude. I um… I was uh…”
“Hello, my lady,” Dostin said. He half stood and bowed his head. “You aren’t bothering us at all.”
“Are you all right?” Corva asked, standing. “Is someone after you?”
“No… no…” She blushed even more and gave Dostin a girlish wave. “The truth is, I’m hiding from Queen Rosa.” She giggled uneasily. “She is driving me mad with her preparations for Westland. And now that King Mikahl has suddenly left she has become a terror.”
“Come, sit.” Corva indicated an open seat at the table. “Join us. We were just discussing our predicament. You’re not intruding.”
“Thank you.” She smiled a little easier. “I sometimes hide in here when I want to get away from the silliness of the younger girls.”
“My lady, you are barely a child yourself,” Corva said with all the sincerity of a hundred-and-twenty-five- year-old elf.
“No, she’s not,” Dostin said stupidly. “She’s probably thirty-five summers old.”
Lady Trella beamed at the both of them. She was in fact nearing her forty-fifth summer. Lord Gregory, Rosa, and the younger girls always told her how youthful she appeared. She’d always thought they did so to make her feel better. These two had no reason to exaggerate. She was suddenly at ease and her smile was brilliant. “You’re too kind,” she replied.
“Because Corva is an old elf, over a hundred, he thinks all of us humans are little children,” Dostin said to her conspiratorially. “If you ask me, he is the one who looks like a child.”
Corva just smiled and shook his head. He reminded himself to explain to Dostin later that, when speaking to women, elven or human, you weren’t supposed to cheapen the compliments others gave them. He doubted Dostin understood the concept of a compliment. The monk spoke entirely from the heart. When he said something nice about someone it wasn’t because he was trying to make them feel better. It was because it was the truth, as he saw it.
“They say all elves look young,” Lady Trella said to Dostin with a grin. Suddenly something passed through
