When Aeren turned back to address the Evant again, Colin yanked on Eraeth’s sleeve hard enough that the Protector growled.
“It’s him,” Colin said. “The man who met Benedine.”
Eraeth straightened. “Where?”
“He came in after Aeren started speaking and handed Lord Khalaek a note.”
“The note he got from Benedine?”
“I think so, but I can’t tell from here. Should I-?” He made a fluttering gesture with his hand, but Eraeth’s eyes widened slightly in horror.
“Not here!”
Colin frowned in disgust, but then his gaze fell on Lotaern. The Chosen was watching him with that same concentrated interest he’d shown before. The other lords may have turned their attention back to Aeren, but not Lotaern.
“Keep an eye on him as best you can,” Eraeth said, his own gaze flicking toward Khalaek’s location, but not lingering long. “I’ll inform Aeren.” He shifted forward, so that he stood beside the seat designated for Aeren, unobtrusive, but far enough forward to catch Aeren’s attention.
Colin settled in to watch the man who’d met with Benedine, conscious of Lotaern’s continued interest as a prickling of the hairs on the back of his neck.
“-find it distasteful that you would presume to begin talks with the dwarren, let alone the humans, without first seeking the advice and counsel of the Evant,” Lord Peloroun stated. His words were civil, but the tone was bitter. “What of those of us who have lands bordering along the plains? What of our losses over the last hundred years? Do we not have a say in whether peace should be sought with them?”
Aeren didn’t respond at first, waiting to see if Peloroun’s tirade would continue, but the lord shook his head in disgust and returned to his seat. Out of the corner of his eye, Aeren could see Lord Jydell and Lord Waerren nodding slightly. None of the issues brought up against his proposal so far had been unexpected, but the resistance he felt from the Evant was greater than he’d anticipated. Yet it wasn’t the lords that bothered him.
It was the Tamaell… and the presence of Lotaern. Fedorem had said nothing since he’d called the session into order and handed the proceedings over to Aeren. He sat in silence, even as the lords attacked him, the Tamaea and the Tamaell Presumptive to either side. Aeren risked a quick glance at the three, not certain what the presence of the Tamaea and the Presumptive indicated, but all three were watching him, waiting for him to respond. The Tamaea frowned slightly, but otherwise there was no sign of what any of them were thinking.
As for Lotaern…
He shook his head and turned fully toward Lord Peloroun. “I realize that the majority of the burden placed on the Alvritshai regarding the dwarren has fallen on you and those with lands along the plains, Lord Peloroun, but what I have to offer-what the dwarren seem willing to accept-is a release of that burden from you altogether. Would it not be beneficial to all concerned if the tension along the border eased? How many resources do you and Lords Jydell, Waerren, and Khalaek expend on guarding the border, resources that could be used for something productive, such as farming or the expansion of the irrigation canals?”
“But what of our losses?” Lord Peloroun growled. “What of the destruction the dwarren have caused? What of the loss of life, of family and kin, killed during the raids?”
“You would rather risk the lives of those who remain by continuing to fight, when there is a chance to end it?” Aeren let some of his own pain color his voice. “You are not the only one who has lost family to the dwarren. Do not presume to claim a greater pain than the rest of us-”
He would have continued, but a sharp gasp interrupted him. He cut off and turned to see Colin, eyes wide, Eraeth’s hand clamped onto his shoulder. The human caught Aeren’s gaze and held it, but then waved his hand in mute frustration. As Aeren turned away, he saw Eraeth speaking to him. Aeren turned back to Peloroun, his voice hardening.
“As I was saying, we have all suffered. I, for one, am tired of it.”
“But some of us are not,” Peloroun said, leaning forward. “Some of us have lost sons to the dwarren and are not so ready to forgive.”
“Some of us have lost our entire family to the dwarren,” Aeren countered.
Peloroun rose at the challenge in Aeren’s tone but before he could say anything, Tamaell Fedorem stood and said, “Enough.”
The word sliced through the tension in the room as smoothly as a blade, and everyone’s attention turned toward the platform. Aeren noticed that Eraeth had stood and moved to the edge of the Evant’s inner circle and made his way to his Protector’s side to clear the floor. When Eraeth drew breath to speak, he waved him to silence.
Tamaell Fedorem waited until he had everyone’s attention, the room falling utterly silent, then stepped forward to the edge of the platform, his face impassive.
“As Lord Aeren has pointed out, we have all suffered from this prolonged war with the dwarren and the humans. We have all lost loved ones as well as friends. We are not here to dispute that. And we are not here to determine who has suffered more or less than the others. Such a thing cannot be determined, no matter how long we spend in this room arguing over it.
“What we are here to discuss, and what we are here to decide, is whether or not it is time to seek peace with the dwarren. Lord Aeren has provided us with… an opportunity.” Fedorem smiled tightly and turned to the Tamaea, who bowed her head. “We have been at odds with the dwarren for nearly two hundred years, the war fluctuating, with intense periods of battle and long years of tension and general unrest. During these years, many decisions were made, all with the good of the Alvritshai in mind, even though in retrospect not all of those decisions were… wise.”
A low murmur arose, although it died quickly. Aeren shot a glance at Eraeth, eyes raised in question, but his Protector shrugged. He wondered if the Tamaell’s words refered to the decisions made at the battle at the Escarpment, but there was no way to tell. If they had. ..
If they had, then perhaps there was hope after all.
And as if he were answering that hope, the Tamaell continued. “We have lived in a period of general stability in the last thirty years, since the Escarpment. Mistakes were made then that cannot be easily rectified, but Lord Aeren has given us a chance to start. I think it is time to start.” He cast his gaze out over the Evant, catching each and every lord’s eye.
“There are those who will disagree with me. There are those who feel that what the dwarren have done in the past cannot be so easily forgiven. But I am not willing to let this opportunity pass by. Because of this, I will be traveling to meet with the dwarren, accompanied by the Tamaea and the Tamaell Presumptive. In addition, I would ask that the Chosen of the Order be part of my escort, as well as Lord Aeren and any of the remaining Lords of the Evant who wish to take part. I will not require this of any of you, and those who chose to remain behind will not be censured in any way.
“But it is time for these skirmishes-these raids and this war-to come to an end. It is time that I begin to rectify the mistakes I have made in the past. If the dwarren are willing, if they are sincere in their offer, then it will come to an end.”
The Tamaell let the silence that followed his announcement hang for a long moment, the lords stunned. Then he turned to Aeren.
“I assume that you will agree to accompany me, Lord Aeren?”
Aeren pulled himself out of shocked immobility and bowed formally. “Of course, Tamaell.”
Fedorem nodded once, then turned to Lotaern. “And you, Chosen?”
“Aielan has always and shall always support peace. May her Light guide us all in this.”
In the end, all protests and disagreements were set aside as all of the lords, including Khalaek, agreed to take part in the meeting on the plains.
“Then it is agreed,” Tamaell Fedorem said. “We shall meet with the dwarren and their Gathering in two weeks time. Gather your escorts. We will depart in two days.”
17
