I have been fortunate in the emails I have had from readers offering suggestions, or constructive criticism.
In point of fact, thus far these suggestions have brought forth a completely appropriate plot twist, crystallized which of the 3 possible endings I had to choose from and the solution to a problem I had in continuing the story without coming up with something really silly to bridge the two main parts of the storyline.
So this chapter is dedicated to Nathan, Brad and Matthew who have all added their unique touches to the Dream.
Cperez@gmotion.com 1/16/2004
"Pledge yourself to what must be done now and do not worry about the future. Everything will unfold only as the present shapes it. Do not despair the coming darkness, for all dreams must end."
--- Acheronkelmar'omara in his last speech to the elves
"I cannot allow it." King C'ominar stated flatly. "I understand your feelings E'rin, but the fact remains that the young human is not the designated Heir to the Throne of Man."
'And this day had started so well.' E'rin thought to himself as he drew a deep breath in order to get a handle on his irritation. He loved his father dearly, but by the gods could the man be obtuse.
In the course of beginning to repair many of the ravages the orks had unleashed on the great city of El'Analon, the elves had discovered that they Great Library had come under attack. Guardians were found slain, or imprisoned. One of the imprisoned Guardians had turned out to be none other than E'rin's own brother A'lema.
A'lema reported the fact that the orks had never penetrated the library. It had been a half elf that had attacked the library and killed or imprisoned the Guardians to get her hands on the Histories. As a Guardian, A'lema had known instinctively that the woman had intended to abuse the Histories and use the information contained therein to gain advantage for the orks. Such a use would alter the course of history and violate the will of the god Omar.
The knowledge that such a powerful individual had chosen to serve the cause of Kerlack was disturbing, but that shadow such knowledge brought to the hearts of the Royal family was dispelled. Trapped as he had been, A'lema had nowhere to look but in his own heart and decided that running away from his pain was not the answer. He had returned to his family and King C'ominar and Queen J'el had welcomed him with open arms.
The family and its closest advisors were gathered together in their private chambers, getting acquainted and catching up on recent events. E'rin had, of course, advised his father about the death of Prince Ethan and all about Andy being a sorcerer and descendant of the first son of the first King Nickels, as well as his plans to marry as soon as possible.
"Your Majesty," he began formally " perhaps I haven't made myself completely clear on the subject." He paused to gather his thoughts. E'rin hated arguing with his father, but he was damned if he would let the world fall apart for propriety's sake.
"Father, I think that E'rin wants to point out that Andy has greater claim to the throne of Man than King Kail himself." A'lema said, smoothly cutting into the conversation.
E'rin opened his mouth to interject that such a point would be obvious to anyone who possessed two or more functioning brain cells, but the sharp, almost painful squeeze his elder brother gave his elbow caused him to just nod in support of her declaration of his intent.
Normally, C'ominar was a very sharp politician. Unfortunately for him, he was so happy to have the son he thought he would never see again returned to him, he was naturally inclined to dote on him. A'lema decided early on in the conversation to use this advantage to help his little brother. He simply smiled at A'lema indulgently and nodded as if to concede the point.
"There is another consideration here Your Majesty." I'olias cut in.
"What would that be?" C'ominar asked absently.
"Asane'ta K'sha, Your Majesty." I'olias said calmly. "He wielded the Royal sword. In fact he used it to kill an assassin. The sword did not strike him down." He pointed out. "All know that the sword will strike down any not of the Royal Line that touches it, so the fact that he is related by blood to Your Majesty can be considered proven." He shrugged eloquently.
C'ominar considered that for a moment before responding. "I see your point I'olias, and yours as well E'rin." He nodded to his heir. "The fact remains however that he is not the designated heir, nor is he King. We will not give Our consent to a marriage that is not in strict accordance with the Cycle." He said firmly.
E'rin ignored the pressure that had had begun on his elbow again as his father spoke. E'rin's eyes narrowed as he glared at his father. "Your will is of no moment." He began coldly. He ignored the gasps and looks of shock he got from those around him. "It is not coincidence that I pulled him from the River of Dreams, nor is the fact that he is my belshatha random chance. We WILL be married, your will be damned."
C'ominar's eyes narrowed in anger and outrage. "You think to defy Our will?" he demanded. "You would commit treason and defy your King?"
"You will not be King for long Your Majesty." E'rin said, his eyes flat and cold. "If you persist in resisting that which must be, there will be nothing to keep Ter'Zhull from tearing El'Analon down around your ears." He shook his head. "I very much doubt that when he does, that he will repeat his mistake of letting you live. Consider that while you think on your Royal prerogatives!"
E'rin turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving his father so furious as to be speechless.
The reorganization of the Horde took almost two full days. The warriors and shamans had been scattered to the winds in the aftermath of the battle with the humans and the titanic earthquake that had split the ground open.
Ter'Zhull himself had not been much help for the first day, as he was recovering from his near destruction at the hands of the Gestalt. It seemed impossible for him to be overwhelmed by such an entity, because by the very nature of the elves that formed a Gestalt, it lacked the focus of a single mind. Great power was raised in such a joining, but it required that every elf in that link have a matching will, lest they work against their fellows unwittingly. Before the battle, Ter'Zhull would have laughed off a suggestion that such a perfect fusion of purpose could unite any group of beings, let alone the free-spirited Bladedancers, for the length of time it had taken to defeat him.
He was honest enough to admit that he HAD been defeated. He knew that the only reason that the Gestalt hadn't reduced him to a gibbering idiot at best was that it had been distracted to open the rift. That same honesty gave him the determination to not take the humans and their allies so lightly in the future.
Once his head had cleared, Ter'Zhull had been able to kick the Horde into shape in fairly short order. He didn't blame his lesser shamans for being unable to pull everything together as quickly, mostly because of the shock and horror they had to be feeling from witnessing the forces that had broken them off from the humans. However, such morale crushing memories could not be allowed to plague the Horde or the shamans and War-Chiefs. It was for this reason that he called the leaders of the Horde together.
He began by getting reports on losses and it wasn't good.
"We lost over twenty THOUSAND warriors?" He demanded incredulously. His voice dropped into a menacing rumble as he glared at his subordinates. "How could you possibly lose twice the enemies numbers and still not wipe him out?" He let his fulminating gaze sweep the shamed shamans and War-Chiefs before he continued. "Have I perhaps made an error in my choice of officers?"
"Great One." One of the War-Chiefs said, raising his head to look directly at his leader. "We had the humans at our mercy and were about to crush their forward lines and finish them off as a force. It was the rift Great one, we could not fight the earth itself, and without you we had no way to stop the human's magic from ripping the ground open to save themselves."
"Are you, perhaps, suggesting that it is my fault Zar'Kom?" Ter'Zhull asked quietly.
"Great One, it is not for me to place blame." The War-Chief said carefully. "All here know it is your power, and your power alone that has brought us this far, and without your power we could not prevail against the humans. This," he gestured at the gaping wound in the ground not 10 feet away, "crevasse is proof that we need you now more than ever."
Ter'Zhull snorted in amusement. Zar'Kom was the protege of the great War-Chief Kotar Bone-crusher, whom Ter'Zhull had rendered mute to eliminate his chances of creating dissent amongst the warriors with his charismatic strength. Like his mentor, Zar'Kom was far more intelligent than the average ork, and far, far brighter than he let on. Fortunately, he was also loyal to the Purpose to which Ter'Zhull had set their race, and would follow that Purpose regardless of the personal cost. It was why he was still alive.
Ter'Zhull was about to respond to Zar'Kom's speech when a guard approached and knelt before the Shaman. "What do you want?" He demanded irritably.
"Great One, the scouts report a sizable force of orks moving this way. Its leader is coming ahead and has requested an immediate audience with you." The guard said.
Ter'Zhull grunted his agreement. As the guard scurried off to pass on whoever it was bringing more troops, he considered what their arrival indicated. He had left a considerable amount of the Horde back home of course, as well as a significant presence scattered throughout the Elvin Forest hunting down elf stragglers, not that he expected them to find much of course. There were also the garrisons he had left in El'Analon and the ruins of the Border Fortresses.
His eyes narrowed as the leader of the incoming troops came forward with a huge warrior respectfully behind him.
"Ner'Zhull," he began calmly, "why are you here?"
As the shaman came to a halt and knelt down, Ter'Zhull recognized the guard and so, apparently, had others. He could hear "Kotar" and "Bone-crusher" being murmured among his followers. He had given the now silent warrior to the shaman Forner'Zhull as a servant and strong-arm. The senior shaman had been useless in the field, but Ter'Zhull had expected that even such a complete waste of air could effectively crush the spirit of the former War-Chief. Last he had heard the shaman had been calling Kotar by the name 'Xerex' which literally meant 'dog' or 'pet'. Apparently he was not all that broken.
"Great One," Ner'Zhull began, "We are the remnants of the garrison of El'Analon."
A ripple of shock passed through Ter'Zhull and his subordinates. "Explain!" He snapped. "What forces could possibly have taken the city?"
"Great One, it was a combined force of elves and humans. They brought with them the elf king's sword, and freed the royal couple." Ner'Zhull bowed his head. "Forner'Zhull died ordering a counterattack against the elfin queen wielding the sword, his death was swift."
Ter'Zhull began to swear fluently. How could even the complete cretin like Forner'Zhull lose such as well-defended city? "How did they get in?"
It was at this point that Kotar came forward and knelt before Ter'Zhull. With sharp gestures he made his wish to answer the Shaman clear. Ter'Zhull considered for a moment and then wove a spell over the former War-Chief. When he was finished, he had restored the ork's ability to speak, but only the truth.
Kotar cleared his throat, bemused over his fortune and sure that it was only temporary. "Great One, the shaman Forner'Zhull is responsible for the loss of El'Analon. He encouraged the warriors to loot the city and revel in an uncontrolled drinking binge." He snorted in disgust. It was well known that HIS tribe was the most disciplined of all. "He ignored shaman Ner'Zhull's warnings and so the enemy was able to sneak in the city past the besotted guards." He spat to the side. "The fool then tried to gather the worthless warriors to actually attack this force and the elf witch. We would have been slaughtered, leaving you none the wiser as to the fate of the city."
"How exactly did Forner'Zhull die?" Ter'Zhull asked casually.
Kotar's mouth twisted as the spell compelled his honesty. "He died with my axe in his skull Great One." He admitted grudgingly. "I killed him so that Ner'Zhull could assume command and bring word of the catastrophe to you."
Ter'Zhull nodded. Forner'Zhull was no great loss. The weakling had only been allowed to live because it was inconceivable that he could attempt to overthrow Ter'Zhull's leadership. Perhaps it was time for a change.
"Kotar, will you serve me willingly?" He asked quietly. "Without the need for compulsion?"
The warrior considered this for a minute. "I will serve the race, and God with all my heart and soul." He said. "For as long as you have the God's favor, you will have my service."
Ter'Zhull nodded one in agreement. "You shall be War-Chief of my own tribe Kotar Bone-crusher. You will guide the Horde as you guided your original tribe and teach them all discipline." The newly restored War-Chief slammed his fist to his chest in salute as Ter'Zhull turned to Ner'Zhull.
"You shall take Forner'Zhull's place. He was a worthless waste of air, but I could trust him not to betray me because he lacked the spine. I expect you to be smart enough to know that serving me is in your best interest. You shall be my apprentice, but I expect you to defer to Kotar in military matters." Ner'Zhull bowed his head in gratitude as Ter'Zhull waved him off. "Join with the others. It was well you preserved what you could of the warriors, for we will have need of every axe in the coming battles."
"Will we turn to crush the elves?" Asked one of his lesser shamans.
"No," Ter'Zhull snarled, "we will pursue these humans and grind them into dust. We can always reduce El'Analon once more by bringing up reinforcements if need be." He looked to Kotar. "Secure your position quickly. I want the scouts out to find the human's trail."
Orders given, the great Shaman turned to meditate upon the crystal whose power he would need.
Andy recovered fairly quickly from his little ordeal.
That is to say that he was conscious and able to at least move. He felt, frequently in fact, that he must have died when he fell off that cliff back in Haven, and it was only now that his body had caught on. Every muscle in his body was so stiff he was convinced that rigor mortis had set in while he was asleep. Moving was sheer agony, but it was the only way he could get his muscles loose enough to allow him to breath. That didn't even include the dizziness or headache.
He spent the first days while the Host marched toward their ork welcoming party, on carts and wagons of various types. He would talk to the wounded on the wagons, chat with passing soldiers and generally show them that he was just fine and ready to produce various miracles on command. 'When did I become such a good liar?' He thought to himself.
He noticed that the soldiers and wizards seemed to regard him with a profound sense of awe. It was well known throughout the army (the rumor mill appeared to move faster than light in this world too!) that he had personally smacked down the ork warlord and commanded the Earth itself to save the Host. It took all his willpower to suppress a groan every time he saw the look of adoration on the face of his men. It was probably for the best that he managed to keep himself to a serious look and friendly nod. Anything more would have hurt too much.
The nights were the most interesting part of the six-day journey. Always before Andy had noticed that the Bladedancers that had joined the Host would gather together slowly as the sun settled below the horizon and the blue moon rose overhead. Always before they would gather around A'rion and talk quietly, laugh and joke, or just generally socialize.
The first night after he woke up, he had sat alone with a fire that Nathan had made for him. The young attendant had been standing nearby when A'rion showed up and took a seat near the fire as well. Slowly, one by one or in pairs, the other Bladedancers began to arrive.
Each night, they would gather around wherever Andy was, casually shooing away anyone else, and proceeded to shoot the shit or talk about magic, or "the Song", or sometimes even singing how the Song sounded to them. Andy would always sit quietly and listen, not knowing why he was the only outsider allowed, but grateful for the chance to get to know these wondrous people. He learned a great deal about the Bladedancers, both as people and as a group this way and the knowledge they shared honored him.
It was on the fourth such night that one of the Bladedancers, U'lian by name, turned to him and asked. "Why do you stay so silent Honored One?"
Andy started in surprise at being addressed. He looked around and noticed that all other conversation had died as the Bladedancers all looked to him as if waiting for his response.
"I didn't think you'd appreciate an outsider butting in." He said with a shrug.
A chuckle ran amongst the gathered elves, and A'rion shook his head ruefully. "There are no outsiders here, none are permitted."
Andy blinked in confusion. "I don't understand"
"What language have we been speaking these past four nights Honored One?" U'lian asked.
Andy thought about what he had just been asked. Slowly he recalled the EXACT words that the Blade Dancer had used: 'A'ne anarae pethilsha bo'orian te'mina E'nathi?' Since when had he learned to speak Elvin? He shook his head violently, as if trying to clear it.
"Only another Bladedancer, and a senior one at that, could have guided the gestalt as you did Honored One." U'lian went on calmly. "It seemed impossible, but it is simple truth. You are one of us and so you are not an outsider." He shrugged.
"So that's why you have been all gathering around me?" Andy asked. "I thought you were just being nice." He blushed as the elves laughed out loud.
"We gather here because it is agreed amongst us that you are the most senior of us here." A'rion explained with a grin. "So feel free to speak up, there is virtually no formality here!" He gave Andy a broad wink.
"Yes Honored One." Came a call from one of the female Bladedancers further back. "Tell us how you managed such fine control."
Andy smiled. He didn't know how or why, but for the first time he felt like he fit in.
"Well, what you have to understand...."
E'rin sat in the high branches of the Royal apartments and looked down on the city, his home, that he had liberated. He sighed as he considered his behavior earlier.
Perhaps part of it was the fact that he was riding high on the feeling of having accomplished what would have seemed like an impossible task less than a month ago. He felt that his father should grant his words a little more consideration rather than casually dismissing them.
Mostly though, he knew that he did not react well to the idea that he might not get to be with Andy after all. Before he had known his belshatha's heritage, E'rin had been resigned to the fact that he would be marrying another. He knew of course that he would always have Andy as a concubine and that had been enough. Until, of course, he had found out the truth.
He had been filled with joy when he learned of Andy's heritage. It meant that they could be married, joined together as only those who were bonded could be. It was the most perfect moment in his life.
His father's opposition threatened to take that away from him and he knew that he had allowed his anger and sense of betrayal to get out of control. He knew he should have handled that much differently, but it was too sensitive an issue for him.
Lost in his thoughts, he never noticed that another had joined him until he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jerked in surprise and looked back to see A'lema standing over him, looking down with concern on his face.
"Do you want to talk about it?" His brother asked.
E'rin sighed and looked back over the city. It seemed that its damage matched the damage of his heart. "What is there to talk about?" He asked quietly.
A'lema sat down next to him and stared out into the night. "You know, when I was your age, I was completely convinced that I would be chosen Heir." He grinned and glanced over at E'rin. "Father came to me one day and asked if I would mind if he were to choose another to take the Throne. He said that he could choose another and then abdicate and we could go and live together, just him, mother and me." He sighed. "I refused of course. 'Duty compels me to take up the burden' was how I responded to him." His head bowed as he remembered. "True enough on the face of it, but deep down it offended me that anyone else might take MY place."
E'rin had turned to look at his brother as he opened his heart on what had to be a terrible memory for him.
"I will never forget that day in the Court of the Sun. All the House leaders had come so had many respected Bladedancers. I had been a full Bladedancer myself for over a year at this point." He said as almost an aside. "Anyway, I strode boldly up to the throne, and stood before it, waiting for my destiny to come to me." He stopped for a moment, gazing out into the night and seeing again the moment that changed his life forever.
"I couldn't even draw the damn thing." He said quietly. He looked up at the sky, thoughtfully looking at the light of the Goddess. He took a deep breath and then continued. "I tried with all my might, but the sword would not even come out of its resting place." He shook his head. "I blamed father for it of course, it had to be that he had turned it against me to try to get his own way. I stormed out of the throne room and left the Palace, determined never to return."
A'lema turned his head to look right at his younger brother. "It was my pride of course. It's what made the sword reject me, and what made me turn my back on my family. You are different E'rin. I know that you are frustrated and probably even insulted. Always remember what I forgot though, Father and Mother both love you very much, and even if they can be unreasonable sometimes it is not because they want to cause you grief." He reached out and put his arm around E'rin, drawing him close.
"He is my belshatha brother." E'rin said quietly, as tears ran down his face. "I cannot simply forget that." He inhaled shakily. "But I will not forget that they love me either." With that, he laid his head on his brother's shoulder and let himself cry.
The column's arrival in the valley was greeted with great fanfare. Word of the battle had spread quickly. Combined with the scouts' reports on the obvious confusion amongst the orks served to significantly boost the morale of the Host as a whole.
As he passed through the mountain pass, Andy made casual inspections of the defensive works being set up in multiple layers down the narrow pass' length. Breast works, pits, stake filled trenches and hedges of spikes were filled in behind the column as it passed through. The sides of the mountains along this path had been magically sliced down into sheer cliffs that would make bypassing the defenses essentially impossible.
At the far end where the mountains opened up into the valley, the engineers and supporting elves and wizards had finished construction of a massive wall. 50 feet high on the bastion over the gate, and 30 feet thick, the solid stone wall was topped with a crenellation and an archer's row behind and slightly below the fighting platform which most of the soldiers would occupy.
The wall itself was dotted with many little holes all along its length, in three rows. Once inside, Andy discovered that the holes were firing ports through the wall for the arbalests, which had been built into the wall. He stopped to examine these anti-personnel engines, and noted that their firing arms were formed of the spring steel that he had suggested for the ballista. Each arbalest would fire thirty, 3-foot long, steel-tipped bolts. They were placed close together along the wall, and twenty of those engines were emplaced along each side of the gate.
The sheer scale of the construction in the short amount of time available was a sobering testimony to the power of the alliance. The wall had been formed, rather than pieced together, using the techniques that they had preserved from ancient days when they had learned from Hurin's children and the mountain stone that had been shaved from the valley walls. The stone fairly hummed with power from the many spells that had been layered into it.
The "gate" was really nothing more than a massive block of stone, perfectly sized to fit in the passage through the wall like a plug. Steel bars would be slotted in behind the stone plug to keep the massive "door" closed. Andy assumed that magic would be used to move the stone into place when the time came.
All told, the defenses were rather frightening. Andy was morbidly curious to see what places such as Hereon were like. It would be very educational to see what these people had accomplished with the defenses that they had over a thousand years to work on and perfect. A'rion seemed to have been reading his mind on the subject.
"It is not always like this you know." The Bladedancer said conversationally. "There are always those who think things should be done their way and there are those who disagree with them. People build things, and others come along behind them and change or remove what they have done." He shrugged. "It is the same as anything else in the world I suppose."
"Well," Andy breathed looking the massive construction over once more, "the thought of having a quarter million bloodthirsty orks descending on them seems to have focused everyone's thoughts wonderfully."
A'rion chuckled and nodded his agreement. "Who would have thought that someone would have found a practical use for orks aside from target practice?" He grinned.
"What can I say?" Andy shrugged cheerfully. "I always seem to find the bright side of any problem."
Andy guided the horse that he had rode into the valley up to where the Royal Pavilion was erected. Much to Andy's surprise, the Royal Court had not departed yet, and they were waiting for his arrival with important news.
"Your Highness." Duke Harmon said with a bow. "I am glad to see you again."
"Probably not as glad as I am to be here Your Grace." Andy said with a grin. "I'm beginning to develop an intense dislike of horses." He finished with a wince as he climbed out of the saddle.
An amused chuckle rumbled through many of the gathered nobles. Andy noticed that they were looking a great deal more confident than they had been the last time he had seen them. "I thought the Council and most of the Court would have departed for Anthulsula by now." Andy said casually.
Harmon nodded amiably. "That was indeed the plan Your Highness. In fact, the departure had been scheduled for yesterday, but the situation has changed." He grinned as he looked at Andy. "The King has recovered to a degree, and has been interacting with us. He has refused to make any decisions until he has spoken to you though." Harmon casually glanced back at some of the members of the Court as he said the last. "His Majesty has said that he would see you immediately after your arrival."
"Well, by all means, let us not keep the King waiting." Andy said cheerfully.
As they moved into the pavilion, Harmon murmured softly to him. "Baroness duPre' has been trying to get his Majesty to establish a Regent while he is disposed, stating that you lacked the background and more importantly the blood to have the command." He shrugged. "She knows that you aren't Prince Ethan of course, but she has no idea of your true heritage. Neither does his Majesty for that matter."
Andy grunted in response and began to consider the Baroness again. She had the air of perfect innocence about her that practically screamed she was scheming her little soul out. Andy was afraid that she was not the type to take hints that she should lay off. That would require him to be more... Firm. But for now Andy would focus on the King.
Kail looked shockingly weak. He was sitting up in a bed that had been filled with cushions in order to prop the King up comfortably. He was pale and drawn, looking like he hadn't eaten or slept in weeks. His eyes had a haunted look to them, as if the ghosts of his children and unborn grandson lived within them.
"I'm glad to see you." The King croaked hoarsely, his voice cracking as he spoke. "My guards have been keeping me up to date about what you have been up to young man." He shook his head weakly. "Between what they have told me, and Duke Harmon's reports I'm surprised you aren't sitting on my throne."
Andy shrugged. "You are the King, Your Majesty. I feel I made that point quite clear to the Court and your Council when they got together to decide on a Regent."
Kail looked sharply from him to Harmon and back again. "I must say, I was leery of his Grace's apparent change of heart. I began to wonder if you hadn't merely recruited him into your own schemes."
Harmon sighed quietly. "I deserve that my King." He said. "But you should know also that it was not the throne that I opposed, it was your policies."
" 'Nothing personal' eh?" The King coughed. "You had completely pure motives did you?"
Harmon shrugged calmly. "I had my own ambitions, I will admit. But I do still stand by my beliefs that the nobles should have more of a say over the management of the Kingdom. Perhaps it is not as critical now as before, with His Highness' introduction of mass producing Bloodstone for communication." He nodded courteously to Andy. "You were so far from the Northern provinces, there was no way you could effectively govern them, but now" again the shrug "With the new devices that might no longer be true. We shall have to see."
"So you deny attempting to usurp my authority?" The King asked quietly.
"You might recall, I didn't ask for all this." Andy put in. "I got roped into playing a part for you, and then you fell apart and left me with my ass swinging in the breeze." He shook his head. "I was only going to fend this guy off " he jerked his thumb at Harmon "until you got better. But then the orks started to move and you still hadn't pulled your head out of your ass so I had to take steps just to keep my own hide intact." He snorted. "You are more than welcome to the nightmare Your Majesty."
Kail began to cough furiously. Andy was about to summon his healer when he realized the King was actually laughing!
"Oh! By the Shaper how I wish you were my own son." He wheezed. "I knew you had a spine in there somewhere boy!" He chuckle-coughed. "You would make an excellent King!"
"He comes from good stock Your Majesty." Harmon said quietly.
"What is that supposed to mean?" The King asked.
"While you were... indisposed, I discovered young Andy's heritage." Harmon responded calmly. "His full name is Andy Nickles Your Majesty. He is the direct descendant of the eldest son of James-Tyler Nickles the First." The Duke grinned as he looked at the King. "In fact he is not only the descendant of the elder son of the King, he is closer in generation. That son is his great-grandfather."
"But, how could that possibly be? It's been a thousand years since the time of James-Tyler." Kail asked.
Andy shrugged. "Maybe time moves differently here than it does in my world."
"Show him your credentials Your Highness." Harmon suggested.
"My what?" Andy asked puzzled. "Oh! My license." Andy reached into one of the pockets that lined his rich clothing and pulled out his wallet. After a moment of fumbling around he pulled out the shiny plastic ID. "Here you go Your Majesty." He said. "By the way, I'm sorry about being rude before, but I'm just a little stressed at the moment." He put in as the King reached out to take the license.
"Believe me lad, I know exactly what you mean." The King murmured as he looked over the amazing card that the youth had handed him. It was thick and stiff as boiled leather, but still slightly flexible. Light, and with a shine to it that rivaled polished stone. He noticed as he shifted it in the light it showed revealed three rows of what appeared to be miniature official seals of some sort superimposed over most of the document. "How is this vanishing image done? What is it made of?" He asked in wonder.
It's called 'plastic' Your Majesty. It's made from oil." Andy responded. "The little images are holographic images layered on top of the license to help prevent counterfeiting them."
Kail began to actually read the card finally. There he saw a picture of the young Andy, as well as his full name, what appeared to be his street address, and several series of numbers. "I have so many questions." He shook his head. "You must live in a world of wonders lad." He said wistfully.
"Yeah, the wonder is that there still is a world at all." Andy sighed and sat down uninvited. He waved Harmon off as he hissed at him for such a violation of protocol.
"It's all right Your Grace." Kail said. "You have a seat too." He turned to Andy. "What do you mean lad?" He asked gently.
"It's not the wonderful place you seem to think it is." Andy said sadly. "In my world we are killing our environment, leveling forests, exterminating whole species, and dumping poisons all over the place. The air is full of noxious fumes in some places, and there are cities where a permanent cloud of smoke hangs over it." He sighed. "Oh, some people try to fix things, and the government pretends to care, even when there are people in power who take money from the business' that don't care if they kill our future, just so they can make money today."
He snorted at the look of shocked disbelief on the face of the King, and the look of hard contempt on Harmon's.
"We have ways to kill each other that you can't possibly imagine. Weapons that could sear the world clean of life in a day. We can make diseases that are lethal beyond belief, and we have weapons that can unleash an explosion more intense than the heart of the sun itself." He shook his head. "And the bastard part of it is, that it's so damn easy. For every wonder we create, five horrors spring from it." He stopped and took a breath.
"And then there's how we are socially." He looked at Harmon. "Many of the things you have said are very similar to people in my world." He said quietly. "In my world, men kept other men as slaves, people are looked down upon because of where they came from, or what color their skin is. People like me are not able to marry those we love, hell in some places we are thrown into prison or executed just for being who we are."
"It sounds like a world that Kerlack would create." Came a voice from the corner.
Harmon shot to his feet and looked for the source of the statement.
A short, youngish looking individual sat on a chest in the corner. He had smooth, pale skin. Small horns poked out of his curly brown hair, the same brown hair that covered his goat-like legs down to their little cloven feet and surrounded his rather large and prominently erect penis. A wide, impish grin split his face.
Andy goggled at the sight. "What are you?" He asked, blushing as his eyes wandered over the visitor's exposed body.
"Is this not what you expected a Satyr to look like?" The visitor asked looking down at himself. "I'm usually quite good at judging such things about people." He grinned again. "We can play if you like."
Kail cleared his throat to gain the Satyr's attention. "I know little about your people, but enough to know you would not be here without reason."
The Satyr shrugged. "Well, I'm doing a favor for Destreda. He asked me to tell you that the Gods acknowledge the young Sorcerer here as the instrument of the Cycle, as was intended." He winked broadly. "I'm sure you've figured that out by now, but those Gods just want to make sure you mortals don't get some wild hair and ignore the blindingly obvious."
"What did you mean about my world?" Andy asked.
"You sure you don't want to play?" The Satyr asked, his form shifting until he looked exactly like E'rin, completely naked of course.
Andy's blush intensified. "Um no thank you, I'm kind of spoken for."
The Satyr sighed. "The elf wouldn't play with me either." He pouted. "You mortals have the strangest ideas." He sighed again. "Oh well. Your world, Kerlack, do the math." He shrugged. "I've done my little favor, so since none of you want to play, I'm going to go find my own entertainment."
Before anyone could protest, the Satyr had vanished.
Later that evening, Andy met with his inner circle in the King's Pavilion. Discussion mostly revolved around how to handle Andy's identity.
"Mostly, I am in favor of explaining the whole situation." Dera'Lione said with a slight shrug. "By now, the entire army loves him, Ethan or not."
Harmon shook his head with mock sorrow. "And you wondered why father left all the estates to me." He raised his chin to look down his nose at his brother as the Lord Commander snorted at him. "It's hardly my fault that you turned into a brute rather than a suave politician such as myself."
"Sorry brother mine, I could never quite get talking out of both sides of my face down pat." Dera'Lione said with a grin.
"How dare you suggest that I have been anything other than forthright and open in my dealings." Harmon said loftily. "Having said that, I think we can put a romantic twist into this that will appeal to the people without making us all look like outright liars."
"What would you suggest Your Grace?" A'rion asked. "Surely we shouldn't lie."
"No, I agree, we do need to be honest here so as not to give duPre' something to tear up to make us look bad." He paused to consider. "Let's look at the facts." He began to mark his points with raised fingers as he ran down his list. "First, Andy is a sorcerer. Second, he is almost a perfect twin of Prince Ethan. Third, he is of the royal line. Fourth, he has a legitimate claim to the throne, especially if endorsed by Your Majesty and named Heir. Fourth, Andy has proven himself as a leader and innovator. Finally, we have word that he is chosen by the divine to complete the Cycle. Which means that he MUST be named Heir."
Kail and many of the others (Except Andy!) nodded at the Duke's points. "Agreed Your Grace." Earlon said. "But what would you suggest?"
Harmon grinned. "Well, it's fairly well known that Ter'Zhull has been attempting to disrupt the Cycle. Having said that, we simple begin by saying that we chose to have Andy pose as the Prince Ethan to protect him from the orks."
"But how would that be protecting him from the orks?" Sir Lance asked quietly. "It didn't protect Ethan."
For a moment, Kail's face darkened, but then he spoke up. "It is BECAUSE of Ethan's death that it would work. Ter'Zhull would already know that he has removed the 'real' prince and would have no interest in the fake."
"Lady Annea's assassination proves that." A'rion said. "Yes, it makes sense. Go on Your Grace."
"We go on to say that even though we allowed many of the higher officials know that he wasn't Ethan, we have chosen until now to conceal the fact that he has always been the rightful Heir. It's not even a lie, but we can state it this way to imply that we always knew this, but have only recently chosen to reveal it." He shrugged. "Prince E'rin's, um connection, to Andy would be further proof of his legitimacy." Again the Duke shrugged. "Of course duPre' and many of the hard liners in the opposition will not buy it, but they won't be able to do anything about it because it's essentially the truth."
"I think we should wait until after the battle before we spring this on all the troops though." General Anastona said as Marshal O'meneri nodded next to him in agreement.
"No." Kail said softly. "We need to settle this out now." He sighed. "Send a message to King C'ominar requesting that Prince E'rin be dispatched immediately here to perform the wedding to the Heir." He closed his eyes. "Suggest also that the King and Queen join him, as well. Both ceremonies can be performed here and the Cycle may be made complete. This will be the greatest morale booster the Host can receive." He leaned back, attempting to get more comfortable. "We will make the announcements tomorrow, afterwards I will officially designate Andy as my Regent. Make preparations for my return to Anthulsula after the wedding." Having given his orders, the King rose and made his way to his bed.
The Horde tracked the retreating human force as it moved. The results of the hunt were... unexpected.
"They have not gone to the fortress of Hereon Great One." Kotar said. "They have moved into a valley that contains a small settlement. My scouts have reported that they have been fortifying the pass."
Ter'Zhull considered that for a moment. His burning passion to crush the humans had cooled on the journey, especially once he had reached word that his mother had made it out of El'Analon, and made her way back to the Therin Waste. From what he knew of the geography, he had the humans pretty well bottled up, but if they had been fortifying it stood to reason they had been preparing this position from the beginning.
"It's a trap." He said with a grunt.
Kotar nodded. "So it would seem. They could not have done so much without some start, which means they always intended to lead the Host here." The War-chief squatted down and began to draw a rough map of the area on the ground. "We are here." He pointed to a spot on the southern part of the continent where the Hurin Mountains began to play out. "Humans are on the other side of this pass here." His finger moved north along where the mountains would be. "Hereon is here, in this pass which leads into the Human lands. It is possible that they prepared this fallback position because they felt they could not have reached Heron before we were on them. In the open field we would have crushed them."
"Were it not for that damn rift, we would have caught them before they reached Hereon." Ter'Zhull snarled. He took a deep breath, letting go of his anger; it would not help him to let his judgment be clouded. "What would you recommend Kotar?" He continued after a moment.
"We should kill these humans here." He said simply. "If we bypass them and move on Hereon, they will be free to come up our rear. Between the fortress and this force, they have a good chance of killing us." He shrugged. "If we leave enough warriors to bottle them up here, we will not have enough to take Hereon. We can't lay siege to the place because the city squats across the pass completely and they can be supplied freely from the inland cities."
"I agree." Ter'Zhull snarled. "We don't have much other choice." He stopped to consider. "I think, however, that we should wait a bit." Kotar cocked his head inquisitively, which caused Ter'Zhull to grin savagely. "I think it's time to bring up reinforcements."
As comprehension dawned, Kotar's smile matched his leader's own.
"This is something that I have always wanted to see."
The Elf King listened to the message glumly. He contacted Lord A'rion, and had been briefed on King Kail's plan. There was no choice now, of course, but to fulfill his obligations, regardless of how much he might not want to.
"You have to learn to let him go sometime belshatha." J'el said to him as she kissed him gently. "He must fulfill his destiny, for if he does not then only his fate awaits him."
Nodding, he walked out of the room they shared, and made his way to E'rin's apartments.
He stopped before the ceremonial guards who stood in the open before his door. Though he couldn't perceive anyone, C'ominar well knew that at least one Bladedancer was watching. They always watched over their own, and J'el had similar special protections.
"I would speak with my son." The King said to the guards. "Please inform him that I am here."
One of the guards bowed, and knocked on the door before entering. He returned a moment later, opening both doors. "His Highness asks that you wait in the sitting room until he has finished dressing." The guard bowed. "His Highness was taking a bath." He offered by way of explanation.
C'ominar nodded gracefully, and indicated that the guard should leave. The King made his way into his son's sitting room and looked around. E'rin was never one for servants, so C'ominar poured himself a drink from the displayed bottles and sat down to wait.
It took only a few minutes before E'rin walked into the room. His hair was still damp and slightly mussed up from his bath and he was still rubbing a small towel over wet spots on his arms.
For just a moment, C'ominar was taken back to when E'rin was a small child. The young boy had always loved the water and could often be found wherever there was a pool large enough to immerse his body in. He would often come home, looking just as he did now, smiling and laughing, happy to be young. The moment of nostalgia brought a wistful smile to the King's face.
Looking now, however, C'ominar could see clearly for the first time.
"You are not my little boy anymore." He said softly. "You have become a man in your own right, and I did not wish to give up the little boy you had been." He sighed and looked into his son's eyes.
"I refused to choose you because of my fear, and I denied your love for the Sorcerer because of my fear. My fear of losing my little boy." Tears began to slowly roll down the King's cheeks as he held his hands out to E'rin. "But you are still my son, and I will always love you. If you believe nothing else, please believe that."
Wary at first, E'rin felt himself relax at these words, and silently he knelt down and took his father in an embrace.
"My son, I am so very proud of you." The King said kissing the crown of E'rin's head. "You have done so much, and through it all, you have shown me beyond any doubt that you are a man that any father can be proud of." He pushed E'rin back to look into his eyes. "And soon, you will be a married man." He said with a wistful smile.
E'rin blinked back his tears as he felt his heart swell. "Thank you father."
C'ominar smiled. "Thank King Kail." He said. "He has recovered, and is planning to reveal the truth of your love's identity to the people and name him the official Heir." He shook his head ruefully. "He has proposed that we come to where the Host is encamped to perform both weddings there, and complete the Cycle immediately." He shrugged. "I agreed, we leave within the hour."
The sound of fluttering wings filled the chamber as the Warmaster approached his liege.
"How may I serve the High One?" Asked the hard-bitten warrior.
"The Wanderer." Came the soft, fluting voice filled with wonder. "The Wanderer came to me, in this very room Sora. He bore a message from the High One. We are to end our hidden exile and give aid to those who fight to drive back the Dark One."
Sora looked up at his lord. His keen eyes made out the look of religious ecstasy on the Nestlord's face despite the shadows that covered him. "How so my Lord? Are we no longer in danger from the Pteros swarm?"
"They are of no moment Sora. The Wander has told me where we may find allies who have held out against the Dark One for millennia. We must go to their aid as true children of the High One and you will lead the way."
The Warmaster considered this carefully. The Nestlord was not given to spouts of religious zeal, after all he was not of the Religious Caste, so unless he was insane, his words must be obeyed. He sighed internally and nodded. "By the will of the High One my Lord. I will gather a strike force and go forth." He rose and bowed. "The Wanderer did tell you WHERE we would find these allies didn't he?"
The Nestlord blinked. "Well... no actually he didn't now that you mention it."
Sora sighed. The Wanderer was a bit of a flighty god and it seemed his presence had rubbed some of that off onto the Nestlord. "I hope that we are not supposed to just follow the winds of chance and hope that the Wanderer hasn't forgotten about us." He said.
The Nestlord considered for a minute. "We are approaching a previously unexplored continent, perhaps this is where we will find those we seek. Take your strike force out and recon the coast line."
Content to at least have some direction, the Warlord nodded. "Am I free to act as I see fit with the force my Lord?"
"Of course, you are the head of the Warrior Caste, it is your prerogative to make military judgments. " The Nestlord smiled. "Just try not to start a war with the wrong people."
The Weddings were hardly the state affairs that normally would be arranged for a royal match. Unfortunately for all those caterers, protocol specialists and social butterflies that made such gatherings a central part of their life's work, the wedding of the heirs was a terribly informal affair. It was for the best really.
For political reasons, Harmon had suggested taking care of the revelation of Andy's true identity, and place as royal Heir and Regent, before the elves arrived. That way duPre' and other members of the opposition could not make reasonable claims that it was an elf influenced plot. The Duke, somewhat ashamed of his former political allies, admitted that it was a tactic that he had discussed with them before.
The reaction of the Host was somewhat anticlimactic. Most people it seemed were so thrilled to have a Sorcerer of Haven leading them, not to mention a close descendant of James-Tyler Nickles, that the deception that had been fed to them seemed almost inconsequential. It also served to boost the morale of the Host and answered questions in the minds of many who had wondered at the ideas that had come forth from that most unlikely of sources. Resistance to Andy's innovations vanished overnight, for no one was willing to question the word of a Sorcerer.
Baroness duPre' and her associates seemed less than pleased about the Host's reaction.
The arrival of the Elvin Court (those that weren't already with the Host anyway) passed with minimal fanfare as the people were far to busy getting ready for the coming assault; they had no time for formal greetings.
The arrangements for the weddings were cut short by the intervention of A'rion and Earlon, who pointed out that if the various negotiators didn't get things sorted out in fairly short order, they were going to be hip-deep in orks. That didn't make them any friends in either Court, but it had the desired effect.
Both ceremonies would be performed together. A priestess of Te'ema and a cleric of The Divine, a church that honored ALL Gods, gave their blessings jointly.
To E'rin and Andy it seemed like a blurred melange of sounds and images. Only one thing was clear to them of the entire day, and it would be burned into their souls for all time: The priestess and cleric, speaking in unison sealed them together with a single phrase: "Be ye bound together, now and forever, not even death to split you asunder."
With the uttering of that phrase, the power of the Gods flowed into them, and bound their souls together as one. Each could feel the beating of the other's heart, the flow of his emotions, and the wholeness that comes from knowing that no matter what, they would never lose the other.
The marriage complete, the couple was led to their pavilion, and left to consummate their bond in peace. All bemused, they walked in, hand in hand, both still having a hard time believing that it had finally happened.
"I love you Erin." Andy said quietly, leaning over to start a slow, lingering kiss with his new husband.
E'rin was just beginning to start fulfilling all the fantasies he'd had about Andy, when his sensitive ears picked up the soft sound of weeping coming from a side chamber.
Andy felt E'rin's emotions shift somehow. Their link was too new for him to know exactly what it was he sensed, but he knew that something had changed. "What is it?"
E'rin didn't speak, but moved with quiet grace to pull back the heavy curtain that acted as a door, and looked inside the side chamber.
There, lying on the floor was a young boy curled into a ball on the floor, weeping with such total despair that it touched the gentle elf's heart deeply. He knelt down next to the boy and reached out to rub his shoulder and began a soft, wordless croon to offer what comfort he could. He barely heard Andy come up behind him. It seemed that they were already beginning to take on many of the other's traits.
"Nathan?" Came Andy's puzzled voice. "What are you doing here? What's wrong?"
"Is this boy not one of your servants Belshatha?" E'rin asked.
As Andy nodded in agreement, a fresh burst of weeping wracked the young boy's body.
"I-I'm so-ory Your H-Highness." Nathan said, desperately wiping the tears that continued to stream from his eyes. "I will l-leave you alone." He moved to get up.
"No, please tell me what is wrong, Nathan is it?" He looked to Andy for confirmation as he gently restrained Nathan from leaving.
Nathan took a moment to calm his weeping, took a deep shuddering breath and looked E'rin in the eye. "He married you." He said quietly. "And I'm in love with him."
Sorom, God of Destiny and Fate, listened to the whispered reports of the two Xiathra who had finished guiding their charge.
The Xiathra, small and imperceptible symbiotic creatures, inhabited many beings all around the world. Each was directed to either guide their subject to his Destiny, or lead him to his Fate depending on the nature of the Xiathra in question. They were always assigned in mated pairs to mortals at key moments in their lives and acted as subtle inner voices prompting the mortal to choose his path rather than simply allow the inertia of the situation carry him on. One would prompt him to his Destiny, while the other tempted him towards his Fate.
Of course, no one on the mortal plane knew of the Xiathra, if they did it would so fundamentally corrupt the thinking of mortals it would invalidate everything that Sorom was trying so desperately to accomplish. Most believed that Sorom possessed infallible foresight and that the God simply laid out your Destiny and Fate before you and you were inexorably drawn to one or the other.
Mortals, obviously, had no real concept of the truth of their own free will. Left to their own devices, many would simply accept the status quo, and they would never aspire to anything, never dream of a better and brighter future, or never fear a darker Fate.
This Andy fascinated Sorom. He was so unlike most mortals in that he was driven by the passions in his own soul. The Xiathra had been unable to join with him, just as they had been unable to join with the two sorcerers from a thousand years before. It was a curious phenomenon, for it should be impossible.
The Xiathra in the young boy Nathan left their charge and reported to their creator as soon as the their charge made his decision and moved himself solidly on his path.
All that remained was to see what would unfold.
Baroness duPre slowly smiled in satisfaction as she watched Andy emerge from his pavilion, into the chill night air.
Nathan had informed her how he intended to interrupt the Princes' consummation of their union by 'confessing' to having successfully seduced the sorcerer while his elvin fiancee was liberating his home. It appealed both to the Baroness' sense of cruelty and fit with the way she knew that perverts such as they behaved. Fidelity was not in their nature after all, so it would be completely believable.
By the look of pain and rage on Andy's face, it seemed that Nathan had succeeded brilliantly. So furious was his expression, that many of the soldiers in the area quickly quieted down, fearful they had disturbed their prince.
She was sure that the Princes' advisors would convince them to maintain a pubic facade, in order to maintain the unity of the Host. In private however, those two would be torn with feelings of pain and betrayal and would never be one. God would be pleased with her indeed and his pleasure was something that she desired more than anything.
Kerlack was very generous to those who pleased him.
It has taken me a LONG time to get this one out.
Mostly it was because I had intended to play out the upcoming battle in this chapter, but there was just too much detail in it and I have still not worked it out completely. So I figured it was better cut it out and move it into the next chapter before I was assaulted by a mob of people wielding pitchforks and torches. A reader leveled just such a threat against me in fact.
I hope you enjoyed what I did get finished, and I hope that everyone had a good Holiday Season.
Corey.