Paul Thompson: The Qualinesti

“Guards of the Sun,” he said in a low, controlled voice, “I have summoned you here today with a heavy heart. A problem that has plagued our country for some years has grown so much worse that I am forced to use you, my brave warriors, to suppress it. I have consulted with the senators of the Thalas-Enthia and the priests of our gods, and they have agreed with my chosen course!”

Kith-Kanan paused, closing his eyes and sighing. The day was beginning to cool slightly, and a breeze wafted over the tired leader’s face. “I am sending you out to destroy the slave traders who infest the confluence of the rivers that guard our city,” he finished, his voice rising.

The guards broke out in subdued murmurs of surprise. Every resident of Qualinost knew that the Speaker had been trying to suppress slavery in his domain. The long Kinslayer War had, as one of its saddest consequences, created a large population of refugees, vagabonds, and lawless rovers. These were preyed upon by slavers, who sold them into bondage in Ergoth and Silvanesti. Since Qualinesti was a largely unsettled area between these two slave-holding countries, it was inevitable that the slavers would operate in Kith-Kanan’s land. Slavers who drove their human and elven “goods” to market through Qualinesti territory frequently captured Qualinesti citizens as they went. Slavery was one of the principal evils Kith-Kanan and his followers had wanted to leave behind in Silvanesti, but the pernicious practice had insinuated itself into the new country. It was time for the Speaker of the Sun to put an end to it.

“Lord Anakardain will lead a column of a thousand guards up the eastern river to the confluence. Lord Ambrodel will command a second column of seven hundred and fifty mounted warriors, who will sweep the western branch and drive the slavers into Lord Anakardain’s hands. As much as possible, I want these people taken alive for public trial. I doubt many of them will have the stomach to fight anyway, but I don’t want them dealt with summarily. Is that clear?”

Most of the guards were former Wildrunners who had fought with Kith-Kanan against the Ergothians; they were the sons and daughters of Kagonesti elves who had been held in slavery in Silvanost for centuries. Slavers could expect little kindness from them.

Kith-Kanan stood back as Lord Anakardain began dividing the troops into the two forces, with the remaining two hundred fifty warriors to remain behind in the city. General Lord Kemian Ambrodel, son of Kith-Kanan’s castellan, stood beside his sovereign.

“If you wish, sire, I can have Lady Verhanna assigned to the city guard,” he said confidentially.

“No, no. She is a warrior the same as any other,” Kith-Kanan said. “She would never want to be shown favoritism simply because she is my daughter.”

Even in the crowd of two thousand troops, he could easily pick out Verhanna. Taller by almost a head than most of the Qualinesti warriors, her silver helm bore the red plume of an officer. A thick braid of light brown hair hung down her back to her waist. She was quite mature for a half-human. Never married, Verhanna was dedicated to her father and to the guards. Kith-Kanan was proud of his daughter’s warrior skills, but some small fatherly portion of him wished to see her wedded and a mother before he died.

“I would prefer, however, that she go with you rather than Anakardain. I think she will be safer with the mounted troops,” Kith-Kanan told Lord Ambrodel.

The handsome, fair-haired Silvanesti elf nodded gravely. “As you command, sire.”

Lord Anakardain called his young subordinate to his side. Kith-Kanan watched Lord Ambrodel hurry away, and he was once more struck by the strong resemblance the young general bore to his elderly father.

As the guards broke up into their two units, the Speaker reentered Suzine Tower, trailed by several members of the Thalas-Enthia. With a notable lack of protocol, Kith-Kanan went to a table set beside the curved wall and poured himself a large cup of potent nectar.

The senators ringed round him. Clovanos, who was of an old, noble Silvanesti clan, said, “Great One, this act will cause great dismay to the Speaker of the Stars.”

Kith-Kanan set down his cup. “My brother must deal with his own conscience,” he said flatly. “I will not tolerate slavery in my realm.”

Senator Clovanos waved a dismissive hand. “It is a minor problem, Great Speaker,” he said.

“Minor? The buying and selling of people as if they were chickens or glass beads? Do you honestly consider that a minor problem, my lord?”

Senator Xixis, who was half Kagonesti, put in, “We only fear retribution by the Speaker of the Stars or the Emperor of Ergoth if we mistreat those slavers who happen to be their subjects. Our country is still very new, Highness. If we were attacked by one or both of those countries, Qualinesti would not survive.”

“I think you gravely underestimate our strength,” said a human senator, Malvic Pathfinder, “and overestimate the concern of two monarchs for some of the worst scum to walk this world.”

“There are deeper roots to this business than you know,” Clovanos said darkly. “Even within Qualinost, there are those who profit by this trade in flesh.”

Kith-Kanan snapped around, his robes swirling about his feet. “Who would dare,” he demanded, “in defiance of my edicts?”

Clovanos paled before the Speaker’s sudden wrath. He backed up a step and stammered, “G-Great Majesty, one hears things in taverns, in temples. Shadow talk. Dark things without substance.”

Xixis and Irthenie, a Kagonesti senator who still proudly wore the face paint popular with her wilder cousins, stepped between Kith-Kanan and the chastened Clovanos. Irthenie, whose intelligence and strong antislavery stance made her a confidant of the Speaker, declared, “Clovanos speaks the truth, Majesty. There are places in the city where money changes hands for influence and for slaves sold in other lands.”

Kith-Kanan released the gold clasp from his long hair and combed through the pale strands with his fingers. “It never ends, does it?” he said tiredly. “I try to give the people a new life, and all the old vices come back to haunt us.”

His gloomy observation hung in the air like dark smoke. Embarrassed, Clovanos and Xixis were the first to leave. Malvic followed, after offering words of support for the Speaker’s stand. The half-human Senator Harplen, who seldom spoke, left with Malvic. Only Irthenie remained.

With much tramping and shouting, the two units of the Guards of the Sun dispersed. Kith-Kanan watched from the window as his warriors streamed over the bridges to the tower keeps and down into the city. He looked for, but didn’t see, Verhanna.

“My daughter is going out with the guard,” he said, his back to the Kagonesti woman. “This will be her first taste of conflict.”

“I doubt that,” said Irthenie flatly. “No one close to you can be unfamiliar with conflict, Kith. What I don’t understand is why you don’t send your son along, too. He could use some hard lessons, that boy.”

Kith-Kanan rolled the brass cup back and forth in his hands, warming the nectar within. “Ulvian has gone off with his friends again. I don’t know where. Probably drinking himself sick, or gambling his shirt on a roll of the bones.” The Speaker’s tone was bitter. A frown pulled at the corners of Kith-Kanan’s mouth. He set his cup aside. “Ullie has never been the same since Suzine died. He was very close to his mother.”

“Give him to me for six months and I’ll straighten him out!”

Kith-Kanan had to smile at her declaration. Irthenie had four sons, all of whom were vigorous, opinionated, and successful. If Ulvian were younger, he might take Irthenie up on her offer. “My good friend,” he said instead, taking her dark, age-worn hands in his, “of all the problems that face me today, Ulvian is not the worst.”