Paul Thompson - Firstborn

“You are right. I would have thought you were trying to intimidate me,” Sithel said genially. He glanced at Tamanier Ambrodel. At the signal, the courtier handed the speaker a small rolled slip of vellum. Although Sithel made a fist around the scroll, he didn’t yet open it.

The prince studied his father, mother, and Tamanier. What were they up to?

No one had told him what was going to happen—and yet, something was about to happen, that was plain.

“Where, my lady, is your seneschal?” Sithel asked nonchalantly.

“Ulvissen? Seeing to the loading of my baggage. Why?” The question seemed to put Teralind on the defensive.

“Would you summon him? I wish to speak with the man.”

In short order Ulvissen himself entered from the courtyard where the Ergothians’ wagons were being loaded. He was sweating heavily in his thick wool and leather outfit. In turn he bowed grandly to Teralind and Sithel.

“You wished to speak to me, Highness?” he asked the speaker awkwardly.

“Yes. Since this is a day of revelations, I see no reason why you shouldn’t be part of them.” Sithel opened his hand, displaying the slip of vellum. “I have here a report prepared by Prince Kith-Kanan before his departure to the West. In it, he describes a half-human bandit he met in the wilderness, Voltorno by name. Many months ago, he encountered this Voltorno in the company of a band of humans. He states that you were one of these men.”

Ulvissen looked from the small scroll to the speaker’s face, but betrayed no guilt. “No offense intended, great speaker, but your son is mistaken. I have never been to Silvanesti prior to coming as my lady’s seneschal,” he said evenly.

“Mistakes are possible, even by Kith-Kanan,” Sithel said, closing his fingers around the parchment again. “Which is why I had my scribes search the archives of the Temple of Kiri Jolith. There are kept accounts of all wars and battles fought since the dawn of time. And whose name should be found as high admiral of the Ergothian fleet, but one Guldur Ul Vissen? A name strangely similar to your own, wouldn’t you agree? Since your princess saw fit to come here in disguise, it does not tax belief to think you may have also.” The speaker clasped his hands behind his back. “What have you to say, Master Ulvissen?”

Ulvissen regarded the Speaker of the Stars with utter coolness. “Your Highness is mistaken,” he said firmly. “A similarity of names proves nothing. Vissen is a common name in Ergoth.”

“Do you agree, Lady?”

Teralind flinched. “Yes. What is the point? I’ve told you why I pretended to be someone else. But my seneschal is who he claims to be.”

Sithel tucked the parchment into his sash. “As an imperial princess, please go with my best wishes and every hope of safety, but do not bring your ‘seneschal’ to Silvanost again. Do you understand?” The harsh tone was unusual for the speaker. “Those who despoil my country and kill my subjects are not welcome in my city or my house. Please let this be known when you arrive in Daltigoth, Lady.”

With that, the speaker turned on his heel and walked away. Nirakina followed. Tamanier bowed and did likewise. Sithas, wide-eyed, went last.

In the rotunda outside the humans’ quarters, Sithel turned to his wife with a broad smile on his face. He shook a fist at the ceiling.

“At last!” he said fiercely. “I’ve given that contentious woman her own back!” He turned to Tamanier. “You have been of great service to me. You shall be rewarded.”

Tamanier blinked and bowed. “I seek only to serve Your Highness and Lady Nirakina,” he said.

“So you shall.” Sithel pondered for a moment, stroking his pointed chin. “I wish to appoint you chamberlain of the court. The management of daily court life shall fall to you. You will be known as Lord Ambrodel, and your clan shall have the right to inherit the title.” The speaker folded his arms and asked, “What say you to that, Lord Ambrodel?”

Tamanier gaped like a startled child. At last he collected himself and dropped to one knee. “I thank you, Highness,” he said humbly. “I will serve you to the end of my days!”

“I think my days will end before yours,” Sithel said wryly. “But you can serve my son after.”

Laughing, the royal family and their new chamberlain left the rotunda. Sithas put a hand on Tamanier Ambrodel’s arm.

“A word, my new lord,” Sithas said in a confidential whisper, pulling him aside.

“Yes?” said Tamanier discreetly.

“Let us go to a more private location.”

They left the palace. Outside, the air was sweet with flowers and the marble walks were covered with blossoms fallen from the trees. Sithas said nothing until they were some distance from any observers.

“You know someone in the palace has been giving information to the Ergothians,” Sithas said conspiratorially, looking eastward to the fine houses of the nobility. “I would appreciate it if you would help me find out who the traitor is.”

“I’ll do what I can, noble prince,” said Tamanier earnestly.

“Good. As chamberlain, you’ll have access to every part of the palace. I want you to use your authority to root out the spy and reveal him to me.” Sithas paused and looked straight at Tamanier. “But be wise. I don’t want the wrong person accused. And I don’t want the culprit alerted.”

“Do you have any suspects?” asked Tamanier. “Officially, no. Personally, yes,” Sithas said grimly. “I suspect my own wife, Lady Hermathya.”

“Your wife!” Tamanier was so shocked he could hardly believe what he had heard. “Surely, noble prince, your wife loves you. She would not betray you to the humans!”

Sithas rubbed his hands slowly together. “I only have suspicions. All I can say about Hermathya’s motives is that she so loves attention and the cheers of the people, that she spends huge amounts of money to keep their favor. I do not give her coins to scatter in the streets, yet she never seems to lack for money.”

Shocked, yet pitying the prince at the same time, Tamanier asked, “Do you suspect anyone else?”

“Yes, and perhaps he is the stronger candidate. His name is Vedvedsica. He is a sorcerer and a priest, he claims, of Gilean the Gray Voyager. My father sometimes uses his clairvoyant skills, but Vedvedsica is a greedy conniver who would do anything for gold or power.”

“The emperor of Ergoth has plenty of gold,” Tamanier said sagely.

They talked for several minutes more. Tamanier vowed to detect the traitor, and Sithas listened approvingly, nodded, then walked away. The newly created chamberlain was left in the east garden, surrounded by fallen petals and singing birds.

The farmers were apprehensive when they first saw the column of armed warriors ride by, but when they realized who the Wildrunners were, they came to greet these newcomers. Along the way, Kith-Kanan sent troopers to help one farmer to fell a tree, another to free an ox from a boggy ditch, and a third to mend a fence. Word of these kindnesses spread ahead of the Wildrunners’ march and increased the number of enthusiastic elves—Silvanesti and Kagonesti—who came out to greet Kith-Kanan and his troops.

For the next few days, the way of the march was lined with grateful farmers and their families, bearing gifts of new nectar, smoked meat, and fruit. Wreaths of flowers were hung around the Wildrunners’ necks. Kith-Kanan’s mount Kijo was draped with a garland of white roses. At one point, the prince ordered his pipers to play a lively tune, and the Wildrunners passed through the countryside in a swirl of music, flowers, and smiling settlers. It was more like a festival than a military expedition. Some of the more veteran warriors were astonished.