David Farland - The Wyrmling Horde

It was hours later when the council finally broke up.

Erringale led the way from the darkened council chamber, with the emir, Daylan Hammer, the Wizard Sisel, and the rest of the Bright Ones behind. The Glories had departed.

Talon could see from the smile upon Daylan s face that the council had gone well. Inside the great hall, Erringale climbed a short landing beside the river, and began to speak in his strange tongue, the words filling Talon s mind.

"The White Council has spoken," Erringale said. "The Bright Ones and Glories of our world have all been consulted, and a consensus has been reached."

Talon wondered at those words. Certainly these few Bright Ones in the sanctuary couldn t be "all" of the Bright Ones in the world.

So Talon could only imagine that Erringale had spoken to their minds, as he spoke to Talon now.

"The people of Luciare are free to remain here for three days, to rest yourselves, recover from your injuries, and refresh your spirits. But at the end of those three days, you must return to your world."

At that, the people around Talon gave a cheer. Erringale raised his hands for silence and in a few moments, the people quieted. "Daylan Hammer has petitioned our help. He hopes to free your prince, Areth Sul Urstone, from the wyrmling horde, along with our Torch-bearer.

"We also wish to see them freed.

"But our people cannot lightly interfere in the affairs of the shadow worlds. Therefore, we offer aid in the form of council: we urge you to do harm to no man, be he human or wyrmling. To do violence to another is to injure your own soul.

"Still, we recognize that it is not always possible to remain free from another s blood."

New thoughts struck Talon as Erringale spoke, strange notions that she had never considered. It was as if a great argument had been raging for eons among the Bright Ones, and now a thousand thoughts came swirling into her head.

The war between the Bright Ones and Despair was an endless one, and was not a war between creatures of flesh. Rather, Talon recognized that the life of the spirit was more important to Erringale and his people than the life of the flesh. And certain acts did not just injure the spirit, they could wound it to death.

A man who steals from another, Erringale warned, a man who does injury to the truth, or who does violence to another, wounds his own soul in the process, and weakens his spirit. We warn you against such things. It is only as you remain true to your conscience that your spirit can grow and mature.

Talon was baffled by that. She considered Erringale s argument, and then just as quickly set it aside, neither wholly rejecting it nor accepting it.

She had been trained to fight wyrmlings from birth. They had murdered millions of her people over the past few centuries.

Of course she would kill them in battle. She could see no dishonor in that.

"Though we cannot offer our service in battle," Erringale said softly, "we wish to send emissaries to your world. I wish to come. I would commune with the True Tree, if you will let me."

Talon understood more than the words that were spoken. She realized that Erringale would not visit her world unless he had an invitation from its people.

As one, the folk of Luciare said, "Come."

At that, the emir of Dalharristan got up to speak. "For far too long, my friend Areth Sul Urstone has languished in the dungeons of Rugassa. He was once like a brother to me, and already I have told you of his character. I pray that he is still alive, though long have I feared for him. Now it is time to set him free. I ask for help as a friend, not as your leader. High King Urstone was your leader, and Areth is his heir. There is none worthier to lead us, none braver or wiser, none more compassionate or just.

"Few of you here knew him as I did. Few of you can call him friend. But I need you to look into your hearts and see if you can serve him now.

"I have sworn to the Glories that I will free Areth Sul Urstone and Fallion Orden, and that I will do it with as little violence as I can.

"But I am only one man. I need the strength and speed of many if I am to accomplish this task. I would take endowments from the others if I could-from the small folk of the world, who will soon be caught up in our war. But we stand in desperate need now. I cannot go searching afar.

"Among the Bright Ones there was once a race of lawmen called the Ael. They were given endowments by their people, strengthened by them. The Bright Ones have agreed to grant endowments once again, the first in many long years.

"Who among you can find the daring within yourselves to come with me? Who among you can offer up an endowment, that you might free your king?"

There was dead silence in the great hall. All that could be heard was the tinkling of water, the call of cave crickets. As a whole, the people of Luciare did not understand much about the endowment system yet. But Talon knew it well.

If you gave up your wit, you gave it up so long as both you and your lord should live. The chances were good that you would die an idiot, unable to feed yourself, unable to recognize your best friend or child or even the woman that you loved.

If you gave up strength, no matter how mighty you were, you became so enfeebled that you might not be able to hobble across a room or draw enough breath to speak. Many were the men who died after giving strength, for their hearts soon wore out. To give an endowment was a curse.

Talon was standing beside Alun. Suddenly Connor whispered "Now!" and gave Alun a shove, so that he went lurching forward.

Alun cleared his throat. He did not have to feign nervousness, for it came to his tongue naturally. "I–I," he stammered. "I would like to offer my dogs…"

And he then fumbled, as if he could say no more.

Smart boy, Talon realized. He could not refuse to offer the dogs to the Madocs. But by feigning nervousness, he d made half an offer.

Let the emir have the dogs strength and speed. Let the emir be empowered. And Alun could only hope that Connor and Drewish did not exact too much revenge.

A brief silence followed as the emir considered the offer. Seeing that Alun had fumbled his words, Connor stepped forward.

"I would join you in this quest," Connor said. "And it is with heartfelt thanks that I accept Alun s generous offer."

The emir gave Connor a piercing look. Certainly he suspected Connor s motives. "I believe," he said dryly, "that Alun offered his dogs to me."

At that moment, a man stepped forward, a wealthy merchant of forty years whose finery was perhaps unsurpassed in all of the warrior clans. His name was Thull-turock. In Caer Luciare he had been a wealthy merchant, but Talon recognized him as a man who had lived a double life. Upon Fallion s world, he had been a powerful facilitator, a man who made his living by crafting forcibles, choosing potential Dedicates for his lords and then transferring endowments.

In a matter of two days, Thull-turock had risen to become one of the most influential men among the clans.

He strode forward, with glittering eyes like a snake s, and shouted into the emir s face. "And how do you propose to regain this prince of yours without taking endowments? For surely you will not receive them from my hand."

"I…" The emir stood, confused. Thull-turock had long been a friend, and had dined with the emir at the lords table many a night, reveling in the emir s presence, jesting with him. Now Thull-turock had turned against him.

"I will not grant you endowments," Thull-turock repeated. "Once I called you friend, but I know you too well!"

Talon was stunned. She thought, The Madocs seem to have corrupted more men than I thought possible.

"What?" Tuul Ra demanded of Thull-turock. "Which of my good deeds do you decry?"