Michael Mathias - The Wizard and the Warlord

The Elmkin were concerned for the princess’s safety, while the Oakhearts thought that the experience she was gaining exploring the realm would most likely help her in the future.

“Some of life's lessons are impossible to teach,” they said. “Life must be lived, experiences experienced.”

The Birchbloods and the smaller families, the Cherrylorns and Teakflows, all agreed with the Queen Mother, that a party must be sent to fetch Telgra at once. The Bramblers, as well as the soldiers and sentinels, held no opinion. As usual, they only stood at the ready, armed with ironwood blades and bows that could launch an arrow most of a mile. With a word, they would be off to retrieve their princess.

Some of the old and powerful members of the Hardwood Coalition voiced the idea that if Princess Telgra lost her memory, then it was clear that the humans and the new king were filling her head with nonsense. After all, it was this new High King who had personally killed a dozen innocent trees in a rage not too long ago.

Much had been whispered from ear to keen ear before the gathering. Positions were being declared, sides taken. Now, waiting for the Queen Mother to decide on what should be done, they all stood silent and waiting, save for one. One elf dared to step forward and speak; it was Dieter Willowbrow.

“Queen Mother,” said Dieter nervously as he rose from his bow. “I only ask that you take a moment to read my brother’s journal. Read the words Vaegon wrote about Hyden Skyler and Mikahl Collum. I ask this because Hyden Hawk is who they say the princess travels with, and Mikahl is the one they now call High King.” Dieter took a knee and extended Vaegon’s journal toward his queen. One of the sentinels strode forth and took the volume.

“This tome won’t keep the future of elven kind safe, young Dieter,” the Queen Mother said softly. “What is it you think these words will convey to me?”

Dieter swallowed hard. What he was about to say would go against the Hardwood Coalition theories. Friction with the Hardwoods was never a wise thing to cause. “It has been suggested that King Mikahl might use Princess Telgra’s loss of memory to the advantage of man. The person Vaegon describes in those pages is far too honorable for that.”

“Is that all?” the Queen Mother asked sharply.

“No, my queen.” Dieter’s voice gained a little surety as he spoke. “Once you’ve read what my brother had to say about Hyden Skyler, then I’m confident your heart will feel lighter for it. My princess travels with this man. She is not in as much danger as any of you fear.”

The Queen Mother nodded to the sentinel and accepted the journal from him. The court stood in respectful silence as she flipped through the pages, reading them one by one, taking in the words Vaegon had written throughout his strange journey with Hyden Hawk and young Mikahl. Several members of the Hardwood Coalition exchanged looks of concern. They represented the majority of the elven kind, at least the majority of the older elves living here in the Evermore forest.

When the Queen Mother was done reading, she handed the text back to the sentinel and gave Dieter a warm smile full of understanding and love.

Vaegon’s words eased her concern, if only slightly. Still, worry for Telgra was paramount, but there was no doubt in her heart that Hyden Skyler and the High King of men were not typical humans.

“Is there anyone else who would speak to me before I seek the solitude of the Arborhaven?” she asked.

One of the Hardwoods stepped forth. Dieter was receiving his brother’s journal back from the sentinel and the older elf casually shouldered him out from in front of the queen. Etiquette dictated that Dieter say nothing. The elder of the Redwoods had been alive more than four hundred years. Dieter was barely sixty. All he could do was hold his tongue, swallow his pride, and move away.

“Queen Mother,” Revan Redwood said, with only the slightest of bows. Due to his age he could get away with that sort of thing. “The king of men, however honorable he may be, has already murdered in the forest. He is cocky, hot tempered, and is only as powerful as the sword he carries.” The old elf frowned and shrugged. “Words written by an elf serving a life debt to a kingdom man are only words.”

“What would you have me do then, Revan?” the Queen Mother asked. “Should we go to war with the kingdom folk? We are the ones who gave Ironspike its power, Revan. And don’t forget that Hyden Skyler is not a kingdom man. Vaegon Willowbrow was serving a life debt to a man of the giants’ realm, not the kingdoms’. This is about my daughter, the princess, and the future of our race. She is your princess, too. This isn’t about your personal feelings toward the humans. How would battle help bring Telgra back from the land of the giants? That is where she has traveled.”

She was growing angrier with every word she spoke. Her mate had died in the demon attack on the island. The loss, and the stress of worrying about her daughter, was pushing her to the edge.

“My daughter is seeking the Leif Repline to restore her memory. Who can fault her for that? She… she… she… doesn’t even remember who she is. She… she…” With that, the Queen Mother rose and stormed off, brushing away the supporting hands of her sentinels.

“The Queen Mother will retire to the Arborhaven,” the announcer spoke over the murmurs. “When she has reached a decision on the matter, we will reconvene.”

A moment later, as the gathered elves were dispersing back into the forest, a statement was overheard by some. It came from the Hardwoods gathered at the clearing’s edge.

“This wouldn’t be happening if a Hardwood sat on the throne.”

Several gasps followed, and more than one grunt of agreement.

“Ouch!” Dostin yelped as Hyden used tiny rays of magical energy to trim away the dead flesh from around the monk’s earholes. “That hurts, Hyden Hawk,” he whined. The sadness he felt at not being recognized by Lady Telgra was palpable. Corva was speechless. Even knowing she had lost her memory didn’t prepare him for the total lack of recognition. The words of Lady Trella hadn’t fully described the situation. Corva figured that Telgra might not have remembered the storm, or the horrible death of her father. He never expected her to draw a blank for her entire life.

Telgra sat at the fire not far from Dostin, studying him curiously. He had asked her a hundred questions about the time they shared at the fiery tree grove. The only thing she remembered was the dream she’d had about the red priest, the demons, and Phen.

Dostin wanted desperately to rekindle their friendship. It was clear that he was disturbed. She answered him politely and understood completely how she could have liked him so much. He was simple, but thoroughly sincere.

“How did you find the statue man?” Dostin asked.

“He’s called Marble Boy,” Hyden said with a chuckle.

“His name is Phen,” Telgra corrected both of them. Spike let out a little growl from her lap.

“He and Master Oarly found me in the marshes.” Telgra shifted herself as she answered him.

“The dwarf smells like Father Shaw’s goats,” Dostin observed, causing a laugh from all who heard.

Telgra had gone over the story half a dozen times, trying to ease the frightened monk’s confusion. Knowing that he had nearly frozen to death, lost an ear and parts of his fingers because he was concerned for her, was unnerving. She was endeared to him, though, and she handled his questions with an enormous amount of patience.

It was getting late in the afternoon and the others were chopping and wrapping the meat from a big cow elk that the wolves had killed. They had returned earlier, all wiggling and excited, with bloody muscles and a few limps amongst them. Borg had taken Jicks, Krey, and three horses over the ridge to haul it back. Those who weren’t involved in the bloody work — Phen, Oarly and Corva — were on the far side of the fire discussing the storm that had washed them into the marsh.