Mark Anthony - Kindred Spirits

“But what is it?” Flint asked. What could one do for a friend that would be so distasteful?

The Speaker softly shook his head. “I’m afraid you will hear soon enough. But tell me, Flint, that later you’ll have the time to drink a cup of wine with an old elf.”

The Speaker smiled once more as Flint assented, then walked toward the rostrum in the center of the chamber. The Speaker ascended the podium, and the courtiers ended their conversations to turn their attention toward him. Where was Tanis? Flint wondered.

Porthios stood to his father’s left, near Lord Xenoth and Litanas, seemingly trying to appear as regal as the Speaker, but looking to Flint more like a puffed-up young rooster. Porthios’s younger brother, Gilthanas, stood to the right of the rostrum with the rest of the ceremonial guards. The guards wore black leather jerkins, glinting with silver filigree entwined in the symbol of the Sun and the Tree. It was the same symbol that had adorned the flag that Kith-Kanan had borne with him when he had first set foot within the forest of Qualinesti.

Gilthanas had joined the guard not half a year ago. He was still little more than a boy, only slightly older than Laur-ana, but Flint knew that Porthios had argued long and hard with the captain of the guard to gain the position for Gilthanas. Although Gilthanas did his best to imitate the rigid stance of the other guards, holding his sword before him in the traditional salute, the weapon seemed too heavy for his slight frame. Flint shook his head. He had to give the boy credit for trying so hard to be strong, but Flint wasn’t exactly sure what Gilthanas seemed to be trying to prove.

Just as the Speaker raised his hands in greeting to the entire court, signaling the beginning of the proceedings, Flint was jostled from behind. He spun around, eyes flashing, to give a piece of his mind to the clumsy idiot who hadn’t the sense to watch where he was going.

“Tanis!” he whispered, relieved that his friend was finally here. Tanis was breathing hard, and a sheen of sweat slicked his skin. “What in Reorx’s name are you doing traipsing in here so late?” he whispered hotly.

“Hush, Flint,” Tanis said softly, gesturing toward the rostrum where the Speaker was beginning his address.

“I thank you all for coming here today,” the Speaker was saying to the nobles gathered about the rostrum. “I have great news to share with you, news which I hope will give you all cause for joy.

“First, however, I must confess to an ulterior motive in inviting you all here.” The Speaker smiled. “You know, of course, that a rapacious beast has been ravaging the countryside around Qualinost. Several people have been lost to the creature, and farmers on the outskirts of the area have reported that increasing numbers of livestock have been missing. My advisers tell me this beast, a tylor, no doubt has built a lair somewhere near one of the trails from Solace. Troops who have been sent out to hunt for the monster have been unable to locate it, but they have seen signs of the beast and believe they have pinned down the general area where the creature…”-he paused- “feeds.”

The Speaker’s features softened as he looked out over the group of courtiers.

“Thus, I am asking for volunteers to join together and seek out the tylor. Because the creature has some magical abilities, Mage Miral has graciously agreed to go along.” Miral, standing by a pillar across from Flint, inclined his head, crossed his arms, and slid them far into his sleeves. “And Lord Tyresian has accepted the position as leader of the hunt.” Tyresian’s tight smile looked more like a grimace than a grin.

“I am hoping that the most skilled of you will consent to accompany this volunteer troop to the area where we believe the tylor’s lair is located. Are there volunteers?”

Porthios was the first to speak. “I will go, of course.”

The Speaker hesitated as he beheld his elder son. Lord Xenoth, silver robe swishing in his agitation, interjected, “Are you sure it is wise for the heir apparent to be exposed to such danger, Speaker?” Porthios tensed and flushed deeply, and sympathy shone on the Speaker’s face.

“My son is about to go through his Kentommen, Lord Xenoth. I believe it would be the gravest of mistakes to refuse him the right to participate with the other men.”

Porthios eased his stance and flashed a look of barely disguised thankfulness at his father and an equally strong glare at the adviser.

“Then I will go, too. To protect him,” Xenoth rejoined, pulling his frail body into a vengeful stance. Tyresian laughed, joined by several courtiers, and turned away.

Now it was Miral’s turn to interrupt. “With all respect, Speaker,” the mage said, unfolding his arms from his sleeves, “I think the hunt should be restricted to the young and the strong, not the elderly and infirm.”

Flint felt a wave of irritation. As much as he could live without the crotchety, stranger-hating Lord Xenoth, it was unlike the mage to be so cruel in public-especially toward a long-time member of court. Xenoth opened his mouth to protest, but the Speaker silenced his adviser with an imperious look and a quietly spoken, “I will not turn down volunteers, Miral.”

Xenoth stared daggers at the mage, who looked impassively back.

Selena poked Ulthen in the side, and that lord volunteered nervously. That prompted Litanas to speak up as well. Soon a half-dozen other courtiers added their names to the list. Suddenly, Hint felt Tanis stir at his side. “And I, Speaker,” he called.

‘Tanis!” protested Laurana.

“Tanis?” echoed Flint, more quietly.

“What better way to try out my new sword and arrowheads?” Tanis whispered to his friend.

Lord Tyresian, coldness emanating from him like a chill from the marble walls, glowered at the half-elf. “It’s bad enough that I must have a useless old man in my troop, but a half-elf?”

That was enough. “And a dwarf, as well, Lord Tyresian,” Flint chimed in.

What happened then might have been funny under other circumstances. The elves between Flint and Tyresian parted and drew back, leaving an unbroken stripe of unoccupied floor between them. Elf lord and dwarf engaged in a brief stare-down, until Solostaran’s resonant voice drew all eyes back to him. “I accept your offers, Master Fireforge, Tanis.” When Tyresian opened his mouth to argue, the Speaker said simply, “I am Speaker still, Lord Tyresian.”

“What do you suppose that meant?” Selena asked Ulthen in a stage whisper.

Tyresian was quick to back down. “Very well, Speaker. You know best, of course.”

When no other voices were forthcoming, Tyresian told the volunteers to meet at the palace stable one hour after dawn the next day. Then he turned and faced the Speaker, and the rest of the courtiers followed his lead.

It appeared that the moment had arrived for the major announcement.

“All of you know, of course, my daughter, Lauralantha-lasa Kanan,” Solostaran said. “And you know, as well, that the time when she will no longer be a child is not so far off. It is right then, that her future should be made clear, to her and to all of us, and so I’ve chosen this day to make that so.”

He held out his hand, and Laurana stepped to his side, her green dress whispering as she drifted across the floor, her hair shimmering like molten gold in the sunlight as she came to a halt before the rostrum. She curtsied gracefully to her father, and then to the courtiers. Laurana gazed out over the crowd and located the half-elf, a questioning look in her green eyes. Flint felt Tanis shrug beside him, and he wondered what was afoot.

Turning slightly so he could see Tanis’s face, Flint noticed Tanis watching Laurana intently. He looked troubled and fidgeted with some small object in one of his hands, but Flint couldn’t see exactly what it was. Laurana appeared as much in the dark about what exactly was going on as the rest of the courtiers did. Tyresian alone seemed confident; Xenoth’s wrinkled features looked unrelievedly disgruntled.