Stephen Lawhead - The Realms Thereunder

“No,” K?yle said once, with finality.

“Anyhow, where were we with the negotiations?” Fiall continued.

“The price is the price,” K?yle said firmly. “There is no changing it.”

“Come now, it is your patriotic duty to supply us with charcoal for the fires needed to draw silver and gold from rock. It’s what keeps many families fed and clothed.”

“If ever I saw a grain of this gold or silver, then my consideration may be different. As I don’t share in the fortunes of those who use what I make, I must set the price that seems fair to me.”

“Do you want to own a part of a smelter’s works? There is one I’m looking for a partner in,” the moneylender asked with a raised eyebrow. Daniel had seen this expression many times before and had no doubt that even though the offer was in earnest, he’d find some way to cheat and ruin whoever took him up on it. K?yle simply continued to gaze stoically at the minister.

“No matter, then,” Agrid Fiall replied. He took a deep breath, as if regretting what he was about to say and wanting to put it off as long as possible. “I was trying to spare you some amount of shame, you see; the royal budget only extends to two barrels of your stock.”

“That is no shame of mine.”

“It means that we will have to requisition another nine.”

K?yle’s face was impassive. “That is far less than fair,” he said eventually.

“There is no need to tell me that,” Fiall said in a plaintive tone. “It is how things are, and I feel as badly put upon as you do, no doubt. That is all I can offer, unless . . . unless you want to sell me the human. Go on, please . . .”

K?yle did not respond, so the moneylender gave instruction over his shoulder. “Pay him.”

“Are you taking the charcoal now?” Daniel asked Fiall.

Fiall had been about to turn away but paused for a final quizzical look at Daniel. Then, with a humorous chuckle, Agrid Fiall left, completely ignoring the question. However, an elf, apparently a clerk of some sort, stepped forward with a bag of money and while counting out silver coins said to K?yle, “Delivery will be taken tomorrow morning. We want these five, and those five over there; no others. I shall mark them for you.”

That was the whole of the interaction with the man that Daniel was supposed to kill, and he reflected on it as he stayed close to Awin Kaayn, drawing his new sky-blue cloak tighter around his shoulders-another piece of equipment from Reizger Lokkich- and struggling to keep Kaayn’s enormous guitar on his back. He had offered to carry it, to make it look like he had a purpose there, but now he wished he hadn’t. It was more strain in a stressful situation. Still, he supposed it helped to hide his nervousness. He was now suspecting that elves were far more perceptive and observant than most humans were-they seemed able to actually see emotions. Not just what was on your face, but perhaps what was in your heart as well. And fast-above all else, in Daniel’s experience, elves were fast.

Things hadn’t gone so well with K?yle and Pettyl. He told them that he’d made another deal with Lokkich, which he wasn’t able to tell them about, but it meant that they wouldn’t have to pay anything and that he’d most likely be leaving tonight.

Pettyl had started to ask questions, which Daniel wasn’t about to answer.

K?yle, who must have had some idea, said to him, “Daniel, don’t do this new deal. Stay with us for the next few days and take the surer, more natural route home.”

“No, I have to get back soon. I’ve heard my friend’s voice calling me-twice now. I just feel-I need to get back as soon as possible, I know it. She needs me.”

“It may not be in the plan that you reach her so soon.”

“Plan? What plan?”

“The plan of the universe. The natural order that instructs all things, that guides the hearts of all living things.”

“I shouldn’t even be here, though,” Daniel said resentfully. “If the universe had a plan to protect every living thing, then I’d have stayed where I belonged in order to protect Freya!”

“We aren’t to know the plan,” Pettyl broke in. “It is not for you to judge where you most belong.”

“What does it matter what I do, anyway, if it’s such a great plan?”

“Don’t think of it as a plan-think of it as all of the created worlds working in an ideal state. Nothing is set, but things have a best course. Within this we may stay on our course, or travel a different one. If we go this other way, then we have made things disordered, and it may be difficult to correct after that. More, it may knock others out of alignment.”

“But as far as I can tell,” Daniel argued, “that sort of thing is happening all the time-at least, it is where I come from. And hearing here about the death of the true king and the exiling of the elves who followed him, as well as Agrid Fiall taking advantage of you and everyone else like he does-it seems to me like the universe needs a little helping hand to correct things. And if I can, then why shouldn’t I? Is it the ‘ideal state’ that good people suffer?”

Daniel felt his blood warm and skin tingle. Things were falling into place now; it was getting clearer. “I was brought to this point by the universe-by God. This has happened to me before. Here I am, further away from my ‘ideal state’ than I’ve ever been. I’ve been put in an almost impossible situation, once again, and I know that I have the ability to win through and set things right. If there is a universal plan, then there’s no way I’m not a part of it. I’m probably the only one in this world who can fix things and the universe knows it-that’s why it brought me here. First I’ll fix this problem and then I’ll go back and fix my own.”

“Sometimes a correction can swing out of control and cause as many problems as the problem it was meant to fix.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Seeing as I’m the only one fixing things, I’m the only one who has to worry about that.”

K?yle left at that point, walking out of the tent with a sad face. Pettyl seemed as if she wanted to say more but didn’t. Instead, she asked if Daniel was leaving now and he said he probably would. She gave him some food and he thanked her for everything-for looking after him, helping with his Elfish, feeding him, and more besides. He didn’t want the last thing between them to be an argument. Then he left and said goodbye to K?yle, who was standing at the entrance to the tent. He didn’t say anything at first, he just shook Daniel’s hand. Even after all this time, Daniel still found him hard to read. The collier didn’t seem angry, though. He smiled as he gave Daniel a parting gift-a large, golden leaf.

“This is a leaf,” he explained, “from the oldest tree that I know of in the forest. It has stood in the centre of the forest since before anyone started to count the years. It is very old, and yet every spring it produces new leaves. This is something of this place that you can take with you. It shouldn’t weigh you down much at all, and it will point you in the right direction if ever you return.”

Daniel had thanked him and put the leaf in an old schoolbook that he still carried around in his backpack.

The feast hall was an enormous building with wide, semicircular arches bowing overhead. From the rafters hung more of the brightly coloured banners and pendants with entrancing designs. There were two rows of benches running nearly the full length of the hall, which stopped before a long table that was raised on a platform overlooking the enormous room. This was the high table where the Elf Prince, his consort, and the most important members of his court were to sit. It is where Agrid Fiall would sit.

Daniel surreptitiously made his way to the back of the hall, behind the high table, and pushed past one of the tapestries. There were two large wooden doors that were standing wide open. Directly in front of them was the kitchen tent where cooks and servers were busily preparing the feast. The smell was unlike anything he’d ever smelt before-it was the rich, sweet smell of caramelizing glazes on top of roasting meat, of spiced breads and pastries, of freshly tapped casks of ale and wine, and a dozen more familiar and unfamiliar.