Sons of Ironstorm: Book 5 - Griffon's War

The Long Shadow of Old Promises

Larengor frowned as yet another group of hooded elves stepped through the portal from Elvenfast. As had the group that passed through just a few turns of the small glass before, they were in Var Ethisdil gray, heavily cloaked against the weather, their faces hidden in the shadows cast by their voluminous hoods.

<<Something troubles you, master,>> General Ashengar, who Larengor had asked to join him on a wall top overlooking the handful of gates Lawrence Ironstorm had opened for troop movements, said from where he stood a pace off the older elf's right shoulder.

<<You could say that, General,>> the Master of the Voice replied before looking over his shoulder at the Ben'havid High Commander. <<I don't recall asking the council to send so many clerics through!>>

A heavy cloak wrapped around his usual chainmail and tunic, Ashengar took a half a step forward to peer down at the group of gray-cloaked elves exiting the open portal.

<<It does seem to be more than required for the elvish troops currently stationed here,>> he admitted after a moment's worth of observation. <<Who guides the council in your absence, my lord?>>

<<Lady Cirella,>> was the curt answer.

<<A normally reserved master of the order, with strong support for the Aeshin'laur and its war efforts against the Return,>> Ashengar noted out loud, and in doing so, addressed Larengor's own silent question.

The Ka'thesk, which had nearly torn elvendom apart in a vicious civil war that lasted over a decade, was started by a cleric. Gerumenum, a rising star in the order, became corrupted by his lust for power and triggered a conflict that left hundreds of thousands dead, many more homeless and without family, and entire kingdoms in flames in the Torvus'brel.

His infamy had forever marred the order's trustworthiness in the eyes of the rest of their people. And Larengor had spent the greater part of that decade working to get it back.

Cirella had been a part of those efforts, invited onto the council after its decimation at the hands of Ka'thesk tjor'riin, and had quickly proven herself to be a dependable ally in an uncertain time. She wouldn't have sent additional priests to the fortress if Larengor hadn't directly asked her to. If she hadn't sent them, then somebody not reporting to the council's master, had. And if that meant they were now facing a new uprising in their ranks, influenced by demonic saboteurs as had so many others, he needed to crush it, here and now.

Then the group finished passing through and the gate fell silent. But not before a final priest stepped through. One with a bearing and gait that Larengor recognized.

His expression tight, the master of the Council pointed at the last elf through.

<<Bring me that elf!>>

****

The priest sitting across the plain table from Larengor glanced up at the two Ben'havid paladin that bracketed him. But he didn't need to look over his shoulder to feel the presence of two Wielders of Weapons of Power, Lawrence Ironstorm standing with hands clasped behind his back, and Patrik leaning against the door into the small chamber Larengor decided to use. Nor did he need to look around at the semi-circle of elven kings, including the High King himself, King Ciradaan, as they stood in various postures between the humans and the table, each one of them glaring at him.

<<I, uh, I'm not sure what this is all about, Master Larengor,>> he began to stammer before one of the paladin reached out with a gauntleted hand and cuffed him across the back of his balding head, the blow abruptly cutting him off.