Wizard's Spawn

The Challenge

They were all staring at him with open mouths.

Dafydd knew exactly why the King was staring, but what had he done to warrant that reaction from the Elders? Surely the King hadn't told them about what they had done last night? It seemed highly unlikely, given that he was supposed to be seeking a wife!

He cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Sire, Elders, perhaps you can help me. My name is Dafydd Wren. I've been on a Wizard's Quest now for a week and the call has drawn me here. Do you know of any magical creature I should be hunting?"

The Elders exchanged looks. "You are the Challenger," stated the elf, as if it were a proven fact. "The magic called you here."

"A week ago, you say?" queried Corwin. He nodded to himself. "That would have been when you dismissed Jez," he told the King.

"The magic has taken matters into its own hands, so to speak," murmured Aniess.

Dafydd was confused. "I'm sorry, I don't understand. What exactly is the Challenger? Who am I supposed to Challenge?"

"Why, the King, of course! You have to challenge the King for the throne of Aerlith."

"It is a battle of magic," explained the elf. "The man with the strongest magic will win."

"And the winner takes the throne."

King Ardiel stood frozen in place while the conversation flowed around him like a swarm of bees buzzing in the air. He was waiting with every breath for the wizard to expose him as a lover of men. What need was there for a battle of magic when he could take the throne with a few words?

The Elders were still explaining the situation to the newcomer. "We must have a King who can sire children. The magic depends on it."

For a moment the King's eyes met Dafydd's across the room.

Ardiel felt like breaking into hysterical laughter as the truth dawned on him. From his experience last night, he guessed that the wizard would have exactly the same problems with that as he did himself.

"I can't challenge the King! I'm a wizard. I wouldn't know how to be king, even if I wanted to," Dafydd was protesting.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," the elf told him. "The magic has chosen you."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Sire," Dafydd addressed the King directly, his tone respectful. "I think we should talk about this, in private."

"Yes," replied Ardiel coolly.

Ignoring the Elders' protests, Dafydd followed the King into his private chambers and watched while he locked the door.