Song of the Ascendant

12. Realignment

Nineteenth of Harbinger

It had been a bad morning for King Farhad Orinor. He had spent the previous night with the wife of a nobleman who was visiting Rignar's Hold in the north, and she had quite gladly graced his bed in her husband's absence. The trouble had started when Farhad was awoken by his steward, who announced that Marshal Berias had a confidential message for him. Farhad gave a quiet curse, glanced at the naked woman sleeping in his bed, then allowed his servants to get him dressed before following the steward to his throne room. He had now been waiting ten minutes for Berias to show his face, and his anger was growing with each passing moment. Berias was the only man in the Kingdom who could make him wait and not feel his wrath. Such was the power of fear, even within the king himself.

It had been fifteen minutes when the steward entered again, only to announce that Berias had requested a guard attachment be present. That raised Farhad's concern until the steward assured him that he had chosen the six guards himself. Farhad allowed it, growing even more puzzled. It was another few minutes before Berias finally entered with Alihad, and three robed figures following them. All five bowed, and Berias looked up at Farhad with a gleam in his eye. The robed figures stood straight, then threw back their hoods. Farhad stared in shock at the three elves standing before him. The one on the left looked young, built like a soldier, and with the confidence of one who had stared death in the face and walked away. The middle elf was older, wiser looking, with the air of royalty. The third was stunning in her beauty, and Farhad missed the look of disgust in her eyes as he studied her.

"My King," Berias said, "I present to you King Silari and Generals Echtalon and Faelin of the Aliri Empire."

"It is an honour, King Farhad," Silari said, bowing again. His generals stayed ramrod straight.

"I wish I could say the same," Farhad growled. "But the blood of my countrymen stains the hands of the elves before me."

"And the blood of my kin stains your own," Silari snapped, anger filling his eyes. "Such is the price of war, Farhad, and neither of us can tell the other who started this one. The fact of the matter is, we have both been deceived."

"My lords, if I may," Alihad said, stepping forward. "We have all spoken with Belkai Androva. The generals here were both involved in bringing her home from the desert – and General Echtalon has faced her in battle. We know the reality of the situation that we find ourselves in."

"We are aware of the deception that began this war," Silari said, shooting a glance at Echtalon, who stiffened. "The fact is, we were all manipulated and used for Ashelath's gain. It ends now.

"I am prepared to offer an end to hostilities effective immediately. I believe that the danger we face is too great to waste our young on this rivalry. The orders have already been sent for our forces to take up a defensive posture."

Shock was written over Alihad's face, but he managed to ask, "With what conditions?"

Silari kept his eyes on the king as he answered. "We want free passage for our people to and from Narandir. We have been separated from our southern kin for over a millennium. We desire, if not reunification, then at least a new beginning."

Farhad hesitated. He trusted Belkai; he didn't trust Silari, nor even the Narandir elves. He was a Svaletan to the core. The conflict with the Aliri has gone on too long to forget overnight. A reunited elven kingdom to the north and south went against every instinct. But what choice did he have?

He waved a hand and said, "It shall be granted. We will have peace. But all conflicts end with sacrifice from the one who first shed blood."

Silari's eyes narrowed. "What is it you require of us?"