Sons of Ironstorm - Book 1: Griffon's Rise

Chapter 25: Home of the High King

The waiting elf smiled and slowly uncrossed his arms.

<<Ciradaan,>> he said, acknowledging the white haired elf with a slight bow of his head, <<king of Aquila. You've come a long way north, my old enemy, to fail so close to your goal.>>

<<Perhaps,>> Ciradaan admitted, struggling to keep a frown of dismay and frustration off his face. <<You and your rangers suggest you know something of my goal. Yet no operative, skilled as they may be, can read the mind of a king. None truly know why I am here.>>

A handsome wood elf standing easily as tall as Ciradaan, Fenoran was as tanned as the ranger who had captured the Aquilan king. He too wore his hair in a warrior's da'godei, a neatly trimmed goatee decorating his face, as one had the ranger's. But where the ranger's hair was dark and his face smooth with youth, Fenoran's hair and beard were liberally salted with gray, tiny crow's feet at the corner of his eyes telling of his age. Just as the calluses on his hands spoke of his experience in war and combat. The Lusinoran king's smile grew slightly at Ciradaan's tart words.

<<No, you are quite right there, Ciradaan,>> he noted wryly. <<My spies didn't read your mind. However, you're not the only king to receive an invitation to Elvenfast from the Var Ethisdil.>>

As Ciradaan's eyes narrowed thoughtfully at Fenoran's blunt revelation, the Lusinoran king pulled a tightly furled parchment from his belt.

<<I believe you'll recognize both the message and the seal on this missive,>> he said as he handed the scroll to Ciradaan who, after a brief, considering hesitation, took it to look at the seal by the light of the fire. He frowned when he recognized it as the same that held the scrolls he had received from his son via the griffon commander, Aenlinar. He didn't have to crack the scroll open to read the words on the creamy page within. He had them already committed to memory.

<<So you've been invited to Elvenfast,>> he thoughtfully confirmed, handing the scroll back to Fenoran. <<As have all the kings south of the Ya'tual, I'm guessing, by well-entrenched Var Ethisdil clerics. And I've little doubt the invitation has been extended to all those north, as well. So why aren't you half way there by now, Fenoran? You've had at least a tenday's lead on us.>>

Looking at the scroll before slipping it back into his belt, Fenoran returned his eyes to the Aquilan king, his faint smile still playing over his lips.

<<You and I both know, Ciradaan, that things often aren't as simple as they appear,>> he pointed out, pursing his lips in thought. <<I saw no advantage in rushing to a meeting with a group that's kept itself in the shadows for thousands of cycles, conveniently revealing themselves after Cephanon and Caeba fight off a demonic attack.>> At seeing Ciradaan's eyebrow rise at his second revelation, the wiry Wolf clan king nodded in acknowledgment.

<<Aye, I knew of it, by the testimony of one of my personal guard. When I learned of your embassy to the Seer's fortress, I swiftly sent one of my own, feeling dire events unfolding around me. Unlike your company, mine was mostly destroyed by demons chasing a fleeing Cephanon, leaving only a handful alive.>>

<<My son told me about the encounter.>> Ciradaan nodded before letting a quiet sigh whistle out his nostrils. <<So Bruticus brought you word of the Seer's abrupt change of venue.>>

<<And the strange message he directed my officer to give to your son. It was shortly after I received word from Bruticus via messenger bird from one of our outposts that my Var Ethisdil cleric revealed himself to my court and presented me with the invitation.>> He turned slightly to look in the direction of the obelisks marking the elftrail's beginning.