Chapter 3A

Harlen had never attended an event like this in his life. There were at least two hundreds of people, all their eyes were upon him and his wives. It was as if he could feel the weight of their appraising eyes upon him. He was unaware that for the time being, and for a few days hence, he and his were to be the center of all the social attention in Rondall.

The low murmur stayed at a discreet, tasteful level, not enough to be considered a noisy gathering, but there were hushed words being exchanged. It was the first volley of a constant barrage of gossip that now began. The women's clothes were being analyzed, as Hyandai's ears quickly ascertained, as was Harlen's muscular build. Even the color of Hyandai's eyes was being discussed among those who knew something of elves.

This was the first visual impression of the trio who formed the embassy from Morrovale. While that nation was just one of many in the Western Realms, it was one of the more powerful amongst them, and one of the most influential, as well. Many smaller nations of the Realms imitated Morrovale's policies and standards. The duke was a relative unknown among the others of Feldare's national leaders, and his chosen ambassadors even less so.

That, Harlen decided, was what this party was for. He was being scouted out. No one missed this gathering, as they would miss their chance to discover some critical information about him, perhaps, even, something no one else had noticed. In the rarified airs the huntsman now found himself, intelligence - information of your fellows - was a commodity, and, right now, he was an unknown quantity. Harlen vowed silently to keep as much of that equation blank as he could.

"Watch yourself, beloved," whispered Wendy as they reached the ballroom floor. "I've seen this look on powerful folks' faces before. They are taking your measure."

Harlen let the tiniest of lopsided grins form on his lips. "With these tights, I've no doubt they are," he retorted.

The crowd was mystified by the enigmatic smiles both women donned at the moment that they reached the floor. Their simple elven-style gowns were commented upon, favorably, though it required an 'elfin' figure to wear them properly, commented many women who were more 'full figured' than Harlen's wives.

Immediately, great debate began as to the heredity of Wendy. Was she Westron or Ghantian? Some knowledge of her past was already circulating in the social circles. Her father owned properties in Vilders, linking the ambassador to the very city that was hosting this event. However, it was said that her grandfather on her mother's side owned properties in Morrovale, as well, marking her as a potential heiress to two land's dynasties. Details were sketchy at best, though. Another persistent rumor was that she was a highly placed member of some sort of warrior guild in Ghant, and had slain dangerous monsters in her past, which intrigued many of the lords and ladies present.

Much more was known of Hyandai, as a figure of almost legendary proportions in Rondall and the rest of the Isles. She was host to the military knowledge of Verus, a national hero of two nations, both here and his homeland of Abia. Her being an elf naturally led to other speculation amongst the crowd. Most humans of the Isles knew well of fey, as most knew elves personally, or at least had met many and spoken at length with some. Her fey seemed shrouded in mystery, which, in turn, led to guessing as to which of the 'dark fey' she might possess that would require it being secreted.

Harlen though, was an enigma to most of these folk. Word had come of the Battle of Embalis, and the part played by the Rangers of Morrovale. A secretive and mysterious element, none claimed even to know of them until they showed themselves at that opportune moment. He was a commander within that regiment, and this distinguished him, for the rangers still enjoyed high honor in the Isles, and were often leaders and other important figures. Further, he was impressive in and of himself, his height and massive build in his ranger doublet cut an intimidating figure. No doubt this man was a force to be reckoned with in a fight, but how much so in a negotiation?

Lastly, and possibly the most titillating, from the viewpoint of the true gossipmongers, was the nature of their marriage. The word that had circulated was that it was a fully tri-directional marriage, and that the women were equally wed to one another as to him. This led to much discussion of the sexual possibilities that this arrangement would lead to. Some folk were mildly scandalized, others greatly so, still others were simply intrigued and curious. Many men had a touch of envy for the handsome ranger and his two quite attractive brides. Others, likewise, felt pity for a man forced to deal with two wives. These opinions were likely based upon their pleasure or lack thereof at their own choice of mates.

Over four hundred eyes watched them stop at the bottom of the stairs and took in the Vilderian merchants' approach. Some spoken greetings were uttered between the trio and the three leading merchants. The noise level increased, and a moment later, the music began again. The leadmost merchant, a fellow named Imvagelli, spoke to Harlen in earnest for a moment, praising his stunning entrance and begging leave to bend his ear in private - later of course.

People approached the trio in small groups or individuals, and soon, as Harlen noted occurred at parties, the three were far separated as differing factions wished to exchange pleasantries with them and introduce themselves.

Hyandai was in a quite animated conversation with a diminutive man with slanted eyes and a head of silver hair. He also had a long, slender moustache that actually drooped off his face on either end. When the little man spoke, Harlen watched to see if the moustache's wispy ends ever got inhaled, which did not seem to ever quite happen. They seemed awfully comfortable together, and Harlen decided to find out who he was - when it was convenient.

That thought had barely gelled when another man, tall and lean like a fence post, walked up and presented his hand. Harlen took it and shook the offered limb. "I am Helmut Gleiss, ambassador of Sudhof in the Southern Realms," he said in an accented, booming voice. Harlen smiled, filling the gentleman in on the redundant information of his own title. "We are far from Morrovale, but we welcome a fellow Realmsman to the shark infested waters."

"Aren't we a ways from the coast now?" asked Harlen, blinking.

Helmut laughed loudly, enough so that several nearby folk peered over to see what this source of joviality might be. "Indeed we are, Master Harlen, but these sharks, they have legs." He looked around, giving each dignitary at the event a short, judging stare.

Harlen chuckled at that. "I see," he said. "Well, I will keep an eye out for their teeth then."

Both Harlen and Hyandai had rather worried over Wendy's reaction to this gathering, but their fears were groundless. She moved into the crowd like a practiced huntsman through underbrush. All three of them were in demand as partners for conversation, and they were accosted again just as soon as one discussion ended, or even just before.

A half-hour after their arrival, the lights were dimmed by drawing a screen of finely etched wood over the chandelier. This cued everyone to clear the polished marble of the dance floor. A moment later, music began. It was unfamiliar to Harlen or Hyandai, but Wendy recognized it right off, grabbing Hyandai's arm and dragging her onto the floor. After they began to dance, a feminine voice came to Harlen from his right.

"They dance marvelously, you must be very proud," she said. Harlen turned to regard a woman who stood every inch as tall as he. She was also ten or more years his senior, though still a very lovely woman. She had hair that was both auburn and gray plaited into a rope down her spine, which reached past her well-shaped backside.

"I am," said Harlen, "But I would be remiss if I didn't ask such a lovely woman as you to dance when she is not already doing so."

She turned a bright smile onto him, straightening a row of dark freckles across her upper cheeks and the bridge of her nose. "I see how you managed to garner two wives," she said, appreciatively. She held out her hand and Harlen escorted her onto the floor.

"They had as much to do with that as I," said Harlen as they began the slow, close waltz.

"So I have heard," said the tall Coghlandish woman. "It's very - interesting."

Harlen raised an eyebrow. "I've wondered how much of our business is known by the people of the Isles," he said.

"Not so much as we would like to think," she said, again giving him another wide smile.

Her gown, like the ones worn by most women at this event, was form-fitting and sheer. Her body was quite athletic and showed little sign of her age, he discovered as they danced.

"I'm rather surprised to find Coghlandish representation here," said Harlen, eyeing her red and blue tartan. "What clan are you part of?" he asked.

She looked at it. "Clan McEllis," she replied. "We are a sept of the MacEwan." Harlen knew little of the Coghlanders and the structure of their clans and septs, but decided to learn more at the soonest. "My name is Mairead, by the way," she said, as if just remembering to introduce herself. "Everyone here knows your name." She broke into a more florid, natural smile. "I was quite happy to see a tall man descend those stairs," she said, "dancing with a man of small stature is rather trying for both parties."

As she said this, her thigh crept between his on the next step, and slid along his inner leg slowly as they flowed into the next motion. His organ pressed firmly to her leg, then slid over it. It reacted almost instantly, already stiffening as the contact broke.

Harlen swallowed and tried to pull back a bit. "You flatter me, Harlen of Morrovale," she said in a quiet voice, and only smiling enough to register pleasure, not ridicule.

Still, Harlen felt heat rise in his cheeks and he tried to don a smile himself. "These tights are rather revealing," he replied.

Mairead slid against him again on the next downbeat and Harlen would have sworn there was a hand involved in what passed over his thigh were both not on his shoulders. He was fully roused now and mercifully - or not - the tall, muscular Coghlander seemed determined to keep herself in contact with that warm patch of his tights, else all others at the event would have known as well.

"You've done it now, we'll have to dance until it subsides," he said, whispering into her ear.

"I can do a dance that will make it subside in mere moments, though I fear your tights would suffer for it," she said, her nails dragging on his neck.

Neither eventuality came to pass, however, as Hyandai somehow managed to cut in for the final third of the song. Harlen was unsure how it had been done, but he was suddenly facing his elven bride and she smiled up at him, raising an eyebrow at his obvious erection.

"I'm glad you're here," he said. "I got rather overexcited and feared that Mairead would take advantage of it."

She giggled, a sound that elicited glances from several nearby couples. "It was she who gestured for me to come over," said Hyandai, pressing firmly to his middle and moving her body in a way that surely would have gained comment, had it been noted. "I think she was as fearful of her own reactions to you as yours to her."

Harlen glanced over to the wall, were the middle-aged Coghlandish woman was fanning herself with a large lacy fan and seemed a bit redder than her normal complexion.

The two of them were not precisely dancing as most of the couples were. Hyandai seemed to add flourishes to the movements, while Harlen moved with somewhat fewer. It seemed, however, that it was proper, as they did it, and mostly it just raised the crowd's estimation of Hyandai, and marked Harlen as slightly, and charmingly nervous.

A few, however, smelled blood in the water already.

"Perhaps I should let the ambassador handle his own negotiations from now on?" asked Hyandai, grinning at him. "I'm certain Morrovale and Coghland could come to some sort of mutual and satisfactory - position - with little debate."

Harlen felt his ears turn bright red and gaped at her. "Ten minutes at a gathering of dignitaries and already you would toss me aside," he said with a grin. "Where is the cad who has caught your emerald eyes? Might it be that charming man from Niliwan?"

Hyandai giggled again, and the crowd was now used to the sound, it only garnered shared smiles from the other dancers. "He is almost old enough to be my father and that says much."

"I'll say it is," said Harlen, turning to look at the wizened, miniature figure near the doors to the veranda. "He must be over a hundred."

"One hundred and eight," said Hyandai, nodding. "Even elves would regard him as more than mature. I met him when I was here before, during the Abian Wars."

Harlen kept forgetting that she had clear memory of those events, even if he were only eight. He reminded himself that she was, in elven terms, older than Trevir then.

"Did you have a crush on this Verus?" asked Harlen.

"A crush?" asked Hyandai, lifting that analytical eyebrow. "An infatuation?"

"Yes," replied Harlen.

Hyandai chewed her cheek a bit, a habit picked up from Wendy, then said, "I suppose I did," she said. "He fascinated me and made me feel safe." Then she hastily added, "He was a good man, Harlen, and never would have done anything improper, even if my fey had been active then."

Those last words came out in a rush that sounded, to Harlen's ears, a bit too quickly said.

"Was your fey active then?" he asked.

Hyandai flushed so thoroughly that even her bared shoulders turned slightly pink. "It became so while I lived in Verus and Imogene's home."

Harlen pulled her close. "Sorry, I should not pry into your life before we ever met, about things that embarrass you," he said.

His elven bride clung to him. "I have no secrets from you, beloved," she said. "I would not marry a man who could not hear all of my tales."

The song ended and the dancers gave a quick round of applause to the orchestra, who were leaving the alcove for a short intermission. "They have acquired a virtuosa violinist this night," said Hyandai. "I have heard even elves weep at the sound of her playing."

Harlen raised his own eyebrow this time. "Elves admitting a human can move them musically?" he asked. "Cereandel once said most human music gives elves headaches."

"Cereandel would not admit the existence of humans stronger than elves had you not bested father in arm wrestling at our wedding feast," said Hyandai curtly. Her brother was a touchy subject and one Harlen loved to poke her with. "I have watched him dance a jig to human fifers just as enthusiastically as to elven harps."