Chapter 53

“Time to go,” Roxanne announced to our party as we gathered in front of the portal for transfer to Loegria and then Kurukshetra and onto the Island of Jingol on Tír na nÓg.

“Yep,” Róisín replied with a grin as the portal opened and we set off to observe Ilzik and Lenna’s ceremony of intention.

Our party was quite a mix as Ilzik and Lenna had gained many friends during the time of our engagement of the Orcs and finally the Vultoqi. We were mostly human, but Tu’tar, Marja, Adok and Tchac’trar were coming too, as honoured guests, along with a few others of their races.

“Greetings, Cirsan Arwen and honoured guests,” a tall Drow announced as we stepped through the portal to what was for me the island of Iceland, but was known as Jingol on Tír na nÓg.

“Greetings,” we all replied in our various ways.

“My name is Quruth. I have been assigned by Regent Taqual to ensure your stay is as pleasant as possible,” she went on.

“Thank you, Quruth,” Roxanne replied. “I’ve warned them all to behave,” she finished with a chuckle as she got a few grins from us as well as a smile from Quruth.

“Rooms have been assigned to you in the Summer Palace,” Quruth went on, indicating with her arm that we were to follow her.

“You have a Winter Palace as well?” Jukar asked out of curiosity.

“No,” Quruth answered with a smile. “We called it that to differentiate it from Myrkálfar and our dark past.”

We emerged from what was ostensibly a customs post, designed to prevent anyone the Drow didn’t want coming into or leaving Jingol. It had a Seer-maintained anti-teleport and portal screen covering the entire island, at the request of the Drow themselves, to keep their few troublemakers where they could keep an eye on them. Most agreed with the decision, no one wanted anyone untrusted and with a Drow skill set running loose in society. They were also pretty upset when Yinbor, a Drow observer had been caught working with forces opposed to Verenestra’s government when the nation as a whole had given a Calvagh to support them.

“Impressive,” I murmured when we came into view of the palace which had been built in the old Fae style as used in Keldravan, their ancient capital.

“It’s adapted for the more extreme weather patterns we get here on Jingol. But it was the first time since the fortresses that the Fae have built a permanent structure on this scale,” Quruth explained.

“You should do more work like this,” Imelda answered, clearly impressed with the palace and the town around it.

“I am told the Queen agrees with you. But most Fae live a nomadic existence and what few towns they have don’t warrant such buildings.”

“No harm in making your surroundings as beautiful as possible when you have examples like this to draw upon,” Brianna added.

“I suspect it will happen soon enough. The Fae population is now growing again after millennia of stagnation and decline,” Quruth replied, clearly pleased with the praise Fae architecture was getting.

It seemed odd to me to see so many Drow out and about and living what I can only describe as an urban existence as, unlike most Fae, that was how they lived in Myrkálfar, though admittedly we didn’t observe any of that during the siege and battle. They were observing us politely out of curiosity as well as I rather doubted they got to see many other races, living in self enforced isolation, save for Royal duties.

Quruth led us through the unguarded gates and into the palace proper, where she took us to what had to be an audience chamber where the Drow I recognised as having to be Taqual, judging by his resemblance to Ilzik and Esira, sat at a desk in the corner going over reams of notes and reports, rather than sitting in a throne in the middle.

“My regent, I have brought the guests of your son,” Quruth announced.

“Greetings, Regent Taqual,” we all added in our various ways.

“Welcome to the Summer Palace,” he replied. “I asked specifically that you be brought to me as various reports have reached me of attempts to disrupt the Ceremony of Intention and amongst you are the chosen bodyguards of my son and Lenna.”

“That would be Tu’tar for Ilzik and me for Lenna,” Roxanne nodded.

For just a second Taqual looked slightly stunned when viewing Tu’tar before sitting back with a wry smile on his face. “Seems I have nothing to fear,” he finished with a chuckle.

“We both intend to wear anti-cloaking amulets as well,” Roxanne added.

“Both my son and Lenna assured me that they had chosen their bodyguards well, though gave no indication that one was a Mazdani and the other the Mage who slew three of the old leadership in Myrkálfar,” he replied with an open grin.

“Aye, well, he wanted to allow any plotters to assume that they faced mere mortals,” Roxanne chuckled. “Not to plan on taking out a Mazdani.”

“I am willing to take on all challengers collectively,” Tu’tar rumbled. “Assuming there are no more than twenty of them.”

“Good grief,” Taqual laughed out loud. “My son, as ever, has chosen wisely.”

“He is a formidable Drow in his own right, as are both Esira and Lenna,” I added.

“Ah, you are journeyman Mage John, who commands them on the missions against the Orcs as well as this new adversary. I recognise you from my daughter’s description,” he nodded, making me wonder just what else Esira had told him.

“I have that honour, yes, Regent Taqual.”

“Both my children were thrilled to be chosen for this mission and fight alongside the captor of Oonagh, the false queen,” he nodded.

“You have every right to be proud of them; I cannot imagine doing our current mission without the Drow to aid us.”

“John is right, Regent. Our task would be nigh on impossible without your people,” Roxanne confirmed.

“You do us honour,” Taqual replied.

“It is fully deserved.”

After the meeting, Quruth took us to our rooms so we could rest and prepare for what was some form of entertainment in the evening.

“Formal or casual?” I asked her.

“It is not a formal occasion, but, the Queen, the Consort and the Regent will be there,” she replied. “Plus you have the Cirsan with you.”

“Smart casual then,” Brianna nodded.

“Ah ... yes.” Quruth finally nodded as Brianna mentally gave her the details.

Well, getting ready was pretty easy for me, even if I was being constantly advised by my five wives and occasionally by Elpida, who was staying with us during our time there. But what is it with women, even if they can do magic, to stretch out a process that should take minutes into something that takes nigh on an hour? Plus get the general idea that when they’d assembled, is that it was a ‘rush job.’

Still, pretty much on the dot, surrounded by my beautiful wives, plus Elpida whom I was under instructions to treat as a wife if she was with us, we descended a central staircase into what looked like a ballroom ... though as far as I was aware, the Fae (or Drow) did not go in for formal dancing.

We were greeted at the base of the stairs by Ilzik and Lenna, both looking very different in the flowing silks that Fae wear in normal day-to-day wear.

“My friends,” Ilzik spoke first, echoed by Lenna.

“Friend Ilzik, friend Lenna,” we all replied in aes’sidhe, including the formal gesture of respect that indicated that we were honour bound to come to their aid (and vice versa) if it was needed.

That caused somewhat of a buzz amongst the Drow guests in the chamber as humans were a rarity. Showing the ultimate in respect was, despite the rumours, thought to be impossible for us. Soon other members of our party came down, all showing the same respect for the couple and making the murmurs of conversation grow ever louder.

Finally Quruth announced the arrival of the royal party and we all bowed our heads slightly as Verenestra, William and Arwen descended to greet Ilzik and Lenna.

Verenestra then shocked the Drow by giving both Ilzik and Lenna a joyful embrace, clearly indicating that they were in royal favour and giving a subtle warning to those who were opposed to Lenna’s past, allowing her to come closer to power again, that they were on thin ice. Not that I would expect the hard core of potential disruptors to care about this as they hated the Queen anyway from what Esira had once told me.

The royal party then made their way to formally greet Taqual and his wife Usanna, the mother of Ilzik and Esira. Afterwards, Arwen made a beeline towards Callum and Verenestra to Roxanne, no doubt for an unofficial briefing on the Vultoqi. Drinks were now being handed out, the Fae being master vintners, and individual conversation now began in earnest.

“Greetings,” an unknown to us Drow introduced himself as a ... call it a band struck up in a corner of the room.

“Greetings... ?” I replied for my party.

“Forgive me I am Brinont, former weaponmaster of the Dökkálfar,” he answered.

I introduced my family before asking the obvious question. “Former?”

“There is not much call for the old ways in society today.”

“Those who work with us follow the old ways, as does the Royal Guard,” I replied. “Admittedly with modern arms.”

“An honoured profession, but limited for all the Dökkálfar,” he nodded.

“Nothing wrong with being the best of the best,” Róisín added.

“I realise this, but would seek your advice on opening new avenues,” he replied, looking directly at me.

“Why me?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Mage Morgana.”

“Ah...”

“My people are talented, but there are just far too few opportunities for the more ... excitable of them. In the old days the elders would permit combat duels to ... cull the weak as it were.”

“What do you suggest?”

“There are rumours of a new enemy. I have Dökkálfar willing to fight and die.”

“And you would fight and die under orders from a human?” I asked, glancing at Roxanne.

“We would fight and die for honour.”

“This new enemy makes it more likely you’d die.”

“With honour?”

“Possibly futilely, and alone with no one knowing.”

“All we ask is for a chance to regain honour, honour that was lost fighting for the mad Queen. Please speak to your Mage for us.”

“What of the bright Queen?” I asked, glancing at Verenestra.

“She is subject to your Council in this. We need a voice there to help regain our honour.”

At this point both Roxanne, Taqual and Verenestra joined us.

“Still trying to regain an honour that was never lost, old friend?” Taqual asked Brinont.

“Not for me, my liege, but for the unblooded.”

“Times change as do the old ways. Did we not lose enough of our people at Myrkálfar?”

“We lost more than people, my liege. You know this. Yes, some have regained honour, yet others are denied the chance.”

“It could mean their deaths; these Vultoqi and their creatures are a formidable foe,” Roxanne interjected.

“I agree, Mage Roxanne, but Brinont also has the right of it. Too many of our surviving Dökkálfar still feel the shame of our past and seek to expiate it,” Taqual answered thoughtfully.