Guardians of the Lost (36 page)

The Shield received the lady with careful courtesy. She was profuse in her bows, acknowledged his generosity in seeing her with becoming humility. He seated her in the chair with the best view, made certain that she was comfortable and asked if she required anything to enhance her comfort. She protested that she was not worthy of such attention and begged him to be seated. He offered to have his servants bring her any delicacy she might desire, asked if she would take tea, for it was early in the day yet for wine.

The Lady Godelieve declined and he did not press her. After an hour exchanging the customary pleasantries that are required of almost every conversation among elves, the two were at last able to turn to matters of importance.

“His Majesty, King Dagnarus, expresses himself satisfied with the terms proposed by Your Lordship,” said Lady Godelieve.

The Shield expressed his satisfaction with the King's satisfaction.

The Lady Godelieve made a seated bow, a graceful movement that put the surrounding willow trees to shame. “His Majesty King Dagnarus has asked that we once again go over the plan so that we are all of us in perfect accord.”

A slight flush tinged the lady's pale complexion. “I am aware that Your Lordship has every right to consider such repetition an insult. I tried to explain this to His Majesty, but I could not make him understand. He has insisted.”

The Shield's expression darkened. He
was
insulted, for he had dictated the terms and now he was going to be forced to hear them dictated back to him.

“I am not some schoolboy,” he said coldly, “to sit through my lessons.”

The Lady Godelieve rested her hand on his. Her marvelous eyes were soft with sympathy for him, pleaded for understanding.

“King Dagnarus is human, my lord. Take that into consideration and be generous. His Majesty says, and, I must admit, rightly so, that this is so very important to both of us that he wants there to be no mistake in his understanding.”

The Shield took hold of her hand in his, softly stroked her slender fingers. “Ah, Lady Godelieve, such is the power of your exquisite beauty you could convince me that the moon is the sun, that day is night, that death is life.”

The flush that had warmed her face vanished. She stared at him, her face gone bone white. If he had lifted his gaze to meet hers, he would have recoiled at the look in her eyes, a look expressive of loathing and disdain, that seemed to say,
What do you know of either death or life, you precious fool?

She mastered her anger. By the time he lifted his gaze from admiring her hand, her eyes were limpid, still as the water.

“May I begin, Your Lordship?”

“Please, do,” he said politely, thinking that, after all, this wasn't such a bad thing. The human was right. So critical, so dangerous was their plan that it was best to make certain both sides knew what was expected. And he could look at the Lady Godelieve forever.

“It is the intent of King Dagnarus to heap disaster after disaster upon the head of the Divine, so that he will finally collapse under the weight of them,” the Lady Godelieve stated. “First, you will see to it that the elven Dominion Lords have no power to interfere with our plans. Those who do not side with you are either removed or rendered ineffective. This is most important to King Dagnarus.”

“He has stated this before and I find it odd. His Majesty appears to have an irrational fear of Dominion Lords,” said the Shield with some smugness. “They are mortal, for all their magical power.”

“King Dagnarus does not fear anything in this life or the next,” said the Lady Godelieve. “He respects Dominion Lords and the influence they wield over weak minds. He believes that you think too lightly of them, my lord, and he wants assurances that you take the threat they pose seriously.”

“You can give him those assurances,” said the Shield and not even the soothing effect of the lady's beauty could assuage his mounting
anger. “Three of the lords, those of House Llywer, House Tanath and House Maghuran side with me. They feel the Divine is weak and too much under the influence of the Vinneng-aeleans. Of the four Dominion Lords who oppose me, one finds himself embroiled in a peasant uprising in his homeland. Another has been sent on a mission to the land of the orks to study the state of the ork military, while yet another—”

“I know that already, my lord,” interrupted Lady Godelieve coolly. “But what of the fourth—Damra of House Gwyenoc? She continues to be public in her disparagement of you and your policies. She is openly supportive of the Divine. We have information that the three who now side with you are starting to listen to her arguments.”

“Her tongue will not wag for long, I assure you,” said the Shield. “I have summoned Damra of Gwyenoc to my court. She arrives this day, in fact.”

The Lady Godelieve was surprised. “What did you say to induce her to come here, my lord? Feeling as she does about you.”

“It seems her husband has vanished,” said the Shield. “A most unfortunate occurrence. I sent Damra a letter of condolence, in which I expressed my hope that her husband will soon be discovered safe and unharmed and that they will once more be reunited.”

“Indeed,” Lady Godelieve murmured, her gaze fixed intently on the Shield. “That is truly sad for her.”

“I added in my letter that I had received information as to his whereabouts, information that I am loath to reveal in a missive, since it involves the Wyred. I suggested that she meet me here at my palace in Glymrae, where I would divulge the information and we would join forces, she and I, to see to it that her husband is recovered.”

“I take it that the husband has been found,” Lady Godelieve said with an arch of her delicate eyebrow.

“In truth,” said the Shield, smiling, “he was never lost. Not to me, at least. He is being held captive by the Wyred of my own household.”

“And she knows this?”

“Damra may be many things, but she is not a fool. She can read vinegar as well as ink. (A reference to the fact that elves often used
vinegar to write secret messages which are invisible until held to the light.) Of course, she knows. Once she agrees to my terms, her husband will be released.”

Lady Godelieve appeared skeptical. “Damra of Gwyenoc is said to be strong willed—”

“She has the misfortune to be in love with her husband,” said the Shield dryly. “A destructive force—love. I do not know what the poets see in it. I am thankful to have escaped it myself.”

The Shield made a signal to the Keeper of the Keys, and sent him to ascertain if Damra had arrived. So close were servant and master that the Shield had only to gesture for the Keeper to understand what he wanted. The Keeper bowed and left upon his errand.

“We were discussing love,” the Shield said, turning back to his guest. “A destructive force, as I was saying—” He paused, alarmed. “My lady, are you ill?”

“No, no,” Lady Godelieve said, but the words were inaudible, came from lips so stiff she could barely move them.

“You do not look well. I will have the bridge lowered at once.” The Shield was on his feet. “Some wine…a honey posset…”

“Please, do not trouble yourself on my account, my lord.” The Lady Godelieve reached out her hand, rested her cool fingers on his arm. “A sudden indisposition, nothing more. I am quite recovered. Let us continue with our business.”

“If you are certain…” The Shield regarded her worriedly.

The lady assured him that she was and the Shield returned to his seat. He still had doubts, for she was extremely pale and he could plainly see marks upon her palm where she had driven her nails into her flesh. He did not question her further, however. One's health is a private matter among elves. Unlike humans, who delight in relating gruesome accounts of their latest gout attacks and the agonies suffered during a ruptured appendix, elves make no mention of illness in public and very little in private. The human greeting: “How are you?” is offensive to elves, who would never dream of questioning one another on something so personal. No matter how worried he might be about his companion, the Shield was bound by the dictates of politeness to continue on as if nothing had occurred.

“The Dominion Lords are not an issue,” said the Shield. “Lady Damra will come around to my way of thinking. She will have no choice.”

The Lady Godelieve looked as if she might have doubts on that score, but she said nothing, moved on to the next point—the attack on the Tromek Portal.

“The forces of King Dagnarus are in position along the Nimorean border,” Lady Godelieve reported. “He keeps the taan in hiding, of course. When he receives word that the elven portion of the Sovereign Stone is in safe-keeping and out of the hands of the Divine, King Dagnarus will launch the attack against the Portal. You will see to it that he wins.”

“Of course. How goes the war with Karnu?” the Shield asked. “Has the Karnuan Portal fallen yet?”

The Lady Godelieve frowned. Displeased, she favored the Shield with a cold glance. “The war with Karnu progresses slowly, but it progresses.”

The Shield responded with polite wishes for the king's success, though privately he doubted if Karnu would fall. The Karnuan military was one of the best trained, best equipped forces on Loerem. The Shield's spies reported that King Dagnarus's war against Karnu was bogged down, that Dagnarus had badly underestimated the Karnuans' resolve and tenacity. The siege of the Karnu capital of Dalon 'Ren had been repulsed and Dagnarus had suffered heavy losses when a force from the neighboring city of Karfa 'Len had marched to the aid of the capital. Caught between hammer and anvil, the taan had been forced to retreat. The siege of the Karnuan Portal continued, but the Portal had yet to fall.

“Will King Dagnarus be sending reinforcements to Karnu?” asked the Shield. “I ask only because it seems to me that he is spreading his armies thin. I want to make certain that this attack on New Vinnengael will succeed. You can understand my concern, Lady Godelieve.”

“Quite, my lord,” she returned. “King Dagnarus believes that the numbers of his forces in Karnu are more than sufficient to achieve victory. That being said, once Dagnarus controls Vinnengael, he will
be able to attack Karnu from the east, as well as the west. If Karnu falls now, or Karnu falls later, Karnu will still fall.”

So, thought the Shield to himself, Dagnarus will not be sending in reinforcements. His troops in Karnu must make do with what they have. He wondered idly if those taan commanders knew that they were being flung to the wolves. Since he had heard that the taan monsters gloried in death in battle, perhaps they did not care.

“The Tromek Portal will fall. I will see to that,” said the Shield. “In return, King Dagnarus pledges that he will move his troops straight through the Portal, that he will enter and exit our lands in the space of twenty-four hours and that he will relinquish control of the Portal once he has made use of it.”

The lady found this talk of war boring. As she listened to the Shield, her gaze rested upon a pair of regal, white birds known as egrets. A mated pair, they strolled together through the crystal waters of the lake, their long, graceful legs lifting slowly and deliberately, their white head plumage fluttering in the wind. One, the male, spotted a fish. His head darted into the water, snagged it. Bringing it up, he presented it to his mate, who accepted it with delicate grace and gulped it down whole.

The lady watched the two birds a moment longer, then said, “King Dagnarus makes that pledge, my lord. Knowing that it is natural for two people who have never met face-to-face to hold doubts, I offer myself as hostage to the king's good faith. I will remain in Glymrae, in your keeping. Should King Dagnarus break his sworn word, you have leave to vent your wrath upon me.”

“Then I have no more doubts,” said the Shield with courtly gallantry. “For I well know that King Dagnarus will never risk harm to such a beautiful lady, one whom he must hold in his highest esteem and regard.”

The Lady Godelieve murmured her gratitude for the compliment and expressed her unworthiness. All the while she spoke, she did not look at him, but kept her gaze on the egrets.

“That leaves only the Sovereign Stone,” said the Shield and with these words he won back the lady's attention. In this, she was vitally
interested. “You run a great risk. I must own that I am reluctant to expose you to such danger.”

“I do not make light of the danger, my lord, but I think you overestimate it. Our plan is a sound one. And,” she added humbly, “should something go wrong, I am easily denounced. I am expendable.”

“If you are determined—”

“I am, my lord. All is planned. It is too late to back out now.”

The Shield yielded with a good grace, as he'd intended to do all along. “Very well. When the theft of the Sovereign Stone is discovered, I will send messengers throughout the realm, proclaiming that the gods themselves have given us this sign that they have turned their backs upon the Divine. You have arranged for a place of safe-keeping for the Stone?”

“Oh, yes,” said the lady with calm composure. “On that you may rest assured.”

The Shield regarded her long and hard. Much as he would like to ignore them, the words of his Honored Ancestor returned to him.
Dagnarus is an abomination, a thing of evil. And this is the creature with whom you would ally yourself
. The Shield admired the beauty of the Lady Godelieve, but he was not some moon-struck youth, to fall prey to the throbbing of his private parts and abandon common sense. The Shield was a tall man, counted thin even among the slender elves. His body ran to muscle and bone and ambition, as the saying went. He had a wife, taken by the customary elven practice of arranged marriage. The two of them had collaborated to produce the requisite number of children and, beyond that and appearing together at public functions, they had little to do with each other. He kept no mistresses, knowing that they could pose a danger to him. He measured everything in his life by one tape—his quest for political power—and he used that tape to take the measure of the Lady Godelieve.