you is done until Areyn calls me again.”
“Areyn calls you again?” Fialan repeated. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Eshe turned to him and for a moment, she looked as though she might strike him. Instead, something flickered in her eyes — pity? Her silver eyes then hardened. “You’ll learn soon enough, Fialan.”
*****
Lachlei strode into the High Council of the Lochvaur . The Council room was a large hall, hewn from oak, with exposed rafters and tall clerestories that brought in light. It was dark and smoky inside. A firepit with a crackling fire sat in the middle with rows of benches arranged before it for the nobles. The ruddy light cast shadows on the nobles’ faces, but she could see that many were still here. A small dais with two thrones sat along the back wall. Red and gold tapestries lined the walls and the Lochvaur banners hung overhead. The tapestries depicted heroic battles in Lochvaur history.
One tapestry, which Lachlei had always loved, was of Lochvaur fighting side-by-side with Rhyn’athel, the god of warriors. All first-bloods could trace their lineage back over two thousand years to Lochvaur, the son of Rhyn’athel. She gazed at the creatures they were fighting — dark, shadow-like things with teeth and claws. They were demons — creatures of Areyn Sehduk’s creation. Like so many things touched by the god of death, these creatures lived only to destroy.
Lachlei suppressed a shudder. She had sensed the vile magic that had tainted the bodies and wondered about the demons yet again. Lachlei had considered herself a powerful first-blood, and though she was loathed to admit Kellachan was right, she had been Fialan’s equal in many ways.
Her mind strayed to Rhyn for a moment. The handsome Chi’lan was a bit of an enigma for her. She had never felt someone with that much defense, nor had her mental probes ever been detected. Could he be the next Lochvaur champion?
Lachlei turned and glanced at Kellachan, who nodded to her. She strode in and met the chief of the High Council, Laewynd. Laewynd was possibly the oldest Lochvaur alive, being nearly five hundred years. Most Eleion were not much older than Lachlei, herself, because of the frequent warring between the kindreds. Despite his age, Laewynd looked only slightly older than Lachlei, but no longer had the hardness of the warrior build.
Lachlei was surprised to see most of the council members present. Six men and one woman made up the Lochvaur High Council. Tarchon, Moira, and Kieran sat alongside Laewynd, but Lachlei noted Talar and Elrys were absent. Her cousin Kellachan was the youngest council member, chosen because of his first-blood. All had been Chi’lan at one time — each bearing the scars of battle. Of all the council members, the only two Lachlei had known well were Laewynd and Kellachan. Lachlei had known Moira as a Chi’lan since Lochalan’s rule. Moira had been a Chi’lan when Lachlei had earned her badge, but had left the Chi’lan to become a council member soon after. Kieran and Kellachan were the only active Chi’lan warriors on the High Council who had served Fialan and now served her.
Lachlei grasped Laewynd’s arms in the traditional Chi’lan greeting and noted the softness of his hands as her own fingers brushed the backs of them. Not the hands of a warrior, she thought. She wondered if the Lochvaur had been imprudent to have someone who wasn’t Chi’lan anymore in charge of the High Council.
“My queen, Lachlei,” Laewynd spoke.
“You’ve presumed much, Laewynd,” Lachlei said crossly. “I am Chi’lan …”
“I know, I’ve heard,” Laewynd said. “And I want you to stop this foolishness…”
Lachlei stared at him speechlessly.
“We all know that you are the last first-blood with power — save perhaps your son, Haellsil, but he is an infant,” the chief councilmember said. “There is no other choice, Lachlei, you must be queen.”
Lachlei shook her head. “There must be
“Areyn calls you again?” Fialan repeated. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Eshe turned to him and for a moment, she looked as though she might strike him. Instead, something flickered in her eyes — pity? Her silver eyes then hardened. “You’ll learn soon enough, Fialan.”
*****
Lachlei strode into the High Council of the Lochvaur . The Council room was a large hall, hewn from oak, with exposed rafters and tall clerestories that brought in light. It was dark and smoky inside. A firepit with a crackling fire sat in the middle with rows of benches arranged before it for the nobles. The ruddy light cast shadows on the nobles’ faces, but she could see that many were still here. A small dais with two thrones sat along the back wall. Red and gold tapestries lined the walls and the Lochvaur banners hung overhead. The tapestries depicted heroic battles in Lochvaur history.
One tapestry, which Lachlei had always loved, was of Lochvaur fighting side-by-side with Rhyn’athel, the god of warriors. All first-bloods could trace their lineage back over two thousand years to Lochvaur, the son of Rhyn’athel. She gazed at the creatures they were fighting — dark, shadow-like things with teeth and claws. They were demons — creatures of Areyn Sehduk’s creation. Like so many things touched by the god of death, these creatures lived only to destroy.
Lachlei suppressed a shudder. She had sensed the vile magic that had tainted the bodies and wondered about the demons yet again. Lachlei had considered herself a powerful first-blood, and though she was loathed to admit Kellachan was right, she had been Fialan’s equal in many ways.
Her mind strayed to Rhyn for a moment. The handsome Chi’lan was a bit of an enigma for her. She had never felt someone with that much defense, nor had her mental probes ever been detected. Could he be the next Lochvaur champion?
Lachlei turned and glanced at Kellachan, who nodded to her. She strode in and met the chief of the High Council, Laewynd. Laewynd was possibly the oldest Lochvaur alive, being nearly five hundred years. Most Eleion were not much older than Lachlei, herself, because of the frequent warring between the kindreds. Despite his age, Laewynd looked only slightly older than Lachlei, but no longer had the hardness of the warrior build.
Lachlei was surprised to see most of the council members present. Six men and one woman made up the Lochvaur High Council. Tarchon, Moira, and Kieran sat alongside Laewynd, but Lachlei noted Talar and Elrys were absent. Her cousin Kellachan was the youngest council member, chosen because of his first-blood. All had been Chi’lan at one time — each bearing the scars of battle. Of all the council members, the only two Lachlei had known well were Laewynd and Kellachan. Lachlei had known Moira as a Chi’lan since Lochalan’s rule. Moira had been a Chi’lan when Lachlei had earned her badge, but had left the Chi’lan to become a council member soon after. Kieran and Kellachan were the only active Chi’lan warriors on the High Council who had served Fialan and now served her.
Lachlei grasped Laewynd’s arms in the traditional Chi’lan greeting and noted the softness of his hands as her own fingers brushed the backs of them. Not the hands of a warrior, she thought. She wondered if the Lochvaur had been imprudent to have someone who wasn’t Chi’lan anymore in charge of the High Council.
“My queen, Lachlei,” Laewynd spoke.
“You’ve presumed much, Laewynd,” Lachlei said crossly. “I am Chi’lan …”
“I know, I’ve heard,” Laewynd said. “And I want you to stop this foolishness…”
Lachlei stared at him speechlessly.
“We all know that you are the last first-blood with power — save perhaps your son, Haellsil, but he is an infant,” the chief councilmember said. “There is no other choice, Lachlei, you must be queen.”
Lachlei shook her head. “There must be
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