Chapter II:
Parting At Inklas
Thus she sailed south to Tel Arie,
Knowing not her fate it would be,
To mother the bold Queen thereof,
By a wicked man she'd never love.
Lord Palsen did she four times save,
When Folly lured him toward the grave,
By cunning mind and mighty arm,
She spared him from many a harm.
When dark Lapul was roused to fight,
Her great skill put their fleet to flight,
Back into their harbor to mourn,
Their faces white, their heads forlorn,
The sad end of Dalia's story we shall not consider here. It is described in sufficient detail in the history of the Welderan War, and would but sour our appreciation of what transpired first. The obsession men commonly have of happy endings is indicative of a lack of understanding concerning the nature of Time itself. As such, it is only they who have not given Time due consideration that require of every tale some enduring good, or some peaceful resolution.
For this cause the author of the Wars of Weldera ended with the success of the Galvahirna and the downfall of the spirits of Bel Albor, omitting from his account certain details that, ere his work was made public, were already conspiring against the heroes of his tale. I shall speak no more of the burning of Noras, or the revenge of the sons of Arakai, whose deeds made Weldera weep anew, as these events are infamous enough. Suffice it to say, it is not the results of a story, but the story itself that constitutes its meaning. Those who place such importance in the end of a story misunderstand Time, not realizing that it is every moment that is important, and not merely the moment that happens to appear last of all.
There are not a great many fairy tales that originate in Lapulia. There is the tale of the clever raven, which is as much a work of natural science as anything else, describing the raven's home and diet in great detail and precision, adding only a few lines of speech, and even then only with the words, 'If ravens could talk, then the raven might have said…' But one tale that has had some success in Lapulia, chiefly because it makes ridiculous the doctrines of the Dadrona, who for ages worshipped Lord Pelas, was known by the title, 'The Sacrifice of Palsen'.
The moral of the story is the simple truth that the one with whom you make a deal is at least as important as the deal itself. In the story, Palsen avoids the grave by swearing fealty to Lord Folly. Lord Folly demands three things of him, a pearl from the deepest sea, a cloud in a bottle and a pot full of silver earth. Through many humorous adventures Palsen acquires these things. But at the very end of the tale he is told, 'What did you think, poor Palsen, that I would keep my part of the bargain? He is a fool who deals with a fool. What is he, then, who deals with Lord Folly himself?'
Surely Lord Pelas dealt with Folly, for his first act was to rouse the city of Lapulia, which was older than Alwan, Ilvas and Sunlan alike. Though in the end the navy of Lapulia was driven back to their harbor in defeat, Lord Pelas lost nearly half of his fleet. And this at the very outset of his expedition.
From Sunlan
Ere his departure, Pelas made certain that his captains would be the most skilled and trustworthy sailors in Sunlan. The sons of Kolohi and Bralohi were all given command of their own vessels. Bralohi remained with Pelas upon his own warship, the Fatewind. His father, Lohi, also accompanied Lord Pelas, sailing at first as the ship's cook on his grandson Aebral's ship. Cheru, Oblis and Ginat, of course, accompanied Pelas, as no one would trust an entire vessel to their authority.
When Amro and Ghastin heard that Dalia was sailing in the stead of her beloved, they were filled with wrath. Were it not for the express command of Lord Pelas himself, they would have departed for Centan that very moment to squeeze from Dalta's throat an explanation for what they saw as nothing but the basest sort of cowardice.
'It is not cowardice,' Pelas countered. 'Dalta with great reluctance sends her, merely giving her permission, and not compulsion.'
'And will you allow a woman to board this ship? Or one of your other warships? Is she a fitting deckhand, or is the deck of a ship a fitting place for a lady? What of propriety?'
Pelas laughed. 'You believe less of your argument than I, Amro. For you care nothing for either tradition or etiquette. Nonetheless, in the ways of the sea, women have often proven their worth.' He paused there, amused by Ghastin's disdain and Amro's frustration. 'In the galley, for instance,' he bellowed, much to the amusement of Cheru, Ginat and Oblis, the latter of whom most certainly did not understand the joke.
Dalia arrived in Evnai on the First Day wearing leather sandals and a blue tunic. Around her waist was girt a slender belt of leather to which was affixed her own sword. It was not a warrior's blade by any account, but it was of dwarf-steel, forged for her by Amro himself. It was given to her as a gift and for her own defense, not for waging a war with monsters of the sea. Nonetheless, it was regal looking, and drew the attention of the other sailors as readily as her long dark hair and her noble face. The elves, especially the elves of Sunlan, laughed amongst themselves when they saw her, but the Knariss sailors seemed to hold her in awe.
Amro and Ghastin demanded that Dalia sail with them upon Falruvis' ship, the Dadiiron.
Sol, as he had proven himself to be a competent commander, was given command over more than eighty vessels, most of which were captained by sailors of the Knariss. Two of the ships under his command, however, were captained by his own sons, Primsol and Duesol, who, like their father, were capable seamen.
Pelas commanded two-hundred ships, most of which were captained either by his own servants or by elves of Sunlan. The remaining twenty warships were commanded by Rudjan, the seventh son of Ijjan, who had volunteered to sail with Agonas into the southern world.
The ships were equipped with wine and water, fruit and salted meat and a hundred other such things. They brought wool cloths and blankets enough for every sailor; for their journey was expected to be a long one, and they knew not when or where they might acquire such things in the due season. Along with their food and drink, they brought a great many weapons. Each man carried upon his person whatever weapon they preferred. In addition to this, however, each ship was given a stock of swords, axes and spears so that no man would ever want for a blade. In addition to the small arms, each ship was equipped with ballistas and harpoons, such as the navy of Sunlan was wont to use in its battles with pirates.
The fleet sailed for seven days with a warm westerly wind tugging them gently toward the southwest. All the excitement and anticipation for the journey soon evaporated as the warriors found themselves passing their days in idleness, gambling, drinking and sleeping under the sun.
Falruvis had become an able captain, having assisted Pelas in the policing of Evnai and the northeastern coasts of Sunlan. His crew was made up almost entirely of Knariss sailors, the chief of whom was called Alsley. To him Falruvis gave the responsibility of teaching Dalia the ways of the ship. Falruvis did not think it seemly for a woman to be on board a warship, but he had grown prudent enough to understand that, given that they sailed into danger, it would be wise to have every soul on the ship made capable of sailing. 'One simply does not know the future,' he said to himself as he called Alsley to his cabin.
The room was small; Falruvis preferred maneuverability over strength, and he therefore sailed on a smaller vessel than most of the other elves. His cabin was built in proportion to his warship, and it barely fit his bed, a table, a shelf and a chest full of his arms and his clothing. It was, of course, much nicer than the bunks upon which the seamen slept.
'My lord?' Alsley said with a slight bow.
'Find the woman,' Falruvis ordered with some hesitance. 'Teach her how to sail.'
Falruvis sat at his table with a roughly drawn map tacked onto the wood. A lantern swayed gently and rhythmically above him, sending delicate shadows tottering about the room.
'Yes, my l
ord,' Alsley said, preparing to obey without delay.
'Oh,' Falruvis added, smiling slightly, his silver hair tied behind his head by a chord. 'First teach her the meaning of work - for I dare say Dalta has spoiled her.'
'Of course,' Alsley said with a grin. 'She is a fine woman, though, so I suppose we needn't blame him overmuch.'
Falruvis nodded, but said soberly, 'Do not be deceived, friend,' and it was only to Alsley that he ever spoke so freely. 'She is no child - she is older than you, and more lettered. We elves, when we are at peace, can grow so gentle that we almost forget how to lift our own arms, let alone a heavy burden. A limited life,' he mused, 'is a gift after a manner of speaking.'
'If my lord says so, then it is so,' Alsley smiled.
'I should leave you to judge that for yourself, I suppose,' Falruvis laughed. 'Nonetheless, remember that for all her beauty, she is no child, and what she must learn she must learn quickly, and learn properly. We have no time to coddle her, and we dare not teach her incompletely. Teach her to labor, and then she will soon surpass your most experienced sailors in skill, though perhaps not in strength of arm.'
Dalia spent the first ten days of the journey scrubbing the galley clean after the last meals were cooked and the first ten evenings mopping the decks by the light of the fading sun. She did not complain, regardless of how she was treated or ridiculed. Alsley mocked her at first, and treated her rather unkindly, but as he watched her patiently endure whatever task she was given, his heart softened and he treated her no different from the other sailors. Also, the fierce glances he received from Ghastin made him reconsider just how hard he ought to make her work.
'That one has a dark heart,' Alsley said to Falruvis in the privacy of his cabin.
'Indeed,' Falruvis answered. 'Ever has he been this way. He was but a child when he was brought to Ilvas, and I do not think he has ever come to bear any good sentiments toward his companions. Amro is his brother, and Ele is their cousin - or so I am told.'
'Ele?' Alsley asked, never having heard the name mentioned before.
'Yes,' Falruvis nodded, realizing that the Knariss had not the knowledge of the high elf families that the elves themselves possessed. 'She is the bride of lord Dalta of Centan, and the mother of Dalele.'
Inklas
When two weeks had passed Alsley began teaching Dalia how to sail. By that time, however, land had been sighted, and preparations were being made to bring the ships into port. There was a city of men on the northern coast of Olgrost in those days called Inklas, and they meant to replenish their water and food stores before sailing around the coast of Olgrost. It was also Pelas' intention to learn what the people of that city had to say concerning the Monsters they sought.
Falruvis initially intended to have Dalia remain aboard. 'Not everyone will be going ashore; the people of the city would receive such a multitude as an invasion - and it would truly be an invasion. Let her not think so much of herself that she would expect to be among those important enough to go to land.'
But Amro, having heard of this, came to him and said, fiercely, 'Would you leave a lamb among wolves?' His strong arms were crossed in front of his chest and his head was tilted to one side as if he was studying Falruvis in the way a disappointed artisan inspects his defective work.
Falruvis nearly stuttered, but managed to say clearly, 'If you think the crew of this ship to be so brutish, I have no objection to her going ashore. But she shall be your concern in the city. And she shall not be brought into council. There are many men who have more right to go ashore than she, and more right to be counted among our leaders.' When Amro's brow furrowed, he added, 'In time. In time she shall take the place that Fate prepares for all the elves of Ilvas. But we must be patient in the meanwhile.'
Amro seemed to be satisfied with this, and, when the boats were lowered, he helped Dalia into the ship.
Ghastin had agreed to remain on board in her place, so as to lessen the frustration of the sailors at seeing the inexperienced daughter of lord Dalta go where they could not. 'Many of you have seen Inklas already,' Ghastin said defensively. 'Fight bravely, and wisely, and perhaps you shall see it again.'
'Fight?' one sailor laughed. 'You mean even you think these Beasts are real? The Beasts of Ijjan?'
Ghastin shook his head, looking south at the port as the setting sun painted both ocean and land vermillion. 'How can Lord Ijjan hope to rid himself of Ilvas if they are not, in some sense, real?'
The sailor shrugged and went back to his work.
'Fear not,' Ghastin added as he departed, 'there are monsters enough on both land and sea to claim all our lives!'
The sailor laughed. 'But what of the air?'
'If there is a Beast of the air,' Ghastin said, looking at the stars as they appeared, free at last from the sun's dominance. If there is a Beast of the air, then the gods alone can do aught about it.'
The sun vanished almost at the same moment Dalia's boat reached the wharf. Five strong men, smelling strongly of rum and ale, reached down from the wooden boards above her. Amro gave her into their hands. They smiled as the first man lifted her slender body from the boat and handed her to another.
Amro came next, and when they saw the strength of his arms they forsook all thoughts of amusement, and began to treat Dalia like a queen.
'I should thank you,' she said weakly to Amro.
He grunted and took her arm, leading her across the dark wharf toward the shore. A lantern hung from a post was the only light they could see. In darkness they made their way up toward the city. 'They did not permit us to enter through the main port,' Amro explained. 'The elders of the city are not enemies of Sunlan, but they have long feared that the strength of the elves would flow out of the north and sweep away the lands of the mortals. Inklas, of course, would be the first city to fall.'
'Shall the elves some day come to Tel Arie?' Dalia asked.
'You ask me of the future, Dalele,' he laughed softly. 'When I dwelt in Sunlan as a youth, I might have told you the future. And how wrong I would have been cannot be expressed but with laughter. I know better now, not how to divine what is to come, but how to be silent.'
She took this to mean that he did not wish to speak any more. But the silence seemed to make him uncomfortable.
'I have kept aloof from you, Dalele,' he said, 'because my heart is torn between fealty and family. I am bound by Fate herself to Pelas, whatsoever his own fate may be. I am fearful that there will come a day when my duties will become unbearable, and I will be an enemy to kin and an ally of darkness. But what must be, must be.' He laughed, realizing that he was not comforting but rather confusing her. 'Is it true, Dalele,' he asked after a pause, and as they were met by an elderly woman with a lantern who silently beckoned them to follow her.
Falruvis was about two dozen steps behind them, speaking in a hushed voice with Alsley and one of Bralohi's sons.
'Is it true,' Amro asked, 'that Dalta did not compel you to come in his stead? The men of Ilvas have always had a madman's marriage to courage, sometimes loving and sometimes hating bravery and honor.'
'Fear not, uncle,' Dalia answered with a small smile. 'there is no need for your duties filial and regal to enter mortal conflict one with the other. Dalta did not make me come; this is no Doom Path!'
'You are certain?' he asked.
'I am certain,' she said confidently. 'It was I who compelled him to give me leave.'
'But why?' Amro said, more troubled by the thought that she had chosen to come on this perilous adventure than by the thought that Dalta had hidden from danger by sending his daughter in his place.'
Dalia fell silent and looked away, realizing that she had spoken too much already. For she did not wish to dishonor her love, by revealing to others that it was in his place that she had chosen to come.
She was spared any need to further explain herself by the arrival of a large party of armed men. Four of them bore long wooden lances and the rest were armed wi
th longswords. 'I am Olghon,' one of them said, 'I shall take you to the elders of Inklas.' And so he did, leading them along dirty stone paths toward the city.
Dalia was immediately struck by the strange fact that this city of mortals appeared in every way to be older, rather than younger than many of the cities of the elves. The houses were built imperfectly, and settled at odd angles, unnoticeable to mortal eyes, but to eyes that had seen the halls of Ijjan, built during an age of peace and art, every deviation from perfection was noticeable.
They soon came to the top of a hill from whence they could look out over the whole city. Centan, which was built around the Midthalon River, was carefully planned down to the very brick, so that everywhere one looked they would see order and wisdom. But here houses seemed to trample over one another, some towering over their neighbors while others seemed to be built into the houses surrounding them. She had seen such houses among the mortals of Sunlan, for she had been in the north and she had even known something of the people of Ilvas. But she had never seen a city such that each generation makes its own impression upon the city and bears its own peculiar manner of building - and then passes away rather than perfecting its art.
When at last they came to the Council House, where the elders of the city awaited them, Dalia was surprised to see an elf come running up toward them, panting. It was Lord Pelas.
Agonas followed soon after, hastily but not in a panic as his brother seemed to be.
'What is the meaning of this, Steelsmith?' Pelas demanded with frustration. But before Amro could answer Pelas seemed to come to his senses. 'Forget it,' he breathed in and stood up tall. 'I shall greet the elders myself.' He entered the Council House with Agonas following soon after. Amro stepped aside until all the high elves had passed him, entering only after Rudjan's shadow had vanished into the doorway.
'My lady,' he said with a bow.
Dalia lifted her chin in jest and walked into the house, honestly fearing that the woodwork would give way and fall down atop their heads.
'Do not worry,' Amro said, seeing her fearful demeanor. 'Beauty adds nothing to strength, however desirable it might be on its own.' Dalia took his words to heart; and it became something of a motto among her descendants, when Marin Quendom ascended to rule over the mortals of the very land to which she now came as a guest.
Myths and Legends
The elders of Inklas were men such as Dalia had never imagined could exist. Some of them were young men, strong and lively. But the greater part of them had gray hair, not like the silver hair of the Light elves which was not silver for its age, but by nature. These men were sailors, and their leathery skin looked like the bark of a tree to her eyes.
The Master of the city rose from his seat and welcomed the elves, pointing to a number of empty chairs that were piled in one corner of the Council House. There was a long thin table across the eastern wall behind which sat the elders all in a row. As the elves filed in and took seats, servants appeared from another room bearing jars of wine and bowls of stew on large wooden trays. The food was not what one might receive in the cities of Sunlan, but it was better fare than they had enjoyed while sailing across the empty expanse of the northern sea.
The Master of the city again rose and this time he blessed the food, calling upon the blessing of Envelna, the goddess of the harvest. Amro nodded at the mention of her name, as if he understood something the others had overlooked. Dalia gave him a glance, which he answered by whispering the name, 'Evnai.'
The Master, when he had finished blessing their gathering, sat down again. In his wrinkled left hand he held a small rod of iron. 'It is our custom,' he said softly, directing his words toward Pelas, 'to give to the speaker this scepter. He who bears it not may speak only to request it. I am Ternan. I have fished in these waters from the time of my youth until a decade ago, when my bones became too weak at last to be of use upon the water. Now I make use of another strength - the strength of experience. My own experience, of course, is as nothing before the ancient wisdom of the elves. But nonetheless we must do as we are able.'
The elves nodded, paying close attention to what he said. When he saw that they were attending to his words, he held the scepter in the air. 'Long have we expected to be visited by the people of Sunhost. And long have we prayed to Envelna that when they came it would be for our good and not for our destruction. Behold, a fleet of warships comes to our port - reassure an old man, I beg of you, that you have not come to take what we have, for these four-hundred years now, striven to build.'
'Pelas rose from his seat and walked to the table of the elders. He received the scepter from Ternan's nervous hand and turned so that he could be heard as well by his own servants as by the people of Inklas. The air grew silent as his voice echoed through the meeting hall.
'Men of Inklas,' he began, 'fear not. We come not to trouble your city in any regard, nor to lay claim to the land you till or the seas you fish. Do not think, therefore, that our coming is a coming in peace. Nay, we come for war - even our mightiest elves and servants. We have come to seek a legend and a myth, and to make war against the devil of the sea, and the prowler of the earth - the beasts who rule over the elements.'
Pelas breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the terror in the eyes of the elders. One man quickly excused himself and darted out the back of the room. 'Then they know something of these creatures,' Agonas thought to himself. 'Still, brother, you might have queried them without risking humiliation…'
He quickly returned the scepter to Ternan, whose hands shook as he received it. He passed it immediately to the left where it passed from hand to hand all the way to the very last seat. There sat a wicked looking sailor with a messy red beard. Pelas had never seen hair of that hue before, and let out a silent gasp at the sight of it.
The sailor rose to his feet. He wore a dark wool coat with silver buttons and a golden pin was clasped to his breast. The left arm of his coat hung limp at his side; it was not until he began to struggle with the pin on his breast with only his right arm for assistance that Dalia realized his other limb was missing. She gasped at the sight, never having seen such a thing in Sunlan. Amro quickly hushed her.
He removed the pin and cast it down the table toward the Master Ternan. It slid and rolled across the wood coming to a halt just below Pelas' nose. Looking at the pin he found that it was a crudely wrought broach formed into a serpent.
'Is this the Beast of the sea?' Pelas asked, looking the man in the eyes.
'Nay,' the man shivered. Somehow the fear he displayed in his voice didn't seem to render him a coward in the eyes of the elves. It seemed to them, as they watched him describe the beast, that to be able to speak of the monster without shedding a river of tears and without going mad at the sound of your own voice was a sort of courage rarely to be found in the world. 'It is not a Beast. It is all beasts - it is greater and wiser than the Aguians, more fierce than the sharks, larger than the whales, more armored than a turtle and larger than a school of fish. Every nightmare of the sea is born from him, and to see him is to see death. If you mean to slay him, then you truly must deem yourselves to be gods, even as it is reported of the lords of Sunhost.'
Pelas overlooked this last insult, fixing his eyes upon the man's missing arm. 'Where can it be found?'
'Where can it not be found?' the man laughed.
'What is your name?' Pelas demanded.
'Marnos,' the man curtly replied.
'Hear me now, for I shall only speak so plainly to you this once.'
Marnos nodded grimly.
'I am Lord Pelas Parganascon, son of he who slew the gods of Vitiai. I am lord of Ilvas and keeper of the waters of Sunlan, from whence rules your goddess Envelna. I do not set myself to any task so that a mortal can gainsay it. Fear this beast if you will - I fear it as well. But I shall kill it, and it shall trouble men no longer. Laugh if you must; curse if you must, but you cannot change what Fate has decreed.'
Marnos seemed to
accept, then, that his words would not dissuade these people from their foolish quest. 'I see,' he answered. After a pause and a sigh he said, 'The Serpent cannot be found; yet it has no trouble finding men. It is the lord of pride, however, and accepts no rivals. This fleet of warships might, if any such gathering of wood, blood and clay can, perchance lure his fell body from the depths. Howbeit, the Serpent does not approach the land - that is the dominion of the Beast of Earth, and it has been prophesied that only the Beast can slay the Serpent and only the Serpent can slay the Beast.
'Go into deep waters; waters where no bottom can be discovered, and where the black abyss of Abbon Don stares into your soul - and there wait for his wrath. May Envelna save your souls from the pit; for she shall not save your flesh - the Serpent is lord over the waters.'
It was soon clear to the elders that the elves and their warships were truly in their waters for the sake of this fateful hunt, and not as conquerors or spies. This livened the mood a bit, and more wine was served along with better food. Tales were exchanged, songs were sung, and discussions of the most important matters were set aside for a while. The prospect of supplying the food and water for so many vessels put the Master of Inklas in a cheery mood. Inklas did well in its commerce with the other cities in Tel Arie, but the coming of the elves of Sunlan would provide them with a great deal of gold. 'And more if we return successful,' Pelas promised carelessly. At this the men cheered, though none of them believed that he would return in such a manner. 'He may come back broken, humbled and weary of the fruitless chase,' Ternan thought, 'but he shall not return having slain the Serpent.'
The Decision
The elves and their servants were provided with comfortable apartments for the next three days as they made preparations for their journey. Their beds were soft and warm compared to those which they had aboard their ships. In the morning they ate a good breakfast of eggs and slender strips of steak. There was also an abundance of bread, toasted and with a dark yellow cheese melted atop it.
In the evening they met with several of the elders of Inklas, including the old sailor Marnos. They were brought to the Northsea Inn and served a dinner of fish stew and biscuits.
Agonas, however, spent his day at the docks of the city, questioning the sailors about the lands south of Inklas.
Ere their ships could be outfitted, Pelas and Agonas were faced with an important decision. Marnos, who had been ordered to help them in any way he was able, insisted that the safest route to water such as he described would be to the east. 'If you sail around Olgrost to the Vestron lands, staying clear of the eastern coast of course, you will by and by come to deeper waters.'
'Why must we avoid the western coast?' Falruvis asked him.
'They say there was a mountain that reached to the very heavens, Marnos answered. 'But the people who dwelt there shook their fists at the gods and prepared to make war against the stars. In retribution, the gods sundered the mountains and cast its remains into the sea. Now there is naught but spires and jagged spikes jutting from the waters. There are no men, either of this or any other land, who know how to navigate those perilous waters. Sail out to the east for at least a hundred leagues from the coast before you turn toward the south.'
'And this Serpent,' Falruvis continued his questions, 'it will not come to us in the north?'
'It may,' Marnos answered, 'It may. But it prefers warmer waters.' He looked slightly nervous as he continued. 'The Serpent does not fear elves any more than men; and men have sailed these waters for longer. He will not go to the north to find you.'
'But if we were men, you say he would come to us?' Falruvis asked curiously.
'Perhaps,' Marnos replied. Then he chuckled, 'Listen to you! You speak as though his actions must be as predictable as a man's deeds!'
'Are man's deeds so predictable?' Pelas asked, smiling slightly.
'You tell me, master elf,' Marnos said politely. 'When next you stand at the bow of your ship, looking into the rushing waves. Next time you see how easily you might leap therein and perish. Next time you are but a moment separated from death, think on this: How could you ever trust any man, least of all yourself, to stand in such a perilous state, separated from death by naught but your own will, if it were not so that his actions were predictable, and predictable to such an extent that you will stand teetering on the very edge of death without fear or sweat - for you know that for all its possibility, you will never leap.'
'But a man may fear an accident,' Dalia chimed in, surprised at herself for speaking. Every eye turned to her, for of all the elf-maids in Sunlan, her voice was the most lovely. Her face turned red and she looked down at the table, hoping to vanish into her wooden chair.
'Indeed, my lady' Marnos answered kindly, the roughness of his demeanor seeming to fade as he looked upon her. 'But it is the accident he fears, not his own person, which follows certain laws, even as the rest of nature.'
'You have spoken of the east as the safer route,' Aebral interrupted, returning the conversation to the the point, 'but as yet you have not explained your reasons. There must be some ground for your judgment.'
'To the west, and south around the land of Dominas, you will come to Lapulia.'
'Yes?' Pelas said, obviously in frustration. 'And what of Lapulia? What else is there to fear in those waters?'
At his question all motion in the Inn seemed to stop. There were a few incredulous chuckles, quickly silenced by Marnos' ferocious glance. 'My apologies,' Marnos quickly said, hoping to draw the elf-lord's attention back to himself and away from those who had mocked him.
'Tell me about Lapulia,' Pelas said sharply, and then, speaking so all could hear, he said, 'and then I shall tell you of the halls of Ijjan in Sunlan, which gleam like the sun. Or perhaps I shall tell you of King Parganas in the west, who sits in a palace wrought with stones from God's own mountain. Or perhaps I shall tell you of the Utter North, where the Dragon once dwelt. Mock me for knowing little of your lands, and I shall mock you a hundred times for your ignorance. For even as your knowledge is less than mine, so also are your wonders.'
There was some movement from some parts of the inn, as men rose from their seats, left through the door, and otherwise reacted to his words. For a moment Dalia was afraid that a fight would break out. In such a conflict the elves would doubtless prove the victors; but then they would have to reach their ships ere the city guard could detain them. They were mighty warriors all, but they could not slay a whole city by themselves.
'Calm yourselves,' Marnos said, addressing the rest of the inn. Then, turning toward Lord Pelas with a penitent face, he said, 'I beg your forgiveness, my lord. If we were able we would host you in the Council House. But we have not the means therein to house and feed lords such as yourself. Please do not let the foolishness of these men reflect badly upon our city. We are a thick-headed folk.'
'All is forgiven, Marnos, elder of Inklas,' Pelas said politely, relaxing in his seat again. 'All shall be forgotten.' And he looked so at ease that Marnos truly believed him. In truth, Marnos' talk about men and their motives had deeply affected him. For he took it in confirmation of that Fate which he believed ever guided him. 'I cannot err,' he thought to himself, 'For I know what I have willed, and my will is the will that moves the world itself.'
'Nonetheless,' Marnos said meekly, with a voice that was almost too gentle for a sailor, 'Lapulia is no trifle. It is an ancient place, where magic of all sorts is practiced. It is a dark city, and a perilous sea surrounds it - perilous not for its waters, but for its masters. The Lapulians do not take kindly to intrusion; nor will they permit a fleet such as yours to dock in their harbors. Even if they left you to pass untroubled through their seas, you would not reach open waters ere your supplies ran out. For the cities of the coast are loyal to them, and would not help you if their masters in the Magic Tower gave them not leave.'
'Is there no reasoning with the people of this city?' Pelas asked. 'And what shall they do to us,
and our mighty fleet. All the might of Sunlan is against them; what have they?'
'They have the Magi,' Marnos answered curtly.
From Marnos and from others the elves could learn very little of consequence concerning Lapulia. Or, properly speaking, they could receive very little. It is not as though the men of Inklas did not give them sound council or adequate warning. But there was little talk in the way of magic in the North, so they could only think of the witches of the Lupith, the star watchers of the Knariss and the prophets of the Essenes. The elves did not dabble in such trickery, however, and held in contempt those who believed in such powers. 'They do not know who we are,' Pelas said, condescendingly, when at last the elves were left to themselves in the empty inn. The keeper had turned in and, despite his reluctance, permitted the guests of Master Ternan to remain until they should see fit to leave. By the light of a single lantern they held council. 'If they understood us, they would not fear for us, but rather for these wizards of Lapulia.'
'Still,' Amro suggested, 'they have more experience in these waters. We ought not forget that.'
Pelas looked at him with anger, 'And you think that I, who have led the high elves from Thedul to Evnai, and increased them in might and number a hundred times over, have neglected to consult with common sense. It is common sense to believe the words of the wise,' he said, in a calmer tone, 'But it is also common sense to receive the words of the superstitious with care. For the words of careless thinkers are as perilous as they are prone to falsity.'
Amro nodded, and said nothing more that evening.
'We should sue for peace with the Lapulians,' Falruvis said, as if he spoke for Lord Pelas, 'and if they will not receive us, then they will ever regret setting themselves against our will.'
Pelas nodded approvingly, adding, 'If they fight against us, then we shall not only destroy them at sea, but we will, with our mighty men of arms, wound their very city. And then men will not hide at the mention of THEIR name!'
The elves were in agreement with him, save for Agonas, who had arrived only after Marnos and the other elders of Inklas had already left. He said, 'If I were alone the judge, I would avoid Lapulia; the sailors of Inklas know the ways of the eastern sea, and how to sail therein. But they know nothing of Lapulia - and if they know something, then it is as they have said: The city is a great peril to us. I would rather sail during the day in dangerous seas than blind in waters I know nothing about. I trust my judgment in adversity greater than my instinct in the unknown.'
'You have command of a ship, brother,' Pelas laughed. 'Sail east, then, and we shall see who finds the Serpent first.'
'I do not think that I shall seek the Serpent,' Agonas answered.
At this all movement ceased and the whole room fell silent. Every eye turned to him. He laughed.
'You know, brother, that I have no great love for the sea. There is another beast to find, and I will seek it elsewhere. The men of Inklas spake of Kharku in the south, whence the dwarves live. There are many mighty beasts in that land, some they say are as large as a warship. I will sail there myself and make an end of that legend, even as you will make an end to the beast of the Sea.'
'It is fitting,' Pelas said, accepting this turn as the prompting of Fate. But in his own heart he felt a surge of anger and jealousy. 'Does he wish,' Pelas thought fearfully, 'to rob me of glory?' It did not occur to him that his brother, being his equal, might say the same of him for assuming command over the whole fleet of Sunlan. But Pelas could not order or compel Agonas to do anything. Therefore he said, 'Then go with my blessing to Kharku, and we shall share our tales in Sunlan when our deeds are done!'
Thus the brothers parted for a time; and this was the last time that they parted from one another as friends. When morning came and Agonas departed into the rising sun, Pelas felt an ache in his heart - the last longing he ever felt for his brother's company.