Von

Despite their best efforts, the Elders avoided meeting Von for three days. Three days to think of a way out of hiring him as champion, no doubt. Three days of allowing him to heal. Three days of forcing him to keep his men under control. It had been getting rough. His men had been getting unruly, though most elves remained inside their houses as much as they could and this kept confrontation to a minimum. But the more time passed, the more they started to go on with their daily lives.

The Third Elder spoke first. “Pertaining to the matter of your abilities, we believe that the last duel cleared us of our concerns. It will be an honor to have you as our champion.”

“Bosque calls for help, Stormkeep is glad to answer,” Von replied.

The Second Elder coughed. “Not Stormkeep—Von of Redgrave. We do not accept aid from the princedom, but from the prince.”

“I am no prince, dear Elder, but your distinction is noted.” He fears that the Stormlands might ask the King of Princes for claim on the Woodlands. It was a fair fear, if a pointless one. Right now the Woodlands was in disarray and most of its cities were in ruins, only functioning due to aid from King’s Heart. Both the Stormlands to the west and Eldland to the east already managed too much of the Woodlands out of necessity. To be frank, if either of us asked the King of Princes for a claim, he would probably sigh a breath of relief knowing he would not have to waste his coffers keeping the princedom afloat any longer.

In truth, it was weakness that kept the Woodlands safe more than its strength. Eldland had been boldly expanding its border, but it likely would stop there. The nearest city they could take is Museu and that’s more ruin than city. It would cost them more to keep the place afloat than they would gain from the territory.

Still, the Elders do not see it that way. They think they still have the might to protect themselves from their neighbors.

“Two other matters need to be settled,” Von demanded. “The first relates to my guest, Talla of Bosque. Our deal stipulated that you would volunteer the name of the one who organized the title transfer while she was away.” He regarded them carefully, one by one. “Which one of you was it?”

There was no hesitation. “It was I,” said the First Elder. He appeared wholly unconcerned. “Will you demand satisfaction for the slight? Do not overstep your boundaries, Redgrave. Your definition of guest stretches by the day. Champion Talla’s causes any more and we will start to suspect you use our noble lady as justification for conflict. Push us, and we will push you back.”

Your army barely exists, your threats are fangless. We needn’t even concern ourselves with the possibility. Stormkeep had planned for it, of course, but every wargame ended the same way. The Woodlands’ army would die to the cold before it could do much. The Storms themselves would protect the Stormlands. Their nearest target is Stormhelm, and to attack our capital with their numbers would be sheer insanity. Detour from that path, and they would find themselves flanked. Even that sounded too generous of an assessment. He doubted the elven army had much power at all, and his visit to Bosque only reinforced that decision. Two capitals should be that close to each other. It’s madness. Desperation, more like it. Bosque had become their capital after Docas had proved too costly to maintain, and

“I will not demand satisfaction, dear Elders. That is Talla’s right, and I will not take it away from her.” She had spoken with him about this earlier—and frankly, her plans scared him slightly. “Nonetheless, I will demand satisfaction for another matter. Bosque has signed a treaty regarding keeping Deathless Elves in their territory, but we were ambushed by one before we so much as left the Stormlands. We returned him to you, bound and unharmed.” To a degree.

The Second Elder nodded. “Aye, you did. What of it, then? You returned him to us. The matter is settled.”

“He killed one of my men.”

“You have our deepest apologies, Lord of Stormkeep.” The elf lowered his voice, and to his credit sounded regretful about the incident. “It should not have occurred. We will put the man in charge of the Deathless prison to the sword.”

Von stepped forward and closed his eyes for a moment to focus himself. Be strong. Be a lord. “Apologies will not bring back the dead, dear Elder.”

The Third Elder raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “And I suppose,” he said in a sly tone, “my lord mayhap fancies himself an alchemist of legend? Has Stormkeep mastered the ability to turn gold into life?”

“Nay, dear Elder. No amount of coin will bring him back to life.”

“Then—”

“But it will bring his siblings bread in the morning, and fire in the night. It will bring them peace, until they are of age to work. It will give them a chance to mourn without worrying about their purses.” Von looked each of them in the eye. “I ask not for the red, but for the golden. Blood needs not to be drawn over this. But gold is necessary.”

The Fourth Elder was red-faced and agitated in his seat, scrambling forward and demanding to be heard. “We know the Stormlands are poor, but to demand coin from us? My lord, you have seen the state of our streets. Would you have us feed your man’s family instead of feeding our people? You can surely afford to do so yourself.”

“It is not a matter of affording. It is a matter of honor.” His father’s words rang in his head. Do what is just, not what is easy. Be a lord. “You wounded that Stormener family, and honor demands you satisfy this. It would bring my men eternal shame if they died under the service of Stormkeep and were to have their family fed by Stormener coin. The honor of my dead man demands that those guilty for his death pay for it.” Von tossed a parchment over the circular desk, landing it right before the Fourth Elder. “This is what you will pay the family. Thirty years worth of his payment at Stormkeep, for that is how long he needed before retirement, and five more years for the pain of having lost their beloved brother. My princedom will ensure they are given the gold in installments over the years so as to not make them targets for bandits.”

The Fourth Elder threw the parchment aside, his sharp ears growing red. “This is absurd! You cannot expect that amount of gold over a servant. It was red blood we shed, not blue. To demand such is—”

Von stripped off his shirt and pounded his right hand against his bandaged left shoulder, causing the wound to reopen slightly, and blood to flow from his shoulder down to the floor. “Flower it as you’d like, my heart beats red blood through my veins same as Jonathan’s. His blood means no less than mine beneath the storm.”

“We will not pay such a ridiculous sum over a servant!” the Fourth Elder exclaimed, bringing his fist against the table. “Perhaps a smaller amount can be negotiated, but this—even a tenth of this is too much! Give his brats a year to recollect themselves, they can begin working after that.”

Von’s hand fell to his sword. “You mistake me, my lord,” he said, in a low voice that yet echoed across the Green Hall. “This is not a proposal.”

His hand reached for the grip on his sword and there was no movement to break the deathly silence. This savage stillness forced even the Fourth Elder to lean backward and hold his breath. “Be reasonable, my lord. You would not shed your people’s blood over a single servant,” he replied, quietly.

For a moment he wanted to back down. Be a lord. “Aye, my lord. I would not.” His thumb pushed the sword handle just slightly out of its sheath and he did not look away. “But mayhap I would shed yours.”

There was a long silence.

Finally, the Third Elder said, “You spoke of deferring your Champion’s payment until Vandyr is slain—does that offer still stand?”

“Aye, dear Elder.”

The Third Elder nodded. “Would you kindly extend that to a year after Vandyr’s defeat? I ask this not as a condition, but as a facilitator. This much coin might not seem large to you, my lord, but our economy balances itself on a razor’s edge. Our monthly operations are quite difficult, and a small assurance like that makes us more likely to trust you.”

The Fourth Elder turned to his companion, flabbergasted. “You can’t mean—”

The Third went on as if he had not heard the objection. “Von of Redgrave?”

Discord among them, Von noted. A calm discord. “That can be arranged, my lord.” He considered this. “In addition, if Bosque can keep Deathless Elves from the Stormlands for a year, additional aid can be provided to aid your reconstruction efforts.”

The Third Elder nodded amusedly. “You have the authority for that suggestion?”

“Aye. My noble brother sent me a raven offering me as much.” I would have the authority regardless, as Second Lord. But it was always possible that his brother would overrule his offer. “What say you?’

The Fourth Elder grunted. “You demand coin from us, yet you offer us coin in the future? You lack in logic, my lord.”

“Yet they are plentiful in righteousness. Pay back the family of the man your mistakes killed. We will not let you succumb to tragedy at our doorstep.” Von slammed his sword back in its sheath. “But deny honor, and you will succumb to our steel. What will it be?”

Talla

The two of them walked away from the Elders in silence. Until they could not be overheard, at least. It is good that Kai wasn’t present today. He would have flown into a rage at that. They did not make their way back to the Wintery camp nor did they make their way toward Talla’s home—she had a place in mind and was more than willing to guide Von there. It is eerie still…not to see anyone out in the streets. She had hardly seen a soul since arriving. They had likely been hiding indoors in the presence of humans, and the few elves she spotted avoided her when they saw her beside Von. It is what it is.

Von said suddenly, “Do you think my words were harsh, my fair lady?” There was more than hesitance to his voice, there was a certain fear. “I promise you that I would not…” His words died and she knew why. He wants to promise me he would not lead his troops down here, but he cannot. A lord had his duty after all. “It is not my desire to attack Bosque. I promise you. I do not greed for your lands.”

Why should you? They are ravaged by our ghostly kind. “A few weeks ago, perhaps I would have feared your declaration. Been upset by it. Now…” She continued her pace, but her eyes were aimed low. “Perhaps there is some truth to the elders’ concerns that exposure to the outside world will have you turn against tradition. Then again,” she said, bitterly, “I have never been enamored with our situation.”

“You have not?” Von asked. His tone was respectful, but curious.

“The Elders are blinded by stories of our past. They think our kind is the same as it always was, proudly sharing all of Mundo with giants and dwarves. But that was long ago. First came the demons, then came the wolves, then…the humans.” She smiled a little at the end, and Von smiled back. “We control a single princedom out of six in the continent, and even that we hold on almost as a cruel joke over anything else. Every day, more of our people succumb to this curse. And the ones that don’t have to put up with the Elders’ restrictions and demands.” She shook her head. “Why can’t we trade with the dwarves? It’s lunacy.”

“It does make life inconvenient, my lady,” Von said reluctantly. “Stormeners would appreciate being able to trade with dwarves by land. As it stands, Mad Harbor is our only access to it, and sea trade is quite difficult during winter.”

Talla let out a sigh of annoyance. “I know. But they insist that dwarves are our enemies and refuse trade—why?” It was sheer stubbornness. They cling on to a long faded legend. They can’t accept that we cannot exist by ourselves anymore. “Quite frankly, if you were to march in with your troops tomorrow and claim Bosque as part of the Stormlands, I am not entirely certain you would be met with much resistance.”

“My lady?”

“When armies invade, they burn it all to the ground. They raze down villages, burn down trees, and pillage whatever they can find. I know that. But for some…” She hesitated. “They do not think of it that way. They grow tired of the Elders’ leadership and would forego autonomy if given assurances of bread during winter, if they could be allowed to dream of the luxuries we only read about.” Talla paused, then quickly added, “Make no mistake, my lord—there are those that value our history and beliefs more than our survival. And to be frank, they still outnumber those who don’t. Throw in together the mutual dislike between elves and humans and I dare not think this land could be ruled by one. Not peacefully. Not ever.”

Von nodded. “Aye, my lady. Nor I nor my noble brother have ever considered otherwise. We rule over the storms—and that is enough for us.”

I almost wish it wasn’t, Talla thought bitterly. Mad thoughts, these. Just frustration speaking. “In all likelihood, Lord Cyawin is more likely to take over.”

“Lord?” The word appeared to pique his curiosity. “I was under the belief elves had no lords. Not ever.”

Talla considered how to respond to this. It was a simple matter in her head, but how did you explain it to someone who hadn’t lived through it? “We had lords, once. When the Laeron the First Ruler, King of Princes, first claimed the woodlands, he deposed the Elders and knighted his elven commander, Marle the Betrayer—you know him as Marle the Brilliant—with the title. Our people were not fond of this, and soon after Marle the Betrayer reinstated the Eldership system—albeit with him occupying the entire council by himself until his death. It was a nominal change until more could be brought to the position and…well. It worked in keeping people content.”

Von continued to study her expression carefully but asked no more questions. Despite his curiosity, he refuses to pressure me for more? This was mildly amusing. She continued on regardless. “Marle’s descendants continued to style themselves after the title, even if it meant nothing. Cyawin, however…he is a merchant. As rich as this city, or more, for whatever that’s worth. If you ask me his plan was to take over the princedom after Kai slayed Vandyr.”

“Why would Kai’s slaying of Vandyr matter?”

“Because Kai is his son.”

Von’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open for just a moment, then he nodded in silent acknowledgement.

“I imagine he will take it over at some point regardless, Von. Perhaps you ought to get more knowledgeable about elven culture, it may be that soon you will have to deal with Cywin instead of the Elders as Lord of Stormkeep.”

“Aye, my fair lady.” He turned to her with a surprisingly serious expression. “Thank you for keeping me informed. I neglected many of my lordly studies while staying in my room, and I focused on the blade after waking up. My efforts were the best I could manage, yet I have many blind spots.”

He is too serious. It confused Talla a lot. Despite hiding in his room for most of his life, Von was an extremely fast learner and hard worker now that he had decided to come out of it. What motivated him to change so much? Or perhaps…the question I should ask myself is what motivated him to stay in his room for so long. That was not a concern for the now, however. “We are here,” she announced, “the crystal lake.”

Still protected by the walls, yet surrounded by a labyrinth of trees, laid the crystal lake. Perhaps it would have been better to refer to it as a pond, yet no one did so. Many years before, the aqueducts had chipped just enough to provide something of a waterfall toward the ground, and the Elders did little to fix it. Some astute youngsters dug deep enough for it to turn into a ‘lake’ and it soon became one of the city’s most beautiful locations.

And one of the most regulated.

“When we were little, Kai and I used to play here,” Talla said, laughing at the memory. “It was one of our favorite places. Yet, as we grew older, we could no longer swim together. The Elders placed a ban on male and female elves being around the river together. They said it fostered bad morals in us.”

Von nodded slowly. “And we have come here, because…”

“Because you are not an elven male,” she said, laughing. “And because frankly, if I go ahead with my plans, I do not think I will be returning here any time soon. So it seemed fitting to bid farewell to one of my favorite places.” She paused. “And I wanted you to see this place, too. So that you knew that my hometown was beautiful, once. That it is more than ruins.”

“My lady, I would never think otherwise.” Von looked to the ground. “Do you mean to go ahead with your plans?”

“Aye, my lord.”

There was a silence. “It is true that Rei forsook the title after our match, yet—”

Talla splashed water on his face. Von paused, appearing so unfamiliar with the experience that he regarded the liquid as if it were something alien. He looked at her as if waiting for an explanation, and was met with more water. “We can plan more later,” she said, smiling. “Just have fun for now.”

“My lady, that’s—ah!” He looked away.

Talla was and wasn’t surprised by his reaction. She was dressed decently, but she had come wearing waterclothes underneath her regular ones—and quite modest ones too. They stopped before her knees, and her loose shirt stopped just before where her shorts began. The most that could be said about it is that it did not have sleeves. Yet wintermen were a curious sort, and given the weather they had likely grown used to not even seeing the hands of those closest to them for the longest time. Even half of my legs showing appears to be disconcerting for him.

“The water is hardly deep. Come on, it will cool your feet if nothing else.”

He flushed, but did not debate the point. He threw his shirt aside, rolled up his trousers to his knees and joined her in the water. Von appeared unfamiliar with the feeling of playing in the water, but he was smiling the whole time, and before long was also throwing water back at her, laughing along all day. This feels nice. I missed this place…how many years has it been since I have been to this lake? Maybe I should have enjoyed it more while I could. The two played in the water for long, talking about unimportant things, sharing stories of their childhood and enjoying the cool breeze beneath the Evertree.

And Talla knew it would be the last time she could enjoy this place. “Thank you for entertaining my whims, my lord. I know it is not within your obligations to indulge your guest to such a degree.”

He frowned at her, on the verge of laughing. “Talla, at this point you are hardly my guest and this is hardly an obligation.” Von regarded her for a moment. “Thank you for showing me this place that meant so much to you.”

“Thank you for coming.” She paused. “I appreciated the company. It helped me not think too much about the fact it might be my last time here.”

The Lord of Stormkeep hesitated. “You are absolutely certain?” he asked again.

She nodded. “Aye. Tomorrow, I will duel the Elder who betrayed me.”

End of Chapter 12,

"But mayhap I would shed yours."