Almost with a note of amusement, Tomas said, “Before that, lady, from the first I gazed upon you.” He stood tall over her. “And why may this thing not be? Who better to sit at your side?”
She moved away from him, her control lost for a brief moment. In that instant he saw what few had ever seen: the Elf Queen confused and unsure, doubting her own ancient wisdom. “Whatever else, you are man. Despite what powers are granted you, it is a man’s span allotted to you. I will reign until my spirit travels to the Blessed Isles to be with my lord, who has already made the journey. Then Calin rules, as son of a king, as King. Thus it is with my people.”
Tomas reached for her and turned her to face him. “It was not always so.”
Her eyes showed a spark of fear. “No, we were not always a free people.”
She sensed impatience within him, but she also saw him struggle with it as he forced his voice to calmness. “Do you then feel nothing?”
She took a step away. “I would lie if I said not. But it is a strange pulling, and something that fills me with uncertainty and with no small dread. If you become more the Valheru, more than the man can master, then we could not welcome you here. We would not allow the return of the Old Ones.”
Tomas laughed, with a strange mixture of humor and bitterness. “As a boy I beheld you and was filled with a boy’s longing. Now I am a man and behold you with a man’s longing. Is the power that makes me bold enough to seek you out, the power that gives me the means to do so, that which will also keep us apart?”
Aglaranna put her hand to her cheek. “I know not. It has never been with the royal family to be other than what we are. Others may seek alliance with humans. I would not have that sadness when you are old and grey and I am still as you see me.”
Tomas’s eyes flashed, and his voice gained a harsh edge. “That will never happen, lady I shall live a thousand years in this glade. Of that I have no doubt. But I shall trouble you no more . . . until other matters are settled. This thing is willed by fate to be, Aglaranna. You will come to know that.”
She stood with her hand raised to her mouth, and her eyes moist with emotion. He walked away, leaving her alone in her court to consider what he had said. For the first time since her Lord-King had passed over, Aglaranna knew two conflicting emotions: fear and longing.
Tomas turned at a shout from the edge of the clearing. An elf was walking from the trees followed by a simply dressed man. He stopped his conversation with Calin and Dolgan, and the three hurried to follow the stranger as he was guided up to the Queen’s court. Aglaranna sat on her throne, her elders arranged on benches to either side. Tathar stood next to the Queen.
The stranger approached the throne and made a slight bow. Tathar threw a quick glance at the sentry who had escorted the man, but the elf looked bemused. The man in brown said, “Greetings, lady,” in perfect elvish.
Aglaranna answered in the King’s Tongue. “You come boldly among us, stranger.”
The man smiled, leaning on his staff. “Still, I did seek a guide, for I would not enter Elvandar unbidden.”
Tathar said, “I think yon guide had little choice.”
The man said, “There is always a choice, though it is not always apparent.”
Tomas stepped forward. “What is your purpose here?”
Turning at the voice, the man smiled “Ah! The wearer of the dragon’s gift. Well met, Tomas of Crydee.”
Tomas stepped back. The man’s eyes radiated power, and his easy manner veiled strength that Tomas could feel. “Who are you?”
The man said, “I have many names, but here I am called Macros the Black.” He pointed with his staff and swept it around the gathered watchers. “I have come, for you have embarked upon a bold plan.” At the last, he pointed his staff at Tomas. He dropped the tip and leaned on the staff again. “But the plan to capture a Black Robe will bring naught but destruction to Elvandar should you not have my aid.” He smiled slightly. “A Black Robe you shall have in time, but not yet.” There was a hint of irony in his voice.
Aglaranna arose. Her shoulders were back, and her eyes looked straight into his. “You know much.”
Macros inclined his head slightly “Aye, I know much, more than is sometimes comforting.” He stepped past her and placed a hand upon Tomas’s shoulder. Guiding Tomas to a seat near where the Queen stood, Macros forced him to sit with a gentle pressure on his shoulder. He took a seat next to him and laid the staff against the crook of his neck and shoulder. Looking at the Queen, he said, “The Tsurari come at first light, and they will drive straight through to Elvandar.”
Tathar stepped before Macros and said, “How do you know this?”
Macros smiled again. “Do you not remember me in council with your father?”
Tathar stepped back, his eyes widening. “You . . .”
“I am he, though I am no longer called as I was then.”
Tathar looked troubled. “So long ago. I would not have thought it possible.”