“Of what, Tathar?” asked the Elf Queen.
Tathar said, “We have labored long to bring a peaceful, secure ending to this business of Tomas. It is known by all here that our arts were turned to calming the rage within, softening the might of the Valheru, so the young man who was transformed would not be overwhelmed in the course of time.”
He paused, and Martin leaned close to Tomas. “Trouble.”
Tomas startled him with a slight smile and a wink. Once more Martin was reassured that the mirthful boy he had known in Crydee was as much present in this young man as the Dragon Lord. “Everything will be fine,” said Tomas in a whisper.
“We have,” said Tathar, “come to judge this business done, for Tomas is no longer to be feared as an Old One.”
Aglaranna said, “That is happy news indeed. But is this then cause for a council?”
“No, lady. Something else must also be laid to rest. For while we no longer fear Tomas, still we will not place ourselves under his rule.”
Aglaranna stood, outrage clear upon her face. “Who dares to presume this? Has there been a single word from any to suggest that Tomas seeks to rule?”
Tathar stood firm before his Queen’s displeasure. “My lady, you see with a lover’s eyes.” Before she could answer, he held up his hand. “Speak not sharp words with me, daughter of my oldest friend; I make no accusations. That he shares your bed is no one’s concern save yourself. We begrudge you nothing. But he now has the means of a claim, and we would have the matter settled now.”
Aglaranna paled, and Tomas stepped forward. “What means?” he said, his voice commanding.
Tathar looked slightly surprised. “She carries your child. Did you not know?”
Tomas was bereft of words. Conflicting feelings ran through him. A child! Yet he had not been told. He looked at Tathar “How do you know?”
Tathar smiled, and there was no mockery in it. “I am old, Tomas I can see the signs.”
Tomas looked to Aglaranna. “It is true?”
She nodded. “I would not tell you until it was no longer possible to hide the truth.”
He felt a stab of uncertainty. “Why?”
“To spare you any worry. Until the war is through, you must put your mind to nothing else. I would not burden you with other thoughts.”
Tomas stood quietly for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed, a clear, joyous sound. “A child Praise the gods!”
Tathar looked thoughtfully at Tomas. “Do you claim the throne?”
“Aye, I do, Tathar,” Tomas said, a smile upon his face.
Calin spoke for the first time. “It is my inheritance, Tomas. You will have to contest with me for it.”
Tomas smiled at Calin. “I will not cross swords with you, son of my beloved.”
“If you seek to be King among us, then you must.”
Tomas walked over to Calin. There had never been any affection between them, for more than the others, Calin had feared Tomas’s potential threat to his people and now stood ready to fight if need be.
Tomas placed his hand upon Calin’s shoulder and looked deeply into his eyes. “You are Heir. I speak not of being your King.” He stepped away and addressed the council. “I am what you see before you, a being of two heritages. I possess the power of the Valheru, though I was not born to it, and my mind remembers ages long gone to dust. But I can remember a boy’s memories and can again feel the joy in laughter and a lover’s touch.” He looked at the Elf Queen. “I claim only the right to sit beside my Queen, with your blessings, as her consort. I will take only what rule she and you give, nothing more. Should you give none, still I will remain at her side.” Then, with firmness, he added, “But I will not stand down from this: our child shall have a heritage unblemished by a sinister birth.”
There was a general murmur of approval, and Tomas faced Aglaranna. “If you will take me as husband?” he said in the ancient elven language.
Aglaranna sat with eyes gleaming. She looked to Tathar “I will. Is there any who denies me the right?”
Tathar looked around at the other councillors. Seeing no dissension, Tathar said, “It is permitted, my lady.”
Abruptly there was a shout of approval from the gathered elves, and soon others were coming to investigate the unusual display of activity in the council. They in turn joined in the celebration, for all knew of the Queen’s love for the warrior in white and gold, and they judged him a fit consort.
Calin said, “You are wise in our ways, Tomas. Had you done otherwise, there would have been strife, or lingering doubt. I thank you for your prudence.”
Tomas took his hand in a firm grip. “It is only just, Calin. Your claim is without question. When your Queen and I have journeyed to the Blessed Isles, then our child will be your loyal subject.”