‘Her Consort?’ He glanced around. ‘There is no king?’
‘Her King made his journey to the Blessed Isle many years ago, and to ensure his son inherits, her second husband rejected the crown. Prince Calen will rule in Elvandar after his mother.’
The Regent Lord said, ‘Odd. One would expect any elf would aspire to rule in Elvandar.’
Gulamendis could already see the Regent Lord’s mind turning. If he could somehow rid the world of this Consort, he would be the logical suitor for the Elf Queen’s hand, after a suitable period of mourning, of course. Long before departing on this journey, Gulamendis has begun to suspect that the strain of the thirty-year war, of losing so many close companions, of watching his People being systematically obliterated, had taken its toll on the Regent Lord. Having seen the Elf Queen, Tomas, Pug, and others, he was now certain: the Regent Lord was unfit to rule, perhaps he was even mad.
The jest between himself and his brother, their subversive prescription, now seemed too light; an act of treason was closer to what the taredhel needed. Gulamendis generally lacked the nobility of spirit he had felt in Tomas, who he sensed would gladly give up his life to defend Elvandar, but at that moment, if he’d seen an opportunity to end his People’s suffering and kill the Regent, he thought he would have.
But the wards already in place, to guard against the coming of the Demon Legion or others, were just as effective against Gulamendis’s powers. Perhaps one of the human magicians could turn this hall into a fire pit before the Regent’s guards reacted, but Gulamendis knew he would be dead before he was halfway through a summoning.
Mustering up the courage to say what needed to be said, Gulamendis spoke softly: ‘He’s not an elf, my lord.’
The Regent Lord blinked, as if confounded by his own senses. ‘What?’ he asked.
‘I said the Queen’s Consort is not an elf.’
With a tone bordering on outright revulsion, the Regent Lord said, ‘What is he?’
Calmly, Gulamendis said, ‘He was born human.’
Anger rose up in the Regent Lord and he said, ‘Whatever claim she may have held to the most noble line in our ancestry is fouled by such a mating. A human!’
Taking a deep breath, Gulamendis said, ‘I said he was born a human, my lord, but today he is far more than that. He wears the armour of an Ancient One.’
The Regent Lord looked as if Gulamendis had struck him a blow across the face. Almost whispering, he said, ‘He dares?’
‘There’s more,’ said Gulamendis, judging it time to give the full truth and hope that the Regent Lord continued to be stunned enough not to feel the need to affix blame to the messenger. Glossing over the very complex story Tomas had told him, Gulamendis said, ‘He was gifted the armour by the greatest of the great golden dragons in reward for some great deed.’ He knew it was false, but he needed to glorify Tomas as much as possible to prepare the Regent Lord for the shock of meeting him. ‘The armour’s magic transformed the human, and now he does more than carry Ashen-Shugar’s shield, he carries his . . . his powers. In all but heart and spirit, he is Valheru.’ He had at the last moment decided to omit the fact that Tomas held the Ancient One’s memories.
The Regent Lord was reeling. He looked around the nearly completed meeting hall and moved to the large chair set on a small dais, and slowly lowered himself into it.
Of all the possibilities he had prepared for since Laromendis had discovered this world, this was one he never considered. They had feared the Valheru might have survived the Chaos Wars, but when Gulamendis’s brother made no mention of them, that fear had vanished. But now, suddenly, it returned, yet it was tempered by the fact that the Demon Master was bringing greetings.
‘Tell me of him,’ whispered the Regent Lord, and Gulamendis knew his life was safe for the moment. He spoke about Tomas, changing the story of the boy lost in the cave - omitting any mention of the dwarf king - to the tale of a brave lad seeking to destroy an evil demon, which resonated well with the Meeting.
After Gulamendis finished, the Regent Lord asked, ‘This human turned Ancient One, he does not seek to rule?’
‘It is most strange,’ said Gulamendis carefully, ‘but he seems content to protect Elvandar and leave command to his wife, the Queen.’ The Demon Master slightly emphasized her title, again reminding the Regent Lord that the old ties need never be forgotten. The elves of Elvandar might be rustics in the eyes of the taredhel, but they were blood kin, and after the losses suffered against the demons, they needed as many kin as could be mustered. After the Demon Legion had been confronted, then the Regent Lord could worry about ruling this world.