Gulamendis towered over most of the elves he passed, being nearly seven feet in height. His clothes marked him as alien even if his look hadn’t. Nowhere did he match the vivid red colour of his hair. He saw dark red-brown, and many blond elves, but most had brown or dark brown hair; their brows were less arched and their features less finely drawn. To his eye, they were a plain, unappealing people.
The rustic elf took him up a stairway carved out of the living wood of a massive tree, and along branches so wide their backs had been flattened to make boulevards. They climbed upwards, deeper into the forest, until at last they reached a massive platform.
The Demon Master then received an even bigger shock than his first sight of Elvandar’s heart.
Around the edge of the platform sat the council of elves: the spellweavers, the eldar, and many others, but two thrones dominated the centre. The woman who sat in the higher of the two possessed a regal bearing, though by Gulamendis’s standards her robes were simple, and lacked the delicate embellishments he was used to seeing adorn taredhel ladies. Her features were lovely, if a little soft, and she wore a circlet of gold upon her brow.
But it was the being seated next to her who shocked the Demon Master. He sat on a slightly lower throne, but it was clear that he was her Consort. They absently held hands as couples long together do. But he was so much more than that. He was a warrior born, projecting power like no other being the Demon Master had ever encountered. In his bones and to the heart of his being he knew this creature was a Valheru.
‘Welcome,’ said the Queen. ‘We would know your name and from whence you come.’
Softly, without taking his eyes from the man next to the Queen, he said, ‘I am Gulamendis, my lady. I am a Demon Master of the Clans of the Seven Stars. I come seeking . . . ‘ He stopped and looked around, feeling both drawn to these people and repulsed by them. There was something profoundly familiar about them, yet there was so much that he didn’t understand. Finally he said, ‘I seek your help.’
‘How may we aid you?’ asked the Elf Queen, but she glanced at her companion.
Taking a breath, Gulamendis said, ‘Our lore tells us we came from this place in the days of madness, when the gods fought in the heavens above.’ His eyes locked with those of the Queen’s Consort. ‘We fled from this place, across a bridge to the stars, and we abided there for a long time.’
A robed elf stood and said, ‘As did my people, Gulamendis. We were lorekeepers, the eldar, and we abided for centuries upon another world before returning here.’
‘Cousin,’ said Gulamendis, ‘we were once eldar, too, according to our lore. We took the name "The Clans of the Seven Stars" and now call ourselves taredhel.’
Then the Valheru spoke. ‘You departed before the war’s end?’
Gulamendis nodded, fearful of speaking to him. These creatures of legend were the ultimate masters of the People, and to find one here was terrifying.
‘I am Tomas, Warleader of Elvandar,’ said the man, standing. When he approached, Gulamendis could see there was something different about him. ‘I wear the mantle of one lost ages past, and I bear his memories, but I am more than him. I will tell you that tale at length some other time, but for now you must hear this from me: you are a free people. So it was said at the time of the Chaos Wars, and it as true now. Abide and rest, and share with us your story, Gulamendis of the taredhel, for you have found friends here if you would have us.’
Despite being nearly half a head taller than Tomas, Gulamendis felt small in his presence. He didn’t fully understand the meaning of his words, but found them reassuring. If this was indeed a Valheru, he claimed no dominion over these people, or the taredhel.
Then a strange odour registered on the Demon Master’s senses. He had also smelled it as he passed though the human town. It was a weed they burned and inhaled. He glanced at the throne and then realized that a small figure stood in its shadow. An old dwarf with near-white hair stepped forward and, fixing Gulamendis with a sceptical look, took a long pull on his pipe.
The dwarf said, ‘It’s about time you showed up, lad. We carried them word of you nearly a month back; I was growing tired of waiting.’
Tomas smiled and the Queen laughed, her green eyes merry, but the Demon Master was unsettled. They knew he was coming? How? Three weeks ago he was in a cage, as his brother bargained for his life.
Gulamendis hid his confusion and nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to smile at a dwarf. He turned to the Elf Queen and said, ‘My lady, I am bereft of wits and in need of rest and food. If we could speak tomorrow, I will give a better account of myself.’