The Elves of Cintra (Book 2 of The Genesis of Shannara)

The King nodded. “You may, First Minister.”


“I think we have heard quite enough,” said the hawk-faced man. “Enough of speculation and wild imaginings. This business of a danger to the Ellcrys and the Elven nation appears to be based entirely on two sources—a boy barely old enough to know his place in our community and this human and her companion. The boy…well, he is just a boy. The young woman and her child companion are unknown to us. There is no hard evidence to confirm what any of them are telling us. We are being asked to change our entire way of life—to move from the Cintra, to uproot the Ellcrys, and to do who knows what else.

Mostly on the word of this young woman. On the word of a human. A human, my lord. When humans have been the cause of so much misery and destruction, I find it difficult to suddenly decide that perhaps this time they have something valuable to offer. I am skeptical of everything I have heard. I am opposed to acting on it.”

He sat back again, his features flushed and angry. “We should all be opposed,” he added, his eyes fixed on Angel.

The King nodded. “I am inclined to agree with my first minister,” he said quietly.

“So you will do nothing?” Angel pressed.

The King glared at her, and then turned around, walked back to his chair, and sat down. He gestured at her in exasperation. “My first minister makes a cogent point. Am I to accept without evidence of any sort that you speak the truth? That you are not yourselves deceived in some way? That the danger you describe actually exists? I did not accept it when Kirisin told me.

Now that you have come to Arborlon, I grant that there is fresh reason to wonder if he might be right. But what are we to do about it? We still have no means of finding the Loden Elfstone.”

“Perhaps a further search of your histories is needed,”

Angel offered. “Perhaps speaking with Kirisin again will help. What cannot be disputed is that the danger confronting the Elven people will not be avoided by ignoring that it exists. Something must be done, High Lord.”

“It is not necessary, lady Knight of the Word, that you tell me my duty as King of the Elven people. I know it far better than you do.

I will do what is needed, when it is needed.”

He stared at her to make certain she understood, then added, “I will arrange for a further, more extensive search of the Elven histories and any other journals or papers that are in my possession. If any members of my Council are in a position to help, perhaps through a search of their own records, they are welcome to do so. We will reconvene in two days to examine what we have uncovered.”

“High Lord,” Angel said quickly. “I would like to speak with Kirisin myself. If we compare what we know, perhaps between us we will unearth something useful.”

The King hesitated, his eyes reflecting his disapproval, and then he shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Very well. I will arrange it.”

Some of the arrogance that had been so apparent earlier was gone, and the King seemed both troubled and uncertain. Angel understood something about the need to establish ground rules if you were a leader. She understood what it did to you, how it fostered both arrogance and abrasiveness if you were not careful. She did not condemn him for his attitude; she merely wanted to understand what was driving it, and she believed it was something more than his position as King of the Elves.

“I am grateful, High Lord,” she told him, and meant it.

He nodded. “I am granting you a latitude I would normally deny. But I want this matter resolved. If Kirisin can help, then I want you to find out how.

Do whatever you feel you must.”

He rose and gestured to the members of the High Council.

“Enough discussion for tonight. This session is adjourned.”

AS ANGEL AND AILIE followed Maurin Ortish out of the chambers and into the hallway beyond, Angel heard the King ask the members of the Council to stay for a few moments more to review what they had just heard.

Angel understood immediately what that meant. The King would wait until they were safely out of earshot, and then declare privately what he felt the Council really needed to do. It rankled her that he would do this when there was so much at stake. But Ailie had warned her that the Elves mistrusted all humans, and no matter her exalted title as a Knight of the Word, she was first and foremost a human. If the Elves believed that she was a detriment to their safety, no matter how much she might argue otherwise, they would probably try to find a way to remove her from the picture.

What she wondered was whether they were capable of doing her harm when she had done nothing to provoke it.