Witch Wraith

Normally, she wouldn’t have given that jealousy more than a moment’s thought. But it was an uncomfortable reminder of why she felt so out of place in Arborlon, where there were so many Elves and almost no Dwarves.

She let that feeling persist for a few minutes longer before dismissing it as self-indulgent. There was no place or reason for that sort of thinking. She was better than this, in any case, and letting such feelings trouble her was irritating.

She had forgotten the matter and improved her attitude by the time she reached the palace grounds and walked up to the front doorway of the ancestral homes of the Elven Kings and Queens. Home Guards shadowed their progress coming in, and two were there to meet them at the door. After determining that they were expected, the guards admitted them, and the messenger took her down a hallway to a reception room and departed.

She waited no more than a few minutes before the King and his brother, Ellich Elessedil, appeared in the doorway.

“Thank you for coming,” the former greeted her, taking her hands in his own. He made it sound as if it mattered a great deal that she was there, and she was immediately suspicious. “We need your services badly, I am afraid.”

“Whatever I can do, High Lord,” she said.

Ellich closed the door behind them, and the three moved over to a gathering of chairs in a windowless corner of the room. The King seated Seersha across from him while Ellich moved over to the window as if intent on keeping watch. Outside, the gardens were flowering, and the air was thick with scents that wafted through cracks in the window sash.

“The demons have broken out of the Forbidding,” the King announced without preamble. “Sometime yesterday, they started massing around Arishaig.”

“Arishaig?” Seersha repeated, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.

“I thought the same,” Ellich interjected, looking over at her. “Why there? Why not here? The Elves are the obvious enemy of the creatures in the Forbidding. But we still don’t know the answer.”

“There is every reason to think the city will be taken.” Emperowen was leaning forward now, his voice lowered. “If that should happen—something we think likely because of the size of the invading army—Ellich and I believe we will be next. We can’t sit around waiting for that to happen.”

“Like you have been doing up until now,” Seersha pointed out.

The King was taken aback by her bluntness, but he nodded in agreement nevertheless. “We will follow the steps taken by Eventine Elessedil when he was King and the Forbidding failed all those hundreds of years ago. We will unite the Races and make a stand against our common enemy.”

“The Dwarves will fight,” Seersha said at once.

“I thought you would say as much. But we will need more than that. We will need the men and women of the Borderland Cities, as well. And the Trolls from the deep Northland. Word will be sent at once, asking for their help.” He paused, glancing at his brother. “Ellich and I believe we need to make an immediate effort to save Arishaig. There are hundreds of thousands of people trapped in that city, and if a way to stop the attack of the demonkind isn’t found, they will be overrun and killed. Do you agree?”

“The Federation army is the strongest in the Four Lands,” Seersha pointed out, looking from one to the other. “Their largest garrison is housed in Arishaig. The city won’t be easily taken.”

“Nevertheless,” Ellich said.

She looked at him. “Yes, the city will be taken sooner or later. The creatures of the Straken Lord will keep attacking until it has fallen. Which is why we shouldn’t be sitting around discussing the matter. We have lost time to make up for. If you can assemble an army, I will travel with them to Arishaig at once. Crace Coram will return to the Eastland to inform the Dwarf tribes and rally their fighters to our—”

Emperowen held up one hand to stop her in mid-sentence. “Our course of action is clear, but not yet approved. There is a problem.”

She nodded slowly, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “The Elven High Council?”

“I require their permission before I can declare war and dispatch an army of the size required. It is by no means certain that the Council members will grant this.”

“There are some among them who will never even consider allying the Elves with the Federation,” Ellich interjected. “Our history is a bitter one, and some among our people have long memories. There will be no problem with allying ourselves with the Bordermen or Dwarves or even the Trolls, but those alliances have traditionally been formed against the Federation.”

Seersha sat down slowly. “So the High Council may choose to leave the Federation to its fate rather than swallow their pride? They will abandon our strongest potential ally because of a history that is now more than a hundred years in the past?”