“Novron was a battle-hardened veteran of a lengthy war,” Hadrian concluded. “And Myron said Mawyndul? was just a kid?”
“Yes.” The monk nodded. “It was a quick and humiliating defeat.”
“But this doesn’t make sense,” Arista said. “Esrahaddon told us he was convinced that Mawyndul? was still alive.”
“Nyphron did not kill Mawyndul?. While the challenge is usually a fight to the death, Nyphron let him live. Perhaps because he was so young, or maybe because as an outcast he was no threat. What is known is that Mawyndul? was exiled, never allowed in Erivan again.”
“So how did Novron die?” Mauvin asked.
“He was murdered.”
“By who?”
“No one knows.”
“I would wager on Mawyndul?,” Royce said.
“Hmm…” Arista pulled on her lower lip, deep in thought.
“What?” Royce asked.
“I was just thinking about what Esrahaddon said when he was dying. He warned that the Uli Vermar was ending and that I had to take the heir to Percepliquis to get the horn. But his very last words were ‘Patriarch… is the same…’ I always assumed that he was never able to finish the sentence before he died, but what if he said all he meant to? Myron, how many patriarchs have there been?”
“Twenty-two including Patriarch Nilnev.”
“Yes, and how old is he?”
“I don’t recall reading about his birth, but he’s been patriarch for sixty years.”
“Myron, what are some of the other patriarchs’ names?”
“Before Patriarch Nilnev was Patriarch Evlinn. Before him was Patriarch Lenvin. Before that—”
Arista’s eyes widened. “Is it possible?”
“Is what possible?” Royce asked.
Arista got to her knees. “Does anyone have anything to write with?”
“I have a bit of chalk.” Myron produced a white nib from a pouch.
“Nilnev, Evlin, Lenvin, Venlin…” Arista scrawled the words on the flat rock.
“There are two n’s on Evlinn,” the monk corrected.
She looked up and smiled. “Of course there are. There would have to be. Don’t you see? Esrahaddon was right. He changed his name, his appearance. He must have found a position in the Cenzar Council of Emperor Nareion, which would have been easy given his mastery of the Art. Esrahaddon knew that Venlin and Nilnev were the same. In fact, every patriarch since the first has been the same person—Mawyndul?.”
“It would explain why the church was so intent on finding the heir,” Hadrian said. “If they killed the bloodline of Novron, the Uli Vermar would end early.”
“Which would be fine, if Mawyndul? had the horn. The fact that he didn’t was probably the only thing keeping Gaunt alive when they had him locked up. This explains why the Patriarch has sent so many teams down here. What he didn’t realize, though, is you actually needed the heir to succeed. Esrahaddon took precautions. That’s why he told me that the heir had to come. I’m not sure exactly what he did, but I venture to say that anyone other than Gaunt touching the horn’s box would have been killed.”
“That also explains why the Patriarch hired Magnus to kill Gaunt. With the heir dead, a single toot of the horn would make Nilnev king by default, just as it was supposed to do with Novron,” Hadrian said.
“Yes, but if the Patriarch blows the horn and Gaunt is still alive, then he’s not claiming an empty throne but rather announcing his right to challenge, right?” Arista looked to Myron, who nodded. “So if Gaunt wins, he becomes king of the elves and they have to do whatever he says. And if he tells them to go back across the Nidwalden and leave us alone, they will.”
“Theoretically,” Mryon said.
“So all we have to do is make the Patriarch think he succeeded. We’ll tell him Gaunt is dead and keep him hidden until the horn is blown. Then we’ll spring the trap.”
“Are you forgetting about this fight-to-the-death thing?” Gaunt asked.
“That won’t be a problem,” Arista reassured him. “He’s old, even for an elf. A breath of wind could kill him. He doesn’t want to fight you. He’s terrified of a fight. That’s why he wants you dead.”
Gaunt sat silent, his eyes working.
“So what do you say, Degan?” Arista asked. “You wanted to be emperor. How does king of the elves sound to you?”