The question almost stopped him in his tracks because he had no answer. He experienced a momentary sense of stepping over a line, of making a decision that he would look back on for a long time to come. But his anger and his forward momentum kept him going when common sense and second thoughts might have turned him around. He had stomped away with such finality that going back now would be the same as crawling back, and he wasn't about to do that. Stopping to debate his reasons for accepting on faith what the Ellcrys had told him was pointless.
He couldn't explain it because his commitment to the Ellcrys transcended reason or argument and went to the heart of his service as a Chosen. He couldn't speak for the others, but that was the way it was for him. What the Ellcrys had told him this morning had only strengthened his determination to fulfill his obligations to serve and protect.
Why am I forsaken?
The words chilled him. It was an accusation he could not ignore.
What he couldn't understand was Erisha's failure to act. Why hadn't she agreed to talk to her father? It was almost as if she was afraid to approach him about it. He couldn't think of any reason for that, but he didn't pretend to know everything about their relationship, either. He supposed being the daughter of the King carried with it a set of built–in problems, the kinds that were always hidden from the general public. His father and mother had certainly had their share of troubles with Arissen Belloruus. It shouldn't seem strange that his daughter might have a few, as well.
Still, she had been adamant about not speaking to him.
Again, he almost stopped and turned around, a small whisper warning him to watch out. But his mind was made up.
He passed from the gardens into the surrounding trees and walked uphill through homes that might easily have been mistaken as part of the forest if you were looking at them from a little farther off. Elven cottages and huts burrowed into the earth, formed extensions of the forest old growth, and sat like nests in the trees. They were like spiders in their webs–you had to be close and you had to be looking to spot them. Even the trails Kirisin followed were virtually undetectable, reworked and rerouted on a regular basis to avoid giving them away. Elves had learned long ago to walk lightly in the world.
Of course, walking lightly didn't solve all the problems of the world, especially in these times. Not everyone shared the sensibilities of Elves.
Sickness and decay had penetrated even here, a direct consequence of the poisons injected into earth, air, and water by humans everywhere. The fallout from their wars had spilled over into Elven homelands, as well. The Elves knew about healing, but there was only so much anyone could do. Until now, the Elves had fought back using skills mastered over countless centuries, but their efforts were beginning to fall short. The poisoning was too pervasive; it had penetrated too deep. Without the use of the magic that had sustained them in the time of
Faerie, they were fighting a losing battle.
Even Arissen Belloruus, famous for his optimism and insistence on Elven ingenuity as a solution for all things, must know this.
The Belloruus home sat astride a heavily forested hilltop; its rooms and passageways were worked deep into the earth so that virtually the whole of the rise was wormholed. There were numerous entrances and exits, dozens of light shafts and windows, but none that were visible until you got close. All were heavily guarded. He was still fifty yards away, coming up the incline toward the main entry, when the first of the Home Guards intercepted him. The Home Guards were the King's personal defenders, an elite unit formed of Elven Hunters whose specific duty was to protect the royal family. He was known to the pair who challenged him, and so he was allowed to pass. He went in through the main entrance, announced himself to the personal aide on duty, and was directed to take a seat along with several others who had come in ahead of him.
There he sat, waiting.
He passed the time by trying to dredge up from memory what little he knew about the Elven histories. Look there for your answers, the Ellcrys had told him, so that was what he must suggest to the King. The histories were old, so old they could be traced back all the way to the beginning of the ancient wars between good and evil. It was then that the Elves and their Faerie allies created the Forbidding out of magic and shut away the dark creatures that had plagued them since the Word and the Void had begun their battle for control of all life. It had been a long, bitter struggle, but in the end the Elves had prevailed and the demons and their like were defeated and locked away. It was the creation of the Ellcrys that made victory possible and allowed for the confinement of the evil ones. Everyone knew that story, even those who had never read a word of the histories.
He had seen these ancient tomes while visiting Erisha some years ago. They were kept in a special room that was always locked when not in use. The books were watched over by the royal historian, Culph, a formidable oldster possessed of an even more formidable temper. Kirisin had met him only once, and once was enough.
For the most part, the Elven histories were the property and concern of the Kings and Queens of the realm, and lesser folks were not allowed to peruse them. They were too fragile and too easily damaged for them to be made available to all, and perhaps it didn't matter anyway since they were said to be sketchy about much of what had happened in the early years. The books themselves had been recorded and bound only a dozen centuries ago, their contents translated from written notes and oral history gathered together from hundreds of sources.
It was impossible to say how much of it was accurate. Certainly some of it was too thin and dated to be of any use. But perhaps the Loden and the seeking-Elfstones were important enough to Elven history and culture that whatever was written about them would be essentially correct.
He had to hope so. Because if there wasn't something in those books about the seeking-Stones and the Loden and the whole business of how to save the Ellcrys without uprooting her …
So his thinking went, unraveling like thread off a spool, spinning out into a pile at his feet.
By the time he was summoned, two hours later, he had lost most of his enthusiasm for what he had come to do and all of his patience. Everyone else had been taken ahead of him, even though he was a member of the royal family. He couldn't help but think that this was the King's way of letting him know that he had slid a long way down in the royal pecking order since the confrontation with his parents over splitting the Elves. That hadn't involved him personally, but it seemed he might be paying the price nevertheless. He made a mental note to ask his sister how she was faring as a member of the King's personal guard.
"Kirisin!" the King exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise!" He was a big man with a booming voice and expansive gestures, and the exuberance of his greeting seemed to refute the possibility of any personal antagonism. "But why aren't you in the gardens with the other Chosen?"
If you knew I was supposed to be there, why did you make me sit inthe hall for two hours? Kirisin thought. Why didn't you take me ahead of those others?
But he didn't say any of that. He wasn't there to pick a fight. He hoped.
"My lord," he greeted, giving the King a respectful bow. "I'm sorry to interrupt you."
"Nonsense! I don't see enough of you. Come in, come in. How is my daughter? Still trying to convince everyone she's all grown up at seventeen? I wish she could learn to take herself a little less seriously. More like you. You always seem so relaxed."
He guided Kirisin over to a couch, sat them both down, and leaned forward conspiratorially. "I would have called you in sooner, but I was stuck in a conference and couldn't break free. All those others who came in first had to deal with one of my aides, but I selfishly kept you for myself. Hope the waiting didn't age you too badly. Tell me how you are."