“There is no need for that,” said the elf king, speaking flawless human. “We all understand each other’s languages.”
“Indeed?” Samah murmured, lifting an eyebrow.
By this time, Alfred had calmed himself enough to study the mensch, listen to what they were saying. He liked what he saw and heard. The two dwarves—husband and wife—had the fierce pride and dignity of the best of their race. The humans—again husband and wife—had the quick movements and quicker tongues of their people, but these were tempered by intelligence and common sense. The elf was alone and looked pale and sorrowful—recently bereaved, Alfred guessed, noting the man’s white clothing. The elven king had the wisdom of his years, and he had, in addition, the wisdom his people had accumulated over the years—a wisdom Alfred had not seen in many of the elves of other worlds. And the three disparate races were unified! This was not a hastily arranged alliance, made for the sake of the moment, but a unity that had obviously lasted a long, long time. One that had been carefully nurtured until it had taken root and was now strong and unbending. Alfred was very favorably impressed, and he could only suppose that Samah and the rest of the Sartan must be impressed as well.
The Council members, who had risen to be introduced, returned to their chairs.
“Please, be seated,” Samah said to the mensch, with a gracious wave of his hand.
The mensch glanced around. There were no chairs.
“Is this some type of joke?” Dumaka demanded, scowling. “Or are we to sit on the cold stone floor?”
“What do you—Ah, an oversight. I apologize,” Samah said, apparently just now realizing his mistake.
The Councillor sang several runes. Chairs made of solid gold sprang into existence, one directly behind each mensch. The. dwarf, feeling something suddenly touching his backside, jumped in alarm. Turning, seeing the chair where no chair had been before, he sucked in a deep breath, let it out in a curse.
The humans were momentarily stunned. The elf alone remained calm, unperturbed. Coolly, Eliason took a seat in the chair. Folding his hands in his lap, he drew his legs off the floor, as was the elven custom.
Delu sat down with graceful dignity, yanked her glowering husband down into his chair. Dumaka’s fist was clenched, the veins stood out sharply beneath his glistening skin.
Yngvar gave the chair a dark glance, the Sartan an even darker one.
“I will stand,” said the dwarf.
“As you please.” Samah was about to continue speaking, when the elf interrupted.
“What about a chair for Haplo? Our friend?”
Eliason made a graceful gesture, nodded at the Patryn, who was still standing.
“You refer to this man as ‘friend,’ do you?” Samah asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.
The mensch heard the danger, failed to understand.
“Yes, certainly, he is our friend,” Delu replied. “That is,” she amended, with a warm glance at Haplo, “we would be honored if he considered himself as such.”
“ ‘Savior’ is what my people call him,” said Eliason quietly. Samah’s eyes narrowed. He leaned forward slightly, hands folded on the table before him. “What do you know about this man? Nothing, I’ll wager. Do you know, for instance, that he and his people have long been our most bitter enemies?”
“We were all once bitter enemies,” said Yngvar. “Dwarves, humans, elves. We made peace. Perhaps you should do the same.”
“We could help negotiate, if you like,” Eliason offered, obviously in earnest. The unexpected response took Samah by surprise, left him momentarily at a loss for words. Alfred fought a sudden wild impulse to applaud. Haplo, standing in the corner, smiled quietly.
Samah recovered himself. “Thank you for the offer, but the differences that divide his people and ourselves are beyond your comprehension. Heed my warning. This man is a danger to you. He and his people want only one thing and that is complete rule over you and your world. He will stop at nothing to attain his goaclass="underline" tricks, deceits, treachery, lies. He will appear to be your friend but, in the end, he will prove to be your deadliest enemy.” Dumaka bounded to his feet in anger. Eliason forestalled him, the elf’s smooth words soothing the human’s anger like oil over rough seas.
“This man, at the risk of his own life, saved the lives of our children. He negotiated a peaceful settlement between our people and the dragon-snakes. He was in large part responsible for bringing us here safely to a realm where we hope we can establish our homes. Are these the acts of an enemy?”
“These are the tricks of an enemy,” Samah replied coldly. “However, I will not argue with you. I see he has completely deluded you.”
It seemed the mensch would have spoken. The Councillor raised his hand imperiously for silence, continued on.
“You have come requesting that we share our realm with you. We grant your request. Your people will be allowed to move onto those portions of Surunan designated for your habitation. We will establish a government for you, provide laws for you to follow. We will work with you to help improve your economic situation. We will educate you and your children. All this and more we will do for you, provided that you do something for us in return.” Samah glanced pointedly at Haplo. “You will rid yourselves of this man. Order him to leave. If he is your ‘friend,’ as you claim, he will understand that we have only your best interests at heart and he will be happy to comply.” The mensch stared at the Councillor, so shocked that for long moments they could not speak.
“Best interests!” Dumaka managed at last to find words for his astonishment.
“What do you mean—best interests?”
“Government over us? Laws for us?” Yngvar thumped himself on the chest.
“Dwarves govern dwarves, no one else makes decisions for us—not humans, not elves, not you!”
“No matter how many golden chairs you can pull out of the air!” Hilda sniffed.
“We humans choose our own friends. And we choose our enemies!” Delu cried passionately.
“Peace, friends,” said Eliason mildly. “Peace. We agreed I was to speak?”
“Go ahead, then,” Dumaka growled, resuming his seat. The elven king rose to his feet, took a step forward, made a graceful bow.
“We seem to be laboring under a misunderstanding. We came to ask you and your people if you would be kind enough to share your realm with our peoples. Surunan is certainly large enough for all. Looking around, as we sailed in, we could see that much of this precious land is now going to waste.
“We will develop the land, make Surunan prosperous. We will provide you with many goods and services you undoubtedly now lack. We will, of course, be more than pleased to include your people in our alliance. You will have an equal vote—”
“Equal!” Samah’s astonishment was boundless. “We are not your equals! In intelligence, magical power, wisdom, we are far superior. I make allowances,” he said, pausing to regain his composure, “because you do not know us as yet—”
“We know enough.” Dumaka was again on his feet, Delu standing at his side. “We came in peace, offering to share this realm with you in peace, in equal partnership. Do you accept our offer or not?”
“Partnership! With mensch!” Samah’s hand struck the marble table. “There will be no equal partnership. Take yourselves back to your boats and find another realm where you can all be ‘equal.’ ”
“You know very well that there is no other realm,” said Eliason gravely. “Our request is reasonable. There is no reason why you should not grant it. We do not seek to take over your land, only use that portion of it that you are not using.”
“We consider such demands unreasonable. We are not just ‘using’ this world. We created it! Your ancestors worshiped us as gods!”
The mensch stared at Samah, incredulous.
“If you will excuse us, we will take our leave,” said Delu, with dignity.
“We worship one god,” Yngvar stated. “The One who created this world. The One who guides the waves.”