“It is the decision of the Thalas-Enthia that, for crimes against his people, the current Speaker of the Sun and Stars, Porthios of the House of Solostaran, should be stripped of his title. That, further, he shall be exiled, cast out from this land, and from all lands where good men walk.”
“We challenge that ruling!” called a loud voice.
The elder elves were horrified, demanded to know who dared to do such a thing. The group of young elves stood together, defiance hardening their faces.
“The Heads of Household had no say in this,” continued the young elf, his voice rising over the outraged calls for silence. “And therefore we challenge the ruling.”
“This is not a matter for the Heads of Household,” said Rashas in icy tones. “By law, the Speaker determines if an elf is to be cast out. In the case where it is the Speaker himself who has committed a serious crime, the Thalas-Enthia is granted power to stand in judgment.”
“And who decided Porthios committed a crime?” the young man pursued.
“The Thalas-Enthia,” Rashas answered.
“How convenient!” The young man sneered.
His cohorts backed him up. “Put it to a vote of the Heads of Household,” several shouted.
“We want to hear from Porthios,” a young woman called out. “He should have a right to defend himself.”
“He was offered that right,” said Rashas smoothly. “We sent word to Silvanesti. Our messenger told the Speaker that he had been brought up on charges of treason and that he should return immediately to answer them. As you see, Porthios is not present. He remains in Silvanesti. He disdains not only these proceedings, but his own people.”
“Clever, very clever,” Dalamar murmured. “Of course, Rashas fails to mention the fact that Porthios is locked in a prison cell in Silvanesti.”
Tanis stood watching the proceedings in grim silence. His fear for his son was growing. Rashas, it seemed, would stop at nothing. Dalamar had been right. The senator was now in the dutches of the Dark Queen.
Rashas was forging ahead, “And here is the supreme mark of the disdain of Porthios for his people. Show them, Prince Gilthas.”
Gilthas lifted his head. He appeared to hesitate. Rashas said something to him. Gilthas glanced at the man, loathing and hatred in that glance. Then, slowly, he reached his hand into his yellow robes and drew forth the glittering, golden medallion formed in the image of the sun.
Anger, like a gust of wind, swept through the chamber.
The sun medallion was an ancient, holy artifact, handed down through the centuries from one Speaker to his successor. Tanis had no very clear idea what its powers were. These had long been a well-kept secret among the descendants of Silvanos.
How much did Dalamar know about it? Tanis wondered uneasily. And how he had found out? Not that it mattered. The dark elf was right. Porthios would have never voluntarily relinquished the holy medallion.
The White Robe was whispering in Rashas’s ear. Dalamar tensed, but the White Robe was apparently offering advice, not issuing a warning.
“All has been done in accordance with the law,” Rashas said, “but, if some of our younger and more inexperienced members request a vote, then we will allow it.”
The vote took place. Porthios lost, by a considerable majority. The sun medallion had clinched the matter. In the eyes of the elves, Porthios had renounced his own people. The young elves were the only ones to loyally support the absent Speaker.
Rashas proceeded relentlessly. “Leaderless, we turn to another member of the illustrious lineage of Silvanos. It is my pleasure and honor to present Gilthas, son of Lauralanthalasa, daughter of Solostaran, and the next Speaker of the Sun and Stars.”
At a nudge from Rashas, Gilthas bowed to the crowd politely. He was exceedingly pale.
“The Thalas-Enthia has carefully examined the lineage of Prince Gilthas. We find it completely satisfactory.”
“What about the fact that his father’s a half-human?” One of the younger elves was making a final try.
Rashas smiled benignly. “Surely, in these enlightened times, such a factor should not count against the prince. Don’t you agree?”
The young man scowled, unable to answer. He and his cohorts had been neatly caught in their own trap. If they protested against Gilthas further, they would appear as bigoted and rigid as their elders. The young Heads of Household exchanged glances. Then, of one accord, they turned and walked out of the proceedings.
A troubled murmur, like the rumble of thunder, rolled around the chamber. The elves didn’t like this. Some appeared to be having second thoughts. Rashas gave instructions to the White Robe and made a gesture.
Apparently, she was being ordered to go after the rebellious members. She to remonstrate, but Rashas frowned. His gesture was repeated, this time more forcibly.
The White Robe, with a shake of her head, left the rostrum and hurried out of the chamber.
“Thank you, Takhisis!” Dalamar breathed.
Tanis offered a similar prayer to Paladine.
The two slipped forward, began moving cautiously through the crowd.
“Don’t bump into anyone!” Dalamar warned. “We may be invisible, but we’re not wraiths!”
The elves in the chamber were restless, muttering among themselves.
Rashas saw the situation rapidly deteriorating. Obviously, he had to wrap this up swiftly. He called for silence. The elves gradually settled down, gave him their full attention.
“We will proceed with the Taking of the Vow,” he said, casting a sweeping glance around the chamber.
No one said a word in challenge now. Tanis and Dalamar had very nearly reached the rostrum. Gilthas was gripping the rostrum with white—knuckled hands, as if he needed its support to hold him up. He seemed oblivious to what was going on around him. Tanis glided near. He kept fast hold of the magic ring.
Rashas had turned to face Gilthas. “Do you, Gilthas of the House of Solostaran, hereby agree, of your own free will, to take the Vow of the Sun and Stars? To serve your people for the rest of your days as their Speaker?”
Gil’s face was without expression, his eyes lifeless. Moistening parched lips, he opened his mouth.
“No, Son! Stop!” Tanis yanked the ring off.
Gil stared in amazement at his father, who had apparently leapt straight out of nothing.
Tanis grasped hold of his son’s arm. “Take off the sun medallion!” he commanded. “Quickly!”
Dalamar appeared on Gil’s left. The young man looked dazedly from his father to the dark elf. A babble of confused sound broke out, shouts and cries. Gil’s hand closed spasmodically over the medallion.
Rashas, standing next to the young man, said something to him in a low voice.
Tanis ignored the senator. He would deal with him later.
“Gil, take the medallion off,” Tanis repeated quietly, patiently. “Don’t worry! You’ll be safe. I’ve come to bring you home.”
Tanis’s words jolted the young man to action, though not the action Tanis wanted.
Gil pulled himself away from his father’s grasp. The young man was deathly pale, but his voice was strong.
“You are wrong, Father.” Gil glanced at Rashas. “I am already home.”
Rashas began calling out loudly for the guards. At the sound of the commotion, the White Robe wizardess ran into the room.
“Quickly, my friend!” Dalamar urged in a low voice. “Unless you want to see a magical battle that will bring this tower down around our ears!”