Страница 82 из 107
The Amarillis clan possessed two living moonblades. One was a sword recently recovered from the ruins of ancient Aryvandaar, newly claimed by a flame-haired girl-child known as Echo. The other was wielded by a mage from the mainland settlement of Tangletrees.
"By the strength of numbers, Moonflower has proven a strong succession and thus has passed the first test given for the royal clan," Lady Durothil began.
"With your permission, Lady, I must object," interrupted a voice from the crowd.
A low murmur rippled through the crowd as Montagor Amarillis stepped forward to join his two kin. The Moon elf was strangely pale, and his face was the color of snow beneath the thick shock of bright red hair characteristic of his family. He unbuckled his weapons belt and held high a sheathed blade, turning slowly so that all might see the glowing moonstone in the hilt.
"This sword belonged to my grandmother. It was her will that it pass to me. There are therefore three living moonblades in House Amarillis, making us the equal of Moonflower."
Lady Durothil stared, dumbfounded, at the young noble. "Why did you not come forward for the claiming ceremony?"
"It is the right of every elf to decline his hereditary blade," Montagor said in a steady tone. "I claim the right to keep this sword in trust for my oldest child, as yet unborn."
Montagor turned to his two kin. "These worthy elves are not of Evermeet, and have told me they have no desire to stay or to rule. If there is to be an Amarillis king, he will be of my blood." He looked over to the three elves who stood beneath the blue rose standard. "Have the Moonflowers likewise come to an understanding?"
"I make no claim to royalty, and I would decline the throne if it were offered," Thasitalia Moonflower a
"And you, Giullio?" Lady Durothil prompted.
In response, the cleric drew his moonblade and saluted Zaor.
"That is clear enough," Montagor said, a smile of satisfaction playing about his lips. "I, too, will pledge my support to Zaor Moonflower, provided that he agrees to honor and acknowledge the rights of clan Amarillis."
Zaor stepped forward to face the red-haired noble. "The honor of Amarillis is beyond question," he said in a puzzled voice. "But of what rights do you speak?"
"The rights of royalty," Montagor said firmly. "The swords of Myth Dra
"You would have me divide the kingdom?" Zaor demanded.
"I would have you unite the two clans," Montagor countered. "Take my sister, Lydi'aleera, as your queen, and we will consider the matter settled."
The noble turned and extended a peremptory hand. A small, golden-haired elf woman came forward from beneath the green dolphin crest that marked the pavilion of House Amarillis. Montagor took her hand, which he in turn presented, in obvious symbolism, to Zaor.
Stu
As he gazed at the elf maid, Zaor silently cursed Montagor for putting him in this untenable position. His eyes darted to the place where the Grand Mage of the Towers sat.
Amlaruil's blue eyes were unreadable, her face utterly still. Not even her posture yielded any clues as to her thoughts, for the flowing mantle of her office obscured her form.
Since he could hardly refuse to acknowledge the girl, Zaor took the elf maid's offered hand and bowed over it. Yet as soon as he decently could, he released the slim white fingers and turned his attention back to Montagor.
"I am honored by the offer of union with Amarillis, and by the consent of this noble lady," he said carefully. "But the decision of what house will rule Evermeet was never mine to make. The moonblades alone must decide."
"You would chose battle between our clans rather than union?" Montagor asked incredulously. "What would be the cost of such a blood war to Evermeet? The Moonflowers and the Amarillis are ancient families with ties to many houses. Craulnober would surely come to your defense, and behind them the northland commoners who have given allegiance to them! The Silverspear newcomers are aligned with you, as is the commoner captain of the Leuthilspar guard! But the Hawksongs, the Eroths, the Alenuath-they have blood ties and close loyalties to Amarillis. Think carefully on what you would begin."
"Battle, if such there must be, would not involve all these elves!" Zaor protested. "Only those who hold the moonblades must contend for the throne."
"I have declined mine in favor of my heir. Would you let the question of kingship wait until I have a son or daughter to challenge you for it? Would a delay of a hundred years or more serve Evermeet?"
With great difficulty, Zaor held onto his temper. He recognized the layers of sophistry in the elf's argument, and he did not feel equal to meeting them. And there was enough truth in Montagor's words to be disturbing. Perhaps his rejection of the Amarillis alliance would not trigger a full-scale civil war, but it would cause a deep resentment, a division among the Moon elf families. And there were many Gold elves who would be quick to seize
Montagor's suggestion, in hope of holding onto the Council rule for a few decades more.
"It seems to me that this matter ca
Montagor's jaw tightened with anger, but he could not refute such a reasonable and pious request. He inclined his head to Zaor-a bow between equals, no more. "I agree. It will be as you suggest."
He turned and stalked away, leaving Lydi'aleera standing alone with the Moon elf. Zaor bowed to the young elf woman and strode from the field, not entirely sure where he should go.
Lady Mylaerla caught him by the arm and led him into her pavilion. "I have sent messengers to gather some of the People you'll wish to consult: some of the Elders, leaders among the warriors, a few of the clerics and magi, your circle of trusted friends," she said as she settled down in a chair. "They will be along shortly. I thought it best that we speak alone first."
Zaor paced restlessly about the tent. "What do you think of Montagor's claim?"
"He shows more subtlety than I had thought him capable of mustering," she admitted. "And he's in a good position to carry out his threat of delaying the selection of a royal house."
"And the possibility of clan warfare between Amarillis and Moonflower?"
"Unlikely. But you know that many of the Gold elves resent their exclusion from the process of selection. Of all the Moon elf families, Amarillis has the most demand upon their loyalties. High Councilors, when not of the Durothil lines, were usually from Amarillis. The family is one long, nearly unbroken line of warriors, mages, legendary heroes. If you turn away from an alliance with Amarillis, you stand to alienate most of Evermeet. Believe me, Montagor knows what you will refuse if you refuse Lydi'aleera. And doing that, in and of itself, would give Amarillis-and most of Evermeet-ample cause to take offense."
"I have no wish to insult the girl," Zaor said in deep frustration, "but even less desire to wed her!"
"It was unconscionable for Montagor to put either you or his sister in such a position," the elf woman agreed. "Yet Lydi'aleera is a reasonable choice for queen, even apart from her high family. The girl is beautiful and well ma