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Authors: Michael A. Stackpole

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BOOK: Once A Hero
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Berengar rubbed his hands over his face. "But you should know how corrupt and broken down things have gotten out there. We have Haladina raiding in Centisia."

"And you have the Aurdon Rangers to fight them."

"But we, the Fishers, pay for them when the Rangers are maintaining imperial security."

The emperor shrugged. "Their budget is but a tenth of the money your elders and the Riverens withhold from my tax collectors. Oh, don't look so surprised, Berengar. You knew they were underreporting trade and production, and if you didn't, you're more stupid than even I would have imagined."

He released Gena's hand and scuttled around to face Berengar more fully. "I know wearing the tiger above your crest has filled you with all sorts of ideas about the empire and imperial traditions, but it is the fabric of fantasy. If I were to force your Elders to correctly report what they have earned and send me my due, they would chafe beneath my rule. As it is, I have set tax rates at double and triple what I need to sustain my army and other imperial functions, because I know half to two-thirds of the money collected in my name will never reach me. In turn, because local nobles do not want imperial scrutiny, they handle all but the most major of problems. I do not mean to disillusion you, but the first emperor was, really and truly, the last heroic emperor. Since his time we have been little more than accountants because the Empire has not required more from us than that."

Berengar sat silently for a moment and Gena thought him completely depressed. She recalled the enthusiasm with which Berengar had outlined how he would have put the empire together had he been Beltran, and she knew that Hardelwick's apathy toward the empire's maintenance had to be a shock.

The count shivered, then looked up at the emperor. "I understand what you have said, at least on the surface, and I am certain I will come to understand more as I think on it. Which I shall do. However, that has no bearing upon our mission. Consider my request as that of a minor noble who does not wish to impose on His Imperial Majesty, but has no other choice."

Hardelwick nodded wearily. "What is it you ask of me?"

"I, we, have come here to request that you make available to us the sword and dagger Neal Roclawzi used five centuries ago." Berengar opened his hands. "Certainly you know where they are, and we need them most seriously."

"A mission to find Cleaveheart and Wasp?" The emperor sounded almost surprised and definitely amused. "Perhaps it is fated that you come here with that request, for I have recently learned of the sword's resting place. Due to Atholwin, actually."

"Yes? Yes? Can we have it?"

Hardelwick chuckled lightly as he shuffled toward the stairway. "You're welcome at having a go at getting it, but I'm not certain there is a Man or Elf alive who can actually lay hand to it."

"I can."

"So we will see, Berengar." The emperor patted Gena's leg. "Come, my dear, follow me. You will enjoy this."

"Is there a specific reason for that. Highness?"

"Oh, I believe so." The man nodded as he perched on the edge of the circular opening and extended his legs down into it. "After all, magickal wards that have lasted for five centuries are not common, and these were well woven. You can take pride in Larissa's handiwork, and we shall both be there to applaud if Count Berengar can defeat the spells she laid down."

Chapter 26
Carving a Niche in History
Autumn
Reign of the Red Tiger Year 3
Imperium Year 1
Five Centuries Ago
My Thirty-seventh Year

The Dreel's magick somehow superseded the nature of the circus translatio network and brought us directly to the grove outside Cygestolia. Upon arrival I did not feel nearly as weary as I had in my outbound trip, but I was not, by any measure, well rested and full of energy. We all managed to dismount and lead our horses from the grove, but before we left it, Aarundel used the blanket tied to his saddle to cover his wife's near nakedness.

As she huddled beneath it, my friend turned to face me. "We shall not speak of what Takrakor did to her, or the state in which you saw her. There are those among my people who would view that as an offense equal to your having touched her, and they would erase your gallantry in a foolish act meant to salvage the honor of the person you almost died to save."

I nodded. "I saw nothing, and I defeated you through a subterfuge."

"You need not go that far, my friend." Aarundef's eyes grew distant. "When I first met you, back when you fought Tashayul, I thought you brash and arrogant in the things you said. You bragged about becoming a hero, and like a hero, you did not back down when faced with Reithrese and Elven scorn. I knew then that I had no desire to fight you, ever, for you would defeat me. And I also knew you would become the hero you prophesied yourself to be."

"Not without you at my side."

Shijef lifted Marta into his arms, and I took charge of her horse in addition to Blackstar. Elven warriors slipped from the surrounding woods as we approached the city, but their challenges to us died as they realized who we were. With Aarundel and Marta both having bloody streaks on their faces, and me with a week's worth of grime and a splattering of Reithrese blood on me, we looked a suitable sight to have come back from the Reithrese city of the dead.

Word spread quickly that we had returned to Cygestolia. I fully expected the surprise I saw on many faces, but I read fear on so many more of them. It did not appear to be focused upon me—the fear, though the surprise came fully in my direction—leaving me to wonder why the Elves would find terror in the return of two people presumed dead by the Consilliarii.

Lest I leave the impression that our homecoming was met with sour looks and silence, I must note that it was not at all. Everyone cheered once they were over their initial shock. Aarundel quickly found himself unable to translate all the questions and comments directed at us. Laughter, catcalls, and applause followed us as we made our way from the grove to Woodspire. There loyal family retainers relieved us of our horses, and we were taken up to our chambers.

Once there I washed quickly, then collapsed in my bed. I had hoped to see Larissa before dropping off to sleep, but I thought it best that I had not. Given the growing state of euphoria in which I found myself—spawned because snatching my friends from Takrakor's fair was quite a feat—I might well have swept her up in my arms and have given her a proper welcome.

As I found in my dreams, she'd feared throwing herself at me, so she had stayed away as well. And forced herself to lie down to sleep so that we could be together in the heart of a city that wished to keep us apart.

I saw little of Thralan and Lomthelgar because the Consilliarii met in almost constant session from the time of our return. I could only guess at the type of discussions that kept them going so long, but after my last encounter with them, I was not of a mind to go there and see if my conclusions were correct. More important, I knew that their ideas and their wishes would really not make a difference in what I saw as the course for the rest of my life.

I spent a great deal of time away from most of the Elves during the first week after our return. Aarundel had been obsessed with the fact that Takrakor had taken both his and Marta's wedding tokens, and set about making new ones. I accompanied him to the smithy and worked on a project of my own under his able tutelage. Neither of us spoke much, but that didn't bother me. He was thinking of his wife and their ordeal, and I was thinking of my future and the likely events to unfold in it.

I knew the Reithrese and the Elves might be able to come to an accommodation concerning the kidnapping, but I also knew that I would never be able to escape retribution for my part in the desecration of Jammaq. The Reithrese could easily brand Takrakor a renegade and deliver his head on a stake to satisfy Elven sensibilities. My problem lay in the fact that enough Elves viewed me with the same disdain as the Reithrese. While I might be considered inviolate while in Cygestolia, I would be fair game outside the Elven Holdings.

I could not spend the rest of my life in Cygestolia. I was not one to cower in safety when faced with a threat. Moreover, the Reithrese merely had to press the Red Tiger, and I would come out to oppose them. They knew that, I knew that, and I felt certain most of the Elves knew that. Without much trouble at all the Reithrese would be able to dislodge me and destroy me with impunity.

Oddly enough, I did not find the idea of once again fighting the Reithrese all that disquieting. Even if the Elves didn't see it, I knew the Reithrese would never be at peace. Men had taken their empire away from them. We had defeated an Elder race. We laughed at their retreating troops, and they had to rely on our good graces to escape. We shamed them in a way that they could never allow to stand. Just as a man would never abide a dog that tricked him and stole food from his table, so the Reithrese would have to punish their rebellious inferiors.

I had no doubt that the next ten or twenty years would spell the end to Humanity or to the Reithrese. One way or the other we would be wiped out, or they would all die off. We could not live together. Perhaps the long Elven perspective could have allowed us to see a way to peaceful coexistence, but Men did not have it, and the Reithrese did not use it. The rebellion and overthrow of the empire had been an overture to genocide.

Just as I had felt a duty to go free Aarundel, so did I feel a duty to be with my fellow Men to oppose the Reithrese. I harbored no illusions about a long life sinking into glorious old age. I had chosen to tread the Hero's Path, and my journey was not yet at an end. Had I the freedom to marry the woman I loved, perhaps I would have wished my journey had ended, but facing the consequences of my choice would still not have been removed from me.

Of course, there always was the possibility that the Consilliarii had been locked in battles over whether or not they would grant me dispensation to marry Larissa, but I doubted that sincerely. If they were to do that, they would more tightly bind me to them, which would increase the chances that they could be brought into the Man-Reithrese conflict. More than likely, it occurred to me, they were devoting themselves to figuring out how to punish me for leaving three horses meant for the emperor in Jammaq. Surely that was a crime for which someone could claim my head.

After a week my work at the forge was finished, and at the same time the Consilliarii summoned me to appear before them. I agreed to go to them, but instead of dressing in my finest clothes, I wore the leather armor that I had used in Jammaq. I belted Cleaveheart on and left Wasp's empty sheath tucked inside my right boot. Regardless of what they were going to say to me, I intended to let them know my thoughts and plans, and the reasons behind them.

Calarianne, the sylvanesti overseeing the Consilliarii, did not hide her surprise when I came to the council armed and in armor. "Welcome, Neal Roclawzi Elfward. I trust you do not think you will be required to defend yourself here."

"I do not, Doma Calarianne. I felt it fitting that I come dressed for war because I know I will be leaving soon to conduct a war." I bowed my head to her. "However, I suspect you did not summon me to discuss my sartorial preferences."

"You are quite correct in your supposition, Elfward." She looked away from me toward one of the Consilliarii standing before her. I recognized him as the first Elf to oppose me when I said I was leaving on my rescue mission. "We have brought you here, Elfward, to reward your bravery."

The Consilliari bowed first to Calarianne and then more formally to me. "You are aware, Neal Roclawzi Elfward, that the title Custos Sylvanii is one that we bestow upon other races and peoples in whom we trust and whom we admire. Aarundel of Woodspire, as was his right as an Imperator, bestowed that title upon you and, at the same time, petitioned this body to ratify his decision. His petition has been granted, making you the first Man ever to earn that title. Henceforth you will be known among us as Elfward, and any that would bear you malice because of your Humanity or your birth in the Roclaws are enjoined to set their animosity aside, or be forced to reside apart from us."

Despite his obvious reservations, the Consilliari spoke the words sincerely. I felt a lump rise in my throat, and that surprised me. I had spent so much time expecting and living with hostility from the Elves that having even this begrudged acknowledgment of my worth unbalanced me. A smile came to my lips unbidden and I tried to kill it, but I failed because I found it mirrored on more Elven faces than I ever would have dreamt possible.

Calarianne nodded her head. "Thank you, Vorrin Consilliari. Neal, it has come to our attention that in your recent adventure you lost a dagger that had seen much service with you. While we know we cannot replace it per se, we offer you this inferior substitute, lest it be said we do not know how to show gratitude."

Marta stepped forward and walked across the flat of the chamber toward me. On a satiny blue pillow she bore a dagger that looked as closely as I remember to be Wasp's size, shape, and design. Of course, Wasp had been rusty steel with fittings of brass, while this had a blade of silver-washed steel, a crossguard of gold, and a gold pommel with a diamond set at the very end of it. As I reached for the blade, I felt a slight tingle, and Marta nodded to me almost imperceptibly.

Her voice came in a whisper. "The diamond is the one you saw taken from my brow. I have worked a spell onto the blade. I know there is nothing that will keep you and Takrakor apart, so this magick will help bring you together."

"To my advantage I am certain." I netted the blade and relished its improved balance over that of Wasp. "The better for throwing."

Maria smiled. "The better for not missing."

"Thank you." I reversed the blade and tucked it into my boot sheath. I bowed to Marta, then acknowledged all the Consilliarii, "Now I no longer feel naked."

"This pleases us greatly, Elfward." Calarianne smiled warmly at me. "As a Custos Sylvanii, Cygestolia is open to you. Thralan Consilliari has said that your chambers in Woodspire will be available to you whenever you need them and for however long you require them. We would like you to consider Cygestolia your home."

BOOK: Once A Hero
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