The Banyan Inn was the most expensive establishment in the elven city of Morada. Although the common room was elegant and airy, with open walls to the garden and musicians constantly playing soft music, the allure of the Banyan was its private dining rooms where intellectuals and dignitaries could meet in seclusion. Many of the rooms had separate entrances from the outside, and the staff was trained to be discreet.
Kanis opened the door to one of the private rooms and stepped inside. Maraton immediately rose and bowed slightly as she entered. Kanis smiled and nodded as she made her way across the small room. Maraton ushered Kanis to a chair and waited until she was seated before returning to his own chair.
“You are looking exceptionally radiant tonight,” opened Maraton.
“I feel positively wonderful,” beamed Kanis. “I think things are beginning to come to fruition.”
“We are making progress,” Maraton nodded distractedly as if he wished to dispense with protocol and small talk.
“More than progress,” grinned Kanis. “Our victory is in sight. I overheard some of the palace guards on the way out tonight. Avalar will announce in the morning that he is calling for a council vote on the war. The guards were ordered to construct a stage near the Royal Tree. Avalar will address the people about the war.”
“No,” frowned Maraton. “It is too soon. We are not ready yet.”
“Of course we are,” Kanis laughed. “Avalar does not realize how poorly his plan will fail.”
“We do not have the votes to stop him,” retorted Maraton. “Even if we did, the plan was to keep him from calling for a vote by dividing the council evenly. We must get him to leave Elvangar before we strike.”
“I disagree,” countered Kanis. “There is no reason to wish for Avalar to leave home. We have the power to crush him right here in Morada. By tomorrow night, the reign of Avalar will be over.”
The mage stared at Kanis as if she had gone insane. He shook his head in confusion as his hand clenched the knife before him. He abruptly jabbed the knife into the table and sighed heavily. The knife handle vibrated, and Kanis stared at it with raised eyebrows.
“You are much too tense, Maraton,” smiled Kanis.
“I have reasons to be tense,” scowled the mage. “This is not what we had planned. Things are starting to unravel.”
“Unravel?” echoed Kanis. “I do not think so. The protest tomorrow will be the dagger plunge that finishes Avalar. He will have already announced the council vote, so he will have no chance to delay. It will all be over before he realizes what has happened.”
“What are you talking about?” frowned Maraton. “While the protest will be large and bloody, there are other things afoot that you know nothing about. Princess Alahara has been snooping around. Yesterday she met with one of the lads who organized the protest. She tried to make him believe that she was joining the protesters, but I can see through her. She is trying to infiltrate us.”
“You are such a poor judge of character,” Kanis laughed. “And you are paranoid. Why do you think Alahara is trying to infiltrate your group?”
“She is the heir to the throne,” Maraton said as if he were explaining something obvious to a simpleton. “No one with half a brain would believe that Alahara would protest the war. She is of her father’s blood. Besides, she was raised in the land of the humans. She of all people would want the elves to save her friends.”
“Sometimes I wonder if mages are really smarter than everyone else,” smirked Kanis. “Or is it just that all of their brains are focused on one small area of thought, and all of the rest of their head is simply filled with mush?”
“Are you trying to say something?” Maraton replied brusquely.
“I am,” nodded Kanis. “You do not know how to evaluate people. Alahara loathes her father. She laments the day that she rescued him from the Island of Darkness. She hates Elvangar and is planning on escaping at the first opportunity. Now, what were you saying about people with a half a brain?”
“How do you know this?” balked Maraton.
“I am her aunt,” shrugged Kanis. “She confides in me. In fact, Alastasia feels the same way, but the younger one does not have the fortitude to stand up to the king. Alahara does.”
“Talk is cheap,” scowled Maraton. “She may try to impress her aunt with her courage, but I still don’t believe it. Why would she want to leave Elvangar when she will be queen one day?”
“For a man,” Kanis grinned. “The young are often foolish about such things, but what do we care for her reasons? We only care about Avalar’s downfall.”
“Alright,” mused Maraton, “I can believe the part about her wanting to leave Elvangar for a lover, but then she would be even more a supporter of the war than Avalar is. She has more to lose when Vand attacks.”
“Not according to her,” countered Kanis. “She does not see Vand as this great omnipotent force. She does not think that the humans will have any problem defeating Vand without the help of the elves.”
“Then she is deluded,” snapped the mage. “Vand is powerful. Blood will flow freely over the human lands. While all of the kings and leaders of the humans are slaughtered, no one will even get close to Vand. She is a fool.”
“Is she?” retorted Kanis. “She has been close to Vand twice already. She has moved around the Island of Darkness as if it were her home. She even broke into the temple and stole Avalar from the dungeons. As for knowing the strength of the humans, she has lived with them all of her life. Who are you to judge their chances in the coming war better than her?”
Maraton sat in silence for some moments contemplating the words of the queen’s sister. Servants came into the room, and the mage ordered two expensive meals. He waited for them to leave before speaking.
“I must figure out what all of this mean to our plans,” he said softly. “Alahara is slated to die at the protest tomorrow.”
“No,” Kanis said adamantly. “That would spoil everything. Avalar would gain the sympathy of the people for his loss. Besides, she is on our side. Think about it. She is against this war, and she has the credentials to be heard. Instead of killing her, we need to get her to address the people. When she is done talking, not only will everyone be against this useless war, they will look upon Avalar as weak.”
“Weak?” echoed Maraton. “Because he cannot control his own daughter?”
“That and more,” nodded Kanis. “He will also appear weak because he languished in prison for decades. He had to wait for his young daughter to come and rescue him. Properly framed, it will also make Alycia appear too weak to rule. After all, she sat by and did nothing for close to twenty years.”
“The only one looking good in all of this will be Alahara,” frowned Maraton.
“And she will be leaving for the human lands,” grinned Kanis. “This will be much easier than we had planned. I will be forced to step in to keep the reign of Kieran going.”
“What if she decides not to leave?” asked the mage.
“Then we eliminate her,” shrugged Kanis. “I do not think she will stay. She has no love for the elves.”
“Then we need to pressure the council members for a vote against the war tomorrow,” nodded Maraton. “The protest must be large and violent before Avalar speaks. Do you think Alahara could be convinced to speak against her father?”
Kanis laughed heartily. “One of the main reasons that she wants to be at the protest tomorrow is to embarrass Avalar. Will she speak if given the chance? I guarantee it.”
“Excellent,” smiled Maraton. “I will see that she gets her chance. I am afraid that I must forego the meal. I have many people to speak to about the changes. I only hope that I can get to all of them in time.”
* * *
Alahara and Alastasia got off the lift and stared at the distant stage as it was being completed. Hundreds of workers scurried about the large wooden structure putting on the finishing touches. A chill shot down Alastasia’s spine.
“Father is going to very exposed up there on the stage,” she commented softly. “I am not sure that this is such a good idea.”
“Just concentrate on what we have to do,” advised Alahara. “We are just a small part of this plan. Put it all out of your mind except your own duties.”
“I cannot,” Alastasia shook her head. “Neither can you. While your words are nice, we both understand that we cannot lose sight of the bigger picture. We must be ready to step in where others may falter.”
“Well,” sighed Alahara, “at least try. Our task is the most important.”
“Not true,” countered Alastasia. “Everyone has a large part to play today. I am glad that Tamar told us about Eltor and Caldal infiltrating the protesters. I thought it was rude of them to be in Morada and not speak to us.”
“They didn’t get very far with their infiltration,” replied Alahara. “Not as far as we did.”
“We really don’t know if we have succeeded yet,” warned Alastasia. “Anyway, I think their new duties are better suited to them. I hope they succeed.”
“They will,” Alahara said with confidence. “Look. There is Kara. Let me introduce you.”
A small group of around a hundred protesters had arrived early for the demonstration. They stood quietly watching the completion of the wooden stage, their homemade signs protesting the war hanging from limp hands. Princess Alahara guided her sister to the edge of the crowd where Kara stood leaning against a building. He straightened up when he saw the princesses approaching.
“Both of you?” Kara asked with surprise.
“My sister feels as I do,” smiled Alahara. “She is just shy about it.”
“That’s fantastic,” grinned Kara. “Let me introduce you to the people who have already gathered. We can start singing some protest songs.”
“Not yet,” Alahara shook her head. “We will not reveal our opposition to the war until the king is on the stage. If we were to do so any earlier, he would send soldiers to escort us into the palace.”
“Then we would miss the whole demonstration,” pouted Alastasia.
“Oh,” frowned Kara. “I understand. That does make sense. I was wondering, Alahara, would you be willing to get up on the stage and talk about the humans today?”
“Talk about the humans?” echoed the princess. “What do you mean?”
“Well you know that the elves are not needed in this war,” explained Kara. “I was hoping that you would tell the crowd about your views. I think it would have a tremendous impact.”
“It sure would embarrass the king,” Princess Alahara chuckled nervously as she saw Levitor come around the corner.
Kara waited impatiently for an answer as thoughts whirled through Alahara’s mind. Levitor glanced her way with a snarl on his lips, and Alahara dropped her gaze to the ground. Finally, she looked Kara in the eyes and smiled.
“You ask a lot of me,” she said, “but I am willing to steel my courage if you are willing to do the same.”
“What do you mean?” asked Kara.
“I will go up on the stage and speak,” offered Alahara, “if you and your two friends will come up on stage with me to protect me.”
“Protect you?” gulped the boy. “From the soldiers?”
“Not the soldiers,” chuckled Alahara. “From my father. Avalar will not dare to be seen pushing young boys around to get to me. All the three of you have to do is stand around me. That is all.”
“That’s it?” asked Kara. “Sure. We will do it. Does this mean that you will speak?”
“It does,” grinned Princess Alahara. “I will speak right after the king does.”
“Fantastic,” the boy replied excitedly. “I have to spread the word. I will find you later when everything starts happening.”
Kara ran off and Alastasia moved close to her sister. “Why did you agree to speak?” she asked in a whisper. “I thought we were just supposed to disarm the crowd?”
“This will work out better,” smiled Alahara. “While Kara may have convinced many of these protesters to come here with the promise of gold, there are citizens here who truly believe that Elvangar should stay out of this war. I think we should try to convince them of the truth.”
“Better you than me,” sighed Alastasia.
“Oh, you will be involved as well,” grinned Alahara. “Let’s get started on what we came to do. Remember to use an ordinary compulsion spell first. Only use the Kieran compulsion spell if the other one fails. We don’t want to be causing pain if we don’t have to.”
Alastasia nodded, and the princesses split up. For several hours they moved slowly through the gathering crowd. Every time they say a boy with a pouch of rocks, they cast a compulsion spell on him. Each boy immediately left the gathering and returned without the rocks. The boys had no recollection of leaving the gathering and dumping their rocks by the side of the river.
* * *
A muted voice gave permission to enter the office. Garl opened the door and entered the room. He stood staring at Maraton and waited until the mage raised his head to acknowledge the Head Mage.
“What is it, Garl?” Maraton asked with annoyance. “I am kind of busy here.”
“You need to work on your manners,” Garl replied calmly. “I want you to come to the garden with me.”
“Not today,” Maraton shook his head. “I am just too busy.”
“A pity then,” shrugged Garl as he turned to leave. “Let history record that you were too busy today.”
Maraton’s head snapped up with annoyance and confusion. “What do you mean history?” he asked.
“I am an old man,” sighed Garl. “Surely, even you can see that? I will soon be asked to name my successor as Head Mage of the Society of Mages. I thought that I would be remiss in my duties not to include you in that list, but you are obviously too busy. Sorry to interrupt your work.”
“Wait,” Maraton called out as he rose from his chair. “Why the garden? That is a strange place to hold interviews. Why not interview me right here? It would save time.”
“An office is a poor place to discuss elven magic and all that it represents,” scoffed Garl. “I prefer to hold interviews in the midst of nature. I am too old to change my ways, even for you. Good day.”
“Wait,” Maraton called again. “Go to the garden. I will be there in a minute. Just let me get my last thoughts down before I forget them.”
Garl did not reply. He continued walking out of the office and headed for the large central garden. He inhaled deeply as he exited the building. He loved the smell of the flowers and the tree blossoms. With a smile on his face, Garl walked to the far end of the garden where the ivy ran rampant, climbing up the side of the building and covering the wall that formed the fourth side of the courtyard. He sat on a small stone bench facing the ivy and closed his eyes. His mind wandered back to the small village of Etta where he had spent close to twenty years in exile.
“You aren’t sleeping, are you?” the voice shattered Garl’s daydream.
Garl opened his eyes and saw Maraton standing before him. He smiled and shook his head. “No,” he answered. “I was just daydreaming of simpler days in Etta. Things were much less complicated there. There life in all of its forms was revered. I think I may return there before I die.”
“That’s nice,” Maraton replied dryly, thinking the old man should hurry up and pack his bags while he could still find the way to Etta. “What do you need to know about me to determine my fitness to succeed you?”
“I mostly need to know the level of your expertise in magic,” answered the Head Mage. “I also need to explore your moral fitness for the office.”
“My moral fitness?” balked Maraton. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“A great deal,” replied Garl. “As you know, the Society of Mages is not a political institution. We try our best not to get involved in the politics of Elvangar, although at times there are exceptions. Still, the moral character of the Head Mage must be beyond reproach. As Head Mage, our leader must often interact with the nation’s leaders. Elvangar must be constantly assured that the Society of Mages will not threaten the monarchy. You can imagine the fear of our power if that were not so.”
Maraton stood uncomfortably as the discussion came too close to the current situation in Elvangar. He wondered if the Head Mage might have stumbled upon his plans.
“I have no interest in politics,” lied the mage. “Magic is my life, as it should be for every mage. The Head Mage should be chosen on raw power as it has been for centuries. Why are you changing the requirements?”
“I don’t see the requirements as having been changed,” countered Garl. “The Head Mage has rarely been chosen by raw power. He has been chosen by effective power. There is a great difference between those two. For example, while you are extremely powerful with raw magic, I have little doubt that a lesser mage could effectively disarm you by using a far superior mental intellect.”
“You are talking nonsense now,” Maraton shook his head. “Name a mage other than yourself who could defeat me.”
“Princess Alahara,” smiled Garl. “While she may one day have far greater raw power than you do, she certainly does not possess it right now.”
“Nor is she a match for me,” snapped Maraton as tried to turn to leave the meeting. “Enough of this nonsense.”
Maraton frowned as his feet refused to obey him. He looked down and saw that the ivy had wrapped around his legs tightly. His eyes opened wide as he watched the ivy spiraling upward to encase his body.
“I think you are wrong about her,” Garl continued as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. “You see, Princess Alahara used her intellect to discover your little plot to destroy the Royal Family and crown the queen’s sister. In a sense, she has made the most effective use of her magic, although you had the greater raw power.”
“You are mad,” shouted Maraton as his arm rose and pointed at Garl.
Garl smiled sadly and shook his head. “Blast away with your most potent spells,” shrugged Garl. “I am completely shielded. You cannot harm me, and you know it. Spend your time to make peace with Kaltara.”
Maraton frowned as he stared down at the ivy, which was growing at a frantic pace. He pointed his finger downward at the base of the ivy and blasted a hole in the plant with a fireball. The ivy reacted by growing even faster. Strands ran up Maraton’s back and encircled his throat. The mage’s hands ripped at the ivy, but new strands of the plant soon encased his hands along with his neck. His eyes narrowed with the realization that death was just moments away.
“Why, Maraton?” asked Garl. “Why did you stray from the path of the righteous?”
Maraton did not answer as the ivy had completely enclosed him. Garl shook his head sadly and rose from the bench. He went in search of the next wayward mage.
* * *
“I do not think this is a good idea,” frowned Queen Alycia as she stood at the railing of the throne room looking down at the new stage and the growing crowd of demonstrators. “If anything, you should have a larger contingent of soldiers surrounding you. You are being foolishly proud to go upon that stage with no guards.”
“I do not see it as a foolish move,” countered King Avalar. “If the citizens are going to stone anyone, it should not be the soldiers of our nation. Their complaint is with me and my policies. I am not afraid to stand before our citizens and tell them the truth.”
“Well I am afraid for you,” retorted the queen. “I lived without you for too long. I will not do so again. There will be soldiers guarding you today if I have to order them out there myself.”
“You will do no such thing,” Avalar said sharply. “The first strategy of war is to do the unexpected, and that is what I intend to do. Make no mistake about this Alycia; we are at war here. While many of those protesters firmly believe in their cause, many others are down there to foment the destruction of our reign. I will not allow that to happen.”
“Then I shall join you on that stage,” Alycia said stubbornly. “If you are to be stoned to death, I want to be by your side when it happens. Let them stone me as well.”
King Avalar walked to the railing and put his arm around his wife. He kissed her gently and then leaned on the railing beside her and gazed downward at the protesters.
“Do not fear for me,” he said softly. “There will be no stoning of the king this day. Our daughters are down there making sure that the stones are not thrown.”
“Alahara and Alastasia?” questioned the queen. “Where are they?”
Avalar pointed to the far edge of the mob. Alycia squinted and finally found Alahara.
“What are they doing down there?” she asked. “Are you all mad? There is a plot to destroy the Royal Family and the three of you are wading into the public and inviting attacks? This is a nightmare. It can not be happening for real.”
“Everything is under control,” soothed Avalar. “There is only one loose end that we have not figured out how to address yet.”
“And what is that?” Queen Alycia asked suspiciously.
“Kanis,” Avalar replied softly. “Your sister is involved in this attempted coup.”
“No,” Alycia shook her head with disbelief. “Kanis may be crude at times, but I cannot fathom her involvement in anything like this. You are wrong. You just don’t like her and find it convenient to attach her to the conspirators.”
“I was very much afraid that you would react this way,” sighed the king. “I do not know how to convince you of your sister’s duplicity, but I know the truth of it. She has conspired with Maraton to become the new Queen of Elvangar.”
“I do not believe it,” Alycia said adamantly. “Your sources are wrong. They do not know my sister.”
“Three individuals that I would trust my life to disagree with you,” replied the king. “Alahara and Garl heard it with their own ears, and Tamar had Kanis followed last night. She met with Maraton at the Banyan Inn in a private room. It is not my own personal feelings for your sister that are determining her guilt. It is her own actions.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Alycia shook her head as she turned from the railing and paced the floor of the throne room. “What will you do to her if it is true?”
“I don’t know,” admitted the king. “I do not care much for Kanis, but she is your sister. It is a decision that I do not wish to make. I want you to think about it. We will talk about it later.”