Chapter 8

The instant Gazaelle had told Miriam that they had crossed into Havillah, they had found themselves staring at the very shiny, very sharp points of a half-dozen spears. Miriam had been startled enough to not say a word, but Gazaelle merely smiled and said, "Ne, to Gazaelle ly Yano." Which means roughly, "Stop, I am Gazaelle of the Wood." And evidently, being Gazaelle of the Wood was important, for immediately the spears were lowered and a half-dozen tall figures stepped into view and began conversing with Gazaelle in a language that Miriam didn't know. Once they had everything settled, the seven of them began walking forward. The youngest of the warriors held out his hand to Miriam. Now Miriam was a very smart girl, and she knew that it is never wise to trust a stranger, but she also knew that it is not wise to argue with someone who carries a sword and spear. So she took the warrior's hand.

Miriam had been overwhelmed by the beauty of Havillah, all the while feeling that she had been there before in a dream, but when the strange man had referred to her as being a queen, she felt that it was the last straw in a truly stressful day. She came to herself in a pavilion of blue silk. A woman with silver hair was bending over her and smiled when Miriam opened her eyes.

"Hello my Lyn Eslyn. I am Hatita. Do you feel better after your bit 'o sleep?" She smiled again at Miriam, and Miriam noticed what pretty blue eyes the lady had and the way her silver hair was braided around her head.

"I'm fine, but what did you call me?"

"Lyn Eslyn. It is the old tongue for sweet child."

Miriam smiled at the nice lady. "What is the old tongue?"

"The old tongue was the language of our people, the Thurrim, many years ago. Now most of it is lost. We speak now the common tongue of Rainya."

"Rainya?"

"Rainya is your world, my child!" The silvery Hatita shook her head. "We will go to the king now, I am sure that he has much to speak of with you."

Miriam followed Hatita out of the blue tent and back into the large one where she had met Meunin. He was sitting on a carved throne in the center of the largest part of the tent and Gazaelle was standing beside him. Several other tall men were sitting on chairs all around the throne. They were all solemn and wise looking. Meunin stood as Miriam entered the room.

"Fair advisors, this is the child." At this eight or so pair of eyes turned upon Miriam. "I have brought her to the Council of the Wise so that we may decide among ourselves who she is and what course of action to take."

One of the men stood and Miriam recognized him as the leader of the scouts that had met them at the border. "In my mind, there is no doubt that this child is the heir of Traeven, one has only to look at her face to see the likeness to our king."

Another stood. "To you, Thahan, the likeness may be clear, but to those of us who are more cautious, the likeness seems to be very small indeed. Besides, who knows but that this child was sent by our enemy to trick us?"

Thahan shook his head. "Asahel, if our enemy wished to destroy Havillah, would he not simply send his troops? Why would he waste his time in sending a child?"

Asahel was getting angry. "I have no doubt that the troops could enter our borders. Remember the failure with Azmaveth?"

"My armies were not to be faulted for Azmaveth. They were prepared to talk, not to fight."

"Perhaps they should have been prepared!"

From this point all of the councilors stood on their feet and fought out the battle for Azmaveth again. They were completely diverted from the point and Miriam stood there with wide eyes. At last Meunin stood.

"Be SILENT!!" The advisors were ashamed and hung their heads as they sat. "A house divided among itself cannot stand. No one was to fault for Azmaveth as much as I. I will not hear anymore of this. We are here to decide the fate of Aeral through this child."

Asahel stood slowly. "If it pleases the king, I believe we should here the child's side of the story and make our decision from there." The other advisors mumbled among themselves that this was a wise suggestion, and Meunin nodded his agreement. Miriam was a bit afraid to say anything, but Asahel said, "Please child, tell us who you are and how you came to be in Aeral." So she took a deep breath and talked.

She told them that her Grandfather's name was Traeven that he had come from some other country and made Traeven his last name. She told them how he had been known as David and how his wife's name was Lydia. She told them of the son of Traeven, and the wife that his mother did not approve of. She told them of the death of Joshua and his wife and how she came to live with her grandmother. She told them of the stormy night and of the inscription on the door. Finally she told them about her grandmother's death, the relations, and her escape through the door. When she finished she exhaled a deep breath. It had been hard to talk about her parents and grandmother's deaths.

The council was silent for a long time. At last Meunin spoke. "Is there any doubt?"

One of the advisors who had not yet said anything lifted his head. "The inscription on the door tells all. No one but an heir to the throne could have opened the door. She alone can defeat Markin. She is, in fact, my queen." With this he slid to the floor and bowed low. One-by-one the other advisors did the same. At last Meunin stood from his throne and walked toward Miriam. Kneeling he placed his crown at her feet. "Milady."

Miriam was crying, and she didn't know why. At last Meunin stood and put his crown back on. He led Miriam to his throne and she sat in the place of honor. Meunin took a seat at her right hand and the others sat back in their chairs. Thahan alone stood and spoke.

"Your majesties, since we have decided that this is, in truth, our queen, our next course of action should be to attack Markin and his horde. With one blow we could wipe them out and set Traeven's heir on the throne of Aeral. Once again peace would reign in our fair land."

Meunin smiled. "Well spoken, for a warrior, Thahan. But this decision is for the queen, not for us. What say you, Miriam Traeven's-heir?"

Miriam was unused to be spoken to in this manner by adults, and she stared for a moment before answering. "Well, I don't know much about fighting, or about being a queen. I guess I could try my best."

Asahel nodded at her. Now that he was sure she was the rightful Queen he would serve her with all his heart. "Milady, that is all that we ask of you. We know that you are of tender years, but you are the only one who can hold this throne. We need you." The other councilors spoke their agreement.

Miriam nibbled her lower lip as she thought. Then she gave a short nod, "Alright, I'll do it." The men cheered and she laughed. "We should take the country away from the evil guy. He shouldn't have done bad things." More cheers from her new subjects. "But, are you the only ones who can fight? I mean, there aren't a lot of you."

Thahan stood and bowed, "Milady, we represent only a portion of the fighting strength of Aeral. We are the Wise, but we have yet to call the Faithful. They are those of other races who have remained true to Aeral."

"O yeah!" Miriam shouted, to the amusement of all. "I 'member now, Gazaelle told me about them. Well, shouldn't we ask them what they think? It's their country too, ya know."

Asahel nodded. "Well said, my queen. All of the Faithful should meet their new queen and join in the fight."

Meunin looked at the other members of the Council of the Wise. "Are we all in agreement, then? Should we call a Council of the Faithful?" All of them nodded, and Meunin stood majestically. "Then bring the story-weavers and the song-spinners. Call the hole-diggers, the stargazers, the jewel-makers, the earth-people, and the water-people. Bring them all and let them know that the queen has returned to her people."