Thanks to all my readers for staying with me!! Reviews really remind me that I have people waiting to hear more, and motivate me to write more. Again, updates will be infrequent, but I am not giving this fan fiction up. As usual, the story and its characters belong to Hilari Bell, not me. Also, I will have another update fairly soon after this one, I'm on break and plant to get two or three chapters done :) Enjoyyy!
Chapter 11:
The Knight:
The knight gazed around the well adorned council chamber in hesitation. The seat which the King pointed to was directly across from him. It was unclear which of the two seats were intended for the leader of the goblins, so Tobin took the one offset from the King. "I thought you called this world Itola?" He inquired. King Erol smiled, his wrinkled skin pulling softly into a deep seated expression of amusement. "For today we may call it 'Otherworld' if only to suit the names our guests use." He sat down gracefully, and the rest of the centaur followed. Tobin made sure he was last to sit. Briefly ripping his gaze from the nobly dressed leader of the centaur, he found not a single friendly face save for Commander Marz's and Ambassador Zvonimir's. An unpleasant chill shot up his spine.
"I have many, many questions to ask you, Tobin of the goblins, but we have time for only a fraction of them." King Erol folded his hands business like in front of himself. Tobin watched keenly, the silence of the rest of the room seeming to buzz into his brain. "I don't know if I may be called that, for I am not of the goblins, but of humans. It is my leader, Makenna, who is of the goblins. Not myself." Tobin bowed apologetically while correcting the King. A few whispers broke out, but the King's raised hand silenced all. "Yes, that is what Zvonimir assured me. How is it this young girl came to lead the remnants of an entire race, not even her own?" Tobin frowned, knowing the story was a long and complicated one. Nothing he could say would truly narrate Makenna's life or personality. However, he had to tried.
"By our standards of time, she is not young. She fled her village, and essentially our entire realm, before she'd even been the age to start schooling. Hedgewitches became the victims of a power hungry hierarchy who would not accept their magic. She then met the goblins in her travels, who like Hedgewitches, were being driven from the realm, though they were not on friendly terms with each other at first. After finding her way into their culture, she soon aided them in rebelling." Tobin answered concisely. The King nodded calmly and asked "I wish to know more details, but I will stave my curiosity. May I ask, how did you meet her?" His eyes were solemn, but Tobin felt them penetrating his own. Instead of casting them down, he held strong, refusing stubbornly to yield. "Saying we 'met' suggests we became acquainted on good terms. It's better to say we confronted one another." Gathering the distant memories was as easy as gathering an elusive fog in a glass with no bottom. He paused to think. "I was assigned a mission to rid the realm of goblins and their 'sorceress' leader. It was necessary for me to defend my family name, and prove that I was not the traitor as I had been deemed. To do that I had to plant a stone which would reveal their position to the Hierarchy. I was captured, and held captive for sometime before I came to understand that it was wrong to purge the realm of goblins and hedgewitches. I had planted the stone, but when soldiers came to destroy the goblins, I hardened my resolve to help them escape." He finished, leaving out the details of exactly how Makenna was able to rip open a door to Otherworld in the events after. The King stared at him in silence for what seemed ages. Oddly, the rest of the room was silent. Tobin only just remembered just a few of them spoke his language. "I think this situation is curious, Lordling." The King finally spoke aloud. "I do not quite understand how you come from a world that is so pointlessly violent, yet your people themselves revel in balance with the world rather than conquest. I have heard so from Marz and Zvonimir, who have revealed some of your customs to me. It seems fate brought our people together." The Knight considered the king's statement. Something from another world pushed the goblins to this one, they would have remained in the old Realm had the purge not taken place. Yet they had also chosen to help the centaur, rather than live reclusive as they had in the Old Realm. The goblins seemed changed by Otherworld. Or was it Makenna who had changed them?
"I think that events have come to pass which have brought us together, yes." He finally concluded, all prophetic overtones aside. The King nodded quietly. "I thank you for your knowledge, and now I think you are due an explanation from us." Erol stood solidly from his throne, purple robes stitched delicately with the centaur crest, draped across his powerful human chest. His eyes twinkled. "The Centaur are a race, as you see, half what you call human and horse. We are a very ancient people. By our lore, Itola was formed by beings much greater than anything imaginable, borne of the sun and moon. This land is rough, and delicate, very old, but very young. It does not undergo many changes beyond the seasons. It seems the nature that living creatures depend on ripens and decays as quickly as the nature of your Old Realm. Yet, the rivers, trees, mountains, and plains remain almost the same as they did centuries ago. I'm sure you have taken notice of this, Knight. Your own hair has probably grown very little, though you have been in Itola for quite some time." The King pointed at Tobin's roughly mopped head of hair. Tobin nodded, observing that the kings hair was plaited into regal braids down past his naval. It was easy for him to accept these truths after all his experience in this strange world. Instead of asking the King his overwhelming number of questions, he sat in an appreciative state. The King began to pace the room, glancing at draperies of woven maps and illustrations of what Tobin guessed was lore.
"However, creatures die as easily as twigs may crack. Under the right circumstances, this world allows all creature to live a very long time, if they live in balance with nature, and live peacefully. This balance is why Itola has thrived so. There are other ancient races we know of which have also thrived for all of time. The Gollums of the south and the Treants of the north, are the eldest of all. They hold knowledge of the creation of all things, but we maintain our distance out of respect, regardless of our yearning curiosity. There are too many creatures to name, and many yet undiscovered. The newest arrivals are humans." The King made his rounds circling the table, and finally settled back into his seat. Tobin's ears perked at the mention of humans. He tilted his head ever so slightly. "Humans, you say?" Erol nodded knowingly in response.
"Humans arrived in Itola well before you, sir Knight. We have had brief encounters with a few who stumbled upon an entrance to Otherworld. Yet, the human who we know the most is Agna." A few centaur tore their gazes upward at the mention of the name. Tobin froze. "Agna? How did Agna survive this long? He traveled here ages ago, he is a legend, a Saint to the people of the Old Realm." His mind reeled. If Agna existed, he could help Makenna. He could cure her, and teach her knowledge of the past which had been erased from the books of priests and hedgewitches over time. Before the King could speak again, Tobin finally allowed himself to believe the goblins had been brought to the centaur. "Where is he?" The Knight's tone was deep, mature, and demanding. Marz stubborn face, though friendly, became startled. The Kings face changed only for a moment. "Now, Sir Knight, we arrive at the most important motivation for my bringing you here. The centaur of Ferkai wish to make a deal with you. With the help of your crafty Goblins, we propose a formal alliance against the invading barbarians, of to whom you retain the closest ties. In return, we will protect your small goblin city, and guide you to Agna."
Tobin wanted to agree, but a small feeling in the pit of his stomach urged otherwise. "I cannot make any deal with you. I am not the leader of the goblins. Makenna is the only one who may bargain with you. Moreover, I'm sure you know by Marz or Zvonimir's word that bargains are quite important to the goblins. They will only accept what they deem fair. From trades of knowledge, to food, to aid, they always use careful judgment and consideration. If you respect their customs, you will give us time to cure our leader, and discuss this with our army before expecting a decision."
The King seemed displeased. An unease settled into the room quite rapidly. "If that is your wish. I will give you all the time necessary, but our enemy will not. There is more that meets the eye with you, human. I trust you as much as I trust my commanders and clan leaders, please do not give me reason to do otherwise." The kings words rang clear enough in warning. He stood and turned his gaze to the rest of the council in the chamber. "Marz, will you please explain to the council what has transpired? I wish to ask Tobin a few private questions." Tobin, pushing the limits of his welcome, shook his head. "I cannot, I must begin planning how to find a cure for Makenna. Every second that passes means we are closer...I would never forgive my self if..." he trailed, unable to speak the words which referenced her death. The King examined him closely as they neared the open door to the chamber. "You may go. The next time we speak it is my wish to meet your leader and ask her questions." Erol's words seemed unnatural, and forced. He nodded, and swiftly made his way out of the chamber. The last words in Tobin's ears were the honey like translations of Zvonimir and Marz as they spoke to the rest of the council. He glanced back at the chamber one last time before sprinting to his room.