Chapter 19
Gifts
"While I am glad that you finally decided that you wish to remain with us, I wish you would have reached that conclusion sooner," Tari pouted lightly around a mouthful of soft white cheese. "We both could have been spared a great deal of anguish. I've been fretting for weeks about whether you would choose to return home or not, and while I certainly did not wish to see you depart, not knowing what you would decide was even more painful, in a way."
Atkynd – Telepe, he reminded himself – inclined his head contritely to her as he rolled a date around between his fingers, barely able to meet her eyes. "My apologies," he said quietly. "It was not my intention to cause you undue stress. I'd simply been struggling with the question of whether I could balance my loyalties to my king with my desire to aid the rebellion. I believe my compromise shall suffice for now… though I do still need to send a letter to my king so that I might properly explain the situation."
"Very well. But wait until we've finished eating, at least?" Tari requested. "It's rare that we have any time alone anymore."
"Unfortunately," Telepe agreed, taking a moment to admire their surroundings. They were sitting together at a solitary marble table outside a half-crumbled building that Telepe suspected had once been a bakery for the common Ayleids of Atatar. Tari claimed that she had been wandering through the streets a couple days ago, and she had noticed that in spite of the ruined building marring the landscape, the scenery outside the bakery was quite beautiful. She had invited Telepe to eat with her beneath a golden-leaved tree, its branches laden with deep red apples. Three other tables had been placed at the other corners of the open patio, but none were occupied. Though the spot wasn't exactly secluded, as it was located next to a road where the occasional man or mer wandered by, no one joined them or disturbed them, allowing the pair a quiet moment to themselves.
"I still wish that I could have seen Umaril when he came to the city the other day," Tari remarked as she reached into the wicker basket she had brought, grabbing a wheat roll.
"I thought you had seen him before," Telepe frowned, pouring a bit more wine into his clay cup. "You were at the festival in Miscaracand, after all."
"Slaves aren't exactly given leave to roam about as they please," Tari pointed out bluntly. When Telepe winced, she smiled slightly and added in a softer tone, "I did see him during Sanguinalia, yes. He was difficult to miss – when he wasn't brawling in the center of the city, he was making time to speak with every other Ayleid there. Even then, though, I only saw him while he was reveling. While he was certainly imposing, I've heard the rumors from the other men. They say that in his golden armor, he looked almost… mythical."
Telepe raised an eyebrow at her over the rim of his glass as he took a slow sip. "It almost sounds as though you're admiring him," he remarked as he lowered his cup.
"I'm not. Or rather, I don't idolize him, if that's what you're suggesting" Tari replied, shaking her head. "Rather… if he's as awe-inspiring as the tales are making him out to be, it makes the Paravant's defiance of him that much more impressive, doesn't it?"
Telepe tilted his head back thoughtfully, and then a slight smile spread across his face. "You make a good point," he conceded, chuckling when he noticed her pleased grin. "Yes, he was… magnificent and terrible at the same time. I don't know if I'd have had the courage to face him as she did."
"I believe you would," Tari said nonchalantly. Telepe blinked at her in surprise, and she added, "You're not as brash as Whitestrake or as implacable as Morihaus, but you have your own inner strength. I've seen it often enough. You're certainly no coward."
"You flatter me," Telepe said modestly, bowing to her, and then grinning when she scowled with annoyance. "I do understand why you're disappointed. His arrival was quite the spectacle," he added. "But I've heard from Farilel that your absence wasn't in vain."
"Oh… well, yes, I've made some progress in my studies…." Tari admitted, suddenly seeming flustered.
"Will you show me?" Telepe requested, setting his glass down. He propped one elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm, watching her patiently.
Tari flushed, but when his bright grey eyes continued to linger on her, she held out her hand with her palm facing upwards and closed her eyes. Telepe remained silent as she concentrated for a few seconds, and then she muttered something under her breath – Telepe couldn't be certain, but it sounded like the word "Belle." Blue-white sparks began jumping and crackling between her fingertips, and the smell of ozone filled the air as she opened her eyes to see Telepe beaming at her.
"Outstanding!" he exclaimed, leaning a bit closer to inspect her hand.
"I… still lack both the power and control necessary to cast a proper thunderbolt," Tari murmured modestly.
"Even learning this much in such a short amount of time is astounding," Telepe assured her, looking up from her hand with a warm smile as the sparks slowly dissipated. "Truthfully, I'm a bit envious. My master attempted to teach me this spell a few times, and I've never even come close to producing sparks like this. Between this and your skill with your flame spell, you've already exceeded my magical abilities in terms of both power and variety." His smile softened as he added, "I'm proud of you."
He reached for her hand to emphasize his praise, but stopped with his arm in midair as he suddenly realized what he was doing. Tari recognized his intent, and she caught his eye, giving him an almost hopeful look. Telepe felt his heart pounding, and he swallowed, then dropped his hand into the wicker basket instead to pluck a fresh pear from it. He inwardly grimaced as Tari gave him a disappointed look and bit into her bread almost sullenly. His stomach sank as an awkward silence loomed between them, and he found himself unable to meet her eye.
"Ah! So, this is where you two were," a voice commented, mercifully breaking the tension hanging in the air. Tari and Telepe both turned to see Perrif standing on the other side of the patio fence, accompanied by Morihaus. She was dressed in a drab brown robe and wore a warm smile as she put her hands on the fence to lean on it. "I hope I'm not interrupting," she added, her eyes dancing with interest as they flitted between the pair, an almost catlike smile spreading across her lips.
"We were almost finished," Tari answered shortly. Telepe winced again at the bite in her voice. "Our apologies. Did you require our presence?"
"Not if you two are still eating," Perrif insisted. "I know you two have been quite busy lately, and quiet moments are rare…."
"Tari is right, we're just about done with our meal," Telepe agreed. "And this sounds important."
Perrif quirked her mouth in a slight frown, but then she inclined her head. "Thank you. I'd like to speak with you in private, so let's return to the palace. Would you both walk with me?"
Telepe gathered up the basket as he and Tari rose from their seats, and they fell in step beside Perrif as she guided them down the street back to the palace. As they walked, Telepe noticed that the human citizens of Atatar scrambled to move out of the way of the quartet, especially Perrif, as though they were horrified that they were impeding her path. A few even bowed to her as she passed. Telepe thought he heard her sigh under her breath the second time it happened, though when he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her face was as placid and serene as ever.
The Ayleids, meanwhile, gave her a much cooler reception as she passed them by. One or two openly glared at her, though none dared do more with Morihaus looming behind her. It was hardly surprising that she was unpopular with them; aside from the fact that she had conquered their city, some seemed to feel that being declared equal to their former slaves was a demotion in social status for them. Still, she had been merciful enough to let them keep their homes, and there had been no riots or assassination attempts thus far. While the city was tense, it was stable, at least for the moment.
When they arrived at the palace, a pair of guards pushed open the heavy double doors for them, and Perrif led the group inside. Pelinal was already inside, pacing back and forth near the throne. Telepe had noticed that the knight had become increasingly restless in the past few days, clearly eager to continue their campaign against the elves. As the quartet approached, he stopped pacing and bowed to Perrif, then he grinned at Morihaus and jerked his head in greeting to Tari, while once again ignoring Telepe altogether.
"If you'd join us, Pelinal," she requested. The knight grunted and fell into step behind her as she guided them out of the throne room and into the private meeting room where Morihaus had outlined his plans for addressing the phalanx's weaknesses. Perrif motioned for them to take their seats around the round marble table, though only Tari and Telepe did so – Pelinal and Morihaus remained standing by the door.
"Once again, my apologies for interrupting your meal," Perrif said, inclining her head. "What I have to say is important, but I'll try to be brief. I believe that we've done an excellent job thus far preparing ourselves for an attack from the other Ayleid kingdoms. Our men seem more confident fighting in the phalanx formation, and trade has begun to flow freely along the southern Niben. However, despite this, last night I received a… disturbing omen."
"What sort of omen?" Tari asked slowly.
"A dream, rather," Perrif amended herself. "Almost like a vision, though not as vivid as those I've received in the past." She closed her eyes as her voice grew softer. "In my dream, I was standing waist-deep in a river. I saw a golden figure wreathed in white feathers bowing before a radiant sun that shone with all the colors of the rainbow. He then turned and faced me, holding a golden rope in his hands. He fashioned the rope into a noose, and then he cast it around my neck. He then dragged me through the water, pulling me towards him, and as I struggled for air, he cackled with laughter.
"Even as I fought against him, I saw something shining behind him – brighter, even, than my attacker. I peered around him and saw a brilliant, golden hill shimmering in the distance. Atop the hill were distant figures – few at first, but they quickly grew in number. A great city rose on top of the hill, and from it, I heard voices singing in unison. My attacker finally turned to see a horde of warriors descend upon him from this hill, and as he turned away, his grip on me loosened. With him distracted, I drew a dagger from my belt, and as I plunged it into his back, his scream echoed in my ears. I woke shortly after, though I could still feel the rope around my neck."
Perrif opened her eyes to see Telepe staring at her with a bemused look, his eyebrow raised in confusion. "Forgive me, but I'm not particularly well-versed in interpreting dreams," he confessed.
"The river… that's the Niben River, isn't it?" Tari piped up, her green eyes widening. "And the golden figure must be Umaril, or the Ayleids? So… if we remain in the Niben River, we'll be strangled?"
"Trapped, rather," Morihaus snorted, folding his arms over his chest. "The Niben River is a good, defensible location, but at the same time, we are fighting with our backs against a wall, so to speak. If the Ayleid Empire musters a large enough army, it can simply crush us under sheer weight of numbers, and eventually we shall have nowhere to retreat to."
"So then you're proposing that we continue our push north?" Telepe asked, frowning.
"That's the only direction we can expand if we wish to free Cyrod," Perrif replied. "However, the point of my dream, I believe, was to emphasize that so long as we continue to expand solely along the Niben River, we will eventually be defeated. Thus, I am proposing that we instead attack a different location, to divert the Ayleids' attention. And the location I have selected, I am basing off of the second part of my dream."
Telepe exhaled slowly, tapping his fingers as he gazed down at the table. "Very well… you escaped the river and found salvation on a golden hill…." As he spoke those words, something sparked in the back of his mind – a conversation he'd had with Haromir some time ago in Fanacasecul. He suddenly looked up, his eyes widening. "Golden hill… Sancre Tor? You intend to travel to Sancre Tor?!" he exclaimed incredulously.
"Not merely to travel to it, but to secure it as a new outpost for the rebellion," Perrif elaborated. "It is remote, defensible, and rich enough to sustain itself. I believe it will also be an important symbolic victory if we take it – claiming for humanity the city where I received my visions, and where the rebellion first began. It shall be the seed of a northern campaign to supplement the ongoing southern campaign to liberate the Niben River."
"Sancre Tor is on the other side of Cyrod!" Telepe protested. "How do you intend to move your army hundreds of miles?! And all to conquer one city?!"
"I wouldn't move the entire army," Perrif replied with a frown, as though that was obvious. "That would attract too much attention, and I do not intend to surrender our southern holdings. No, the majority of our existing army would remain here in the Blackwood. I only intend to send a small force north to capture Sancre Tor."
"How small?" Tari asked, folding her arms on the table.
"Morihaus and I have been discussing that. We believe anything larger than a century would draw the attention of our Ayleid enemies," Perrif answered.
A long pause hung in the air as Telepe stared at Perrif blankly. "…You intend to conquer Sancre Tor with a hundred men?" he asked, his voice faint with disbelief.
"It's not impossible," Perrif replied serenely. "You captured Telepe with only a hundred men, after all."
"I traded a city for a fortress! I did not assault a kingdom with one hundred warriors!" Telepe cried. "Furthermore, while they were unnecessary, we also had reinforcements waiting deeper in the jungle if our negotiations failed! This company you intend to send shall be completely isolated!"
"Which is why it shall be comprised of my very best," Perrif replied calmly. "While I need Morihaus to oversee the army here in the Blackwood, I intend to send Pelinal with this century. He is worth a thousand warriors by himself," she added, smiling warmly over at her champion.
"You flatter me, my lady," Pelinal muttered, inclining his head. As he looked up again, he narrowed his eerie blue eyes at Telepe. "Rest assured, you needn't fear for their safety. Disregard the opinions of cowards."
"Courage is one thing, but this proposal is suicidal," Telepe retorted stubbornly.
Perrif folded her hands in front of her, inclining her head. "I do not disagree with you that this is a dangerous plan. Were it not for my faith in my visions, I would not have proposed it," she said patiently. "As I said, I have already discussed this with Morihaus. He voiced many of the same concerns that you have. It was his suggestion that we only commit a small force to secure Sancre Tor, while the majority remain behind in the Blackwood, as that is where the Ayleids are likely to concentrate their forces at first. This way, if our force is discovered, and the worst comes to pass, we shall minimize our losses."
Telepe shot Morihaus a curious look, and the bull nodded in confirmation. "A century of men will be sufficient," he explained, reinforcing what Perrif had already stated. "It is small enough to escape the notice of the Ayleid kings, while still large enough to defend itself if attacked. Especially if my uncle accompanies them."
"The risk of this plan is also greatly offset by the potential reward," Perrif added, tilting her chin up slightly. "Consider for a moment what we stand to gain if we succeed."
"Very well," Telepe said slowly, folding his arms over his chest and looking down. "Let us suppose we do manage to capture the city. If this plan succeeds, the first thing that I foresee is that Sancre Tor shall be immediately besieged by the Ayleids. A mere one hundred men cannot hope to hold out against a full Ayleid army, even with Whitestrake accompanying them."
"Only if that number remains a mere hundred," Perrif countered. "Which brings me to another point – I would like you to be part of this group that I send north."
Telepe looked up, his eyes widening with surprise, and then he felt the color draining from his face. "You… you wish for me to-?" he stammered.
"Your diplomatic skills shall be invaluable," Perrif insisted. "Between Pelinal's martial prowess and your talent for negotiation, I believe we would be able to swiftly liberate hundreds of slaves and quickly build a northern army that could easily stand against any Ayleid counterattack."
"If this plan succeeds!" Telepe repeated, his voice cracking slightly under his growing strain. "And even if we free more slaves, it's not as though we will be able to replicate Morihaus' phalanx, especially if he remains in the south to oversee the army here!"
"You shall not be expected to train them. Whitestrake shall be accompanied by three of my most trusted centurions. They, in turn, shall each be accompanied by thirty of their best men, and they will form the core of a new legion. They shall oversee the training of the new warriors," Perrif assured him. Then a smile spread across her lips. "Besides, while the freed slaves shall indeed be valuable additions to our growing rebellion, I would like you to concentrate your diplomatic efforts on gaining the favor of a far more powerful potential ally that lies near Sancre Tor."
Telepe frowned slightly. "The Ayleids of the north shall be no more amenable to-" Then he stopped, suddenly realizing what Perrif was asking. When she saw a look of recognition dawn on his face, Perrif's smile broadened.
"Skyrim," he said slowly. "You intend to forge an alliance with the Nordic Empire."
"I believe that the Nords will be particularly sympathetic to our plight," Perrif explained calmly. "Not only do they harbor a burning hatred for the elven races, many of their own people have also been abducted by the Ayleids over the years. In fact, when I was in Sancre Tor, I overheard one of the overseers mention that they had established a lucrative slaving outpost just inside the borders of Skyrim, where they were abducting and sending men-of-'kreath south into Cyrod. I have little doubt that the Nords would be more than willing to assist us, with a bit of persuasion."
Telepe swallowed and looked down again. He was quite familiar with the Nords – or at least their reputation. They had often threatened the borders of his own kingdom, though thus far they had been kept at bay, and had not yet crossed the Bjoulsae River that protected his king's lands. There were also worrying stories of their first encounter with a band of Manmer. Some years ago, a Nordic hunting party had stumbled upon a band of Manmer in the forest and had initially mistaken them for full elves. This had apparently been all the reason the Nords had required to begin slaughtering the mer-blooded travelers, and they had only ceased their attack when one of the Manmeri party had pleaded with them in Nordic to stop. Only then had the Manmer been allowed to explain that they also had human blood, and that the Nords were slaughtering their own kin. Though the Nords had since tried to establish friendlier relations with the humans living in Malabal, Telepe still had reservations about actively seeking out a people that might attack him on sight due to his elven blood. He feared it would be like trying to treat with an entire race of Whitestrakes.
However, that wasn't his decision to make, he reluctantly reminded himself. He had committed himself to aiding the rebellion, and the Nords could indeed be powerful allies to Cyrod's human population. If Perrif wanted him to negotiate on her behalf, he should at least respect her wishes and make an effort to do so, despite his personal misgivings.
As Telepe mulled over her request, Perrif turned to his companion and added, "I would also like you to accompany this group, Tari." The young woman's eyes widened as Perrif explained, "Your services as a healer will be invaluable, of course, but it is your swift mastery of magic that has particularly impressed me. While you continue your studies, I would also like for you to remain vigilant for any other humans that might possess magical talent. If you find any, then please take it upon yourself to train them. I wish to eventually have mages of our own to counter those the Ayleids are certain to field."
"I… I am hardly fit to teach anyone yet," Tari stammered. "I am still a novice when it comes to spellcasting. Atk-… Telepe would be a better candidate than I."
"Telepe shall already be occupied with his negotiations," Perrif insisted. "He also wields a more subtle magic than what I wish for my mages to learn. While his ability to charm others is useful, I believe that fire and lightning will have far more value on the battlefield. I also understand that you learn spells remarkably swiftly, and I suspect that you shall continue to do so, so I wish for you to be our first dedicated mage. With that said, I also intend to have your teacher accompany you, so that you may continue studying with her in the meantime."
"Prince Dynar would permit that? Has he already agreed to this proposal?" Telepe frowned, suddenly realizing that he hadn't seen the Ayleid prince that day.
"He has already departed to discuss it with his father," Perrif replied. "I intended to meet with him in Nenalata in a few days so that we may speak with their king about bolstering Nenalata's defenses. This is simply one other facet of our strategy that we shall present to them."
Telepe sighed, squeezing his upper arm. "You're putting a great deal of faith in just a few men," he insisted. "What if this scheme of yours fails? You shall lose many of your most valuable warriors in one fell swoop."
"There is a great deal of risk, but I do not believe that this is a foolish decision," Perrif replied, stepping closer to peer up at Telepe, pinning him with her bright blue gaze. "I am basing this plan upon faith. I have faith that the gods shall not lead me astray. I have faith in Pelinal to protect my men and deliver them victory. I have faith in my chosen warriors to fight like lions, and in my chosen guides to lead them safely through Cyrod. I have faith that Tari shall unlock the secrets of magic for our rebellion. And I have faith in you, and your remarkable silver speech." Perrif grinned slightly as she drew out the words "tel epe," "silver speech," emphasizing his adopted name.
Telepe sighed to himself, running his hand over his face. "Very well," he reluctantly agreed in a defeated tone. "Truthfully, you might have more luck than I serving as a negotiator, considering how easily you're able to even sway me. Are you certain you don't wish to take my place?" he added sardonically, chuckling.
"Quite certain," Perrif nodded. "Though… admittedly, it is tempting to accompany you. Perhaps…." she murmured, so softly that he almost didn't hear her. Telepe's smile dropped immediately, but before he could ask her what she meant, she turned away, addressing the others. "For now – Pelinal, Morihaus? Let us gather the men that we've selected. We march at noon."
The sky was overcast when the rebel army set out from Atatar the next morning. Contrary to Telepe's expectations that they would only bring the hundred warriors that Perrif had selected, a full eight centuries marched from the city. He had wondered about this at first, but then he recalled that Perrif had mentioned bolstering the defenses of Nenalata, so he assumed that the remaining men were part of a vanguard to help defend their northernmost ally in case the Ayleid counterattack came sooner than expected.
The first few days of travel were somewhat lonely for Telepe. Pasare was assigned to scout the roads ahead of the column, on the off-chance that remnants of Morihame's army or the exiled Atatar forces were waiting to ambush the army on the road. Tari was wholly absorbed in her magical training, and she was spending much of her time in the company of her teacher, Farilel, an elderly Ayleid woman with short grey hair and a weathered but kind face. Twice, he rode over to see how her training was progressing, but each time the Ayleid woman had firmly shooed him away, insisting that her student required solitude to concentrate on her studies.
Since Dynar had also departed a few days earlier, Telepe had few of his usual companions to chat with on the road. The only other person he was comfortable around was Perrif, and he was very hesitant to chat with her about trivial matters, especially in front of her warriors. Though he liked her personally – and it was clear that the feeling was mutual – she carried an air of majesty about her in public that he didn't want to break by casually approaching her. Not that Whitestrake would have permitted it anyways.
Still, though he couldn't find time to speak with his companions on the road, it wasn't as though Telepe was idle while they were traveling. While they journeyed, he began studying the new trade routes connecting the southern cities they had liberated. He found himself spending much of his time with Vestev, the army's quartermaster. Vestev was a stocky young man with short black hair and tanned skin, who seemed to have the entire camp inventory stored in the back of his mind. He was also good with his hands – when one of their carts had broken down, not only had he immediately procured another wheel that Telepe didn't even realize they'd had in their supplies, he had even personally repaired the broken vehicle, which was once again trundling down the road within fifteen minutes.
As a former trade advisor for the Arpenian nobles, Vestev also had in-depth knowledge of the various goods each city in the southern Niben produced. Thus, Telepe often asked him for his input about which items each city might have demand for, and how the other kingdoms in their alliance might oblige. Vestev admitted that his knowledge beyond the Nibenay Basin was limited, but he could at least offer suggestions. By the time they had reached the Panther River, Telepe and Vestev had devised an elaborate trade proposal to secure horses for Morihaus, and for as little cost to the rebellion as possible.
The day after they crossed the Panther River, the army once again passed by the road leading to the ruins of Morahame. A grim silence settled over the rebels as they marched by the fork in the road. Despite himself, Telepe couldn't resist peering down the narrow road towards the city. Though he could hardly make it out through the gaps in the trees, Telepe glimpsed the broken white marble walls still littering the mud around the fallen city-state.
After their victory over the kingdom, Morahame had been sacked and razed. Though Telepe normally advocated against such total destruction, after witnessing the horrors that the followers of Mehrunes Dagon had wrought, and the destruction they had nearly brought to Nirn, he had made an exception. He had pretended not to hear the screams and cries of the Ayleids in the city as Pelinal had butchered them, and instead focused on how much wealth the loot from the city had brought the rebellion – enough that Atatar was well on its way to full recovery, in fact, with plenty left to spare. The Paravant's men now feared that Morahame's ruins were cursed, and though Telepe had his doubts, he nevertheless felt a shiver run up his spine as he beheld the ruins of the shattered city.
Once Morahame was behind them, it took the army another three days to reach the walls of Nenalata. Shortly after the city came into view, Perrif sent a few of her scouts ahead to announce their arrival. By the time the rest of the army arrived at the base of the walls, Nenalata had already arranged a royal welcome for them. Two dozen Ayleid warriors dressed in polished bronze armor flanked the front gates, forming twin rows to create a path for the army to enter the city. Just inside the gates waited the King of Nenalata, sitting astride a roan stallion, a rich blue cloak draped over his ornate bronze armor. He was flanked by eight Ayleid warriors, though none had their weapons drawn. As the Paravant's army approached, he chuckled fondly and held his hands out in greeting.
"It is good to see you again, my friends!" he announced jovially. Telepe raised an eyebrow, though he was careful not to let the king see it. His behavior was a marked change from the paranoid, suspicious ruler that he had first met crouching on his throne, wary of his own shadow. It would seem that the flourishing trade the alliance had brought to his city had alleviated his suspicions about his new allies, Telepe mused.
"We are honored by your welcome, Your Majesty," Perrif replied diplomatically, inclining her head politely, though she didn't quite bow. "You didn't need to go through all this trouble simply to greet us."
"Nonsense!" the king assured her, waving off her concerns. "This isn't the place for a proper reception, however. Come! Your men shall find meals waiting for them in the barracks, and I would be honored if you and your entourage were to join me in the palace." With that, King Dynar turned and began riding back to the palace, pausing only to glance over his shoulder to see if they were following him.
After a moment of hesitation, Perrif turned to face her advisors and centurions. "Centurions, see to your men," she announced. "Pelinal, Morihaus, Telepe… Tari. If you'd accompany me?" she requested. Pelinal and Morihaus immediately began following her, but Tari remained frozen in place, clearly stunned at being spontaneously included as part of the Paravant's entourage. Telepe grinned at her broadly, amused by her reaction. When she continued to hesitate, however, he stepped forward and grasped her wrist, then half-pulled her along behind him until she found her footing and began hurriedly following the rest of the group.
As they walked through the streets, Telepe gazed around, comparing the current state of Nenalata to his earlier visit to the kingdom. Despite the king's implication that they now had a surplus of food with which to feed the Paravant's army, Telepe noticed that the city still could not yet be said to be flourishing. The people still appeared thin and ragged, and the market stalls remained half-empty. However, he also noticed that there was no longer an air of misery about the city, nor a sense of paranoia. The people walked with their heads held higher, and they spoke more openly to one another. Though they watched the Paravant's army suspiciously, their wariness seemed undercut by a cautious optimism – they clearly didn't fully trust their new human allies, but they at least seemed willing to tolerate their presence. There was a sense of hope, Telepe realized, which hadn't been in the city the last time he had visited. And that in and of itself was a marked improvement.
The king led them through his throne room and into an ornate dining chamber, where a large, rectangular table carved of marble dominated the center of the room. To Telepe's surprise, a figure was already seated in one of the chairs – a young mer who looked up and grinned as the party entered.
"Well now, I was wondering when you all might arrive," Prince Dynar remarked as he pushed himself up, inclining his head in a bow.
"We departed shortly after you did, Prince Dynar. Thank you once again for your assistance," Perrif said warmly.
"And thank you for yours, my lady," the prince replied softly. "Nenalata owes you a debt of gratitude, both for aiding us against our enemies and for providing us with new allies." As Perrif bowed her head modestly, Prince Dynar glanced past her and shot Telepe and Tari a wink, which they both answered with a grin.
"That we do. So please, allow us to show our appreciation," King Dynar agreed as he sank into a seat at the head of the table and motioned for the others to sit as well. Perrif took the chair at the opposite end, and the others settled in to the open chairs, save for Morihaus, who remained standing at an open spot at the table.
Once they were seated, servants immediately entered the room, carrying amphorae of wine and silver bowls filled with a thick stew made from game fowl and wild vegetables. Telepe noted that while most of the servants were human, there were a few Ayleids also setting out the dishes. It seemed that the king was indeed trying to honor his pledge to treat the humans as citizens, rather than slaves. However, as they departed, Telepe also noticed that two of the elves seemed disgusted to be serving human guests. Naturally, such attitudes would take time to change, Telepe thought to himself.
"Please, eat," the king invited them. Once they had taken their first bites, he continued, "Now… one of your scouts informed me that you have a new campaign in mind. May I ask for an explanation?"
While the others ate, Perrif spent the next few minutes explaining her dream, her interpretation of it, and how she intended to implement her plan. King Dynar remained silent, though Telepe kept a close watch on his face. It was evident from his expression that he was skeptical about her claims, but he didn't interrupt her. When she had finished, he folded his arms and sat back in his chair with a grave, thoughtful look on his face.
"I'll not tell you how to use your men… though frankly, I personally believe that your plan is foolish," King Dynar commented. Pelinal growled and started to rise from his chair, his hand on his sword, but a look from Perrif stopped him. The Ayleid king continued as though he hadn't noticed. "Nevertheless, since this is such a small force, I shall not raise an objection, as it will not significantly detract from our defense against a northern invasion. Though I confess, I do wish your champion would remain behind to bolster our forces."
"Pelinal is integral to the northern campaign. In truth, I doubt it will succeed without him," Perrif replied. "What's more, if it succeeds, it shall relieve some of the pressure from an Ayleid invasion, and you shall not need his aid."
"Well… at the very least, it shall provide a distraction that may divert some of the enemy's forces, should they choose to pursue this century of yours," King Dynar shrugged. "What of the rest of your warriors, then?"
"They shall remain in the south, where we shall continue to wage a conventional war," Perrif answered. "I have brought seven centuries to reinforce your garrison here, and over two thousand men are being kept in reserve throughout the rest of the Niben. We are also training another few centuries, though those men cannot yet be called warriors. Soon, though," she added with a smile.
"Excellent! I'm pleased that you are honoring our alliance in more than simply name, Lady Paravant. It's a welcome change," King Dynar added. When Perrif tilted her head curiously, the Ayleid sighed and looked away, a morose expression on his face. "I've become far too used to 'allies' barely adhering to the terms of our alliance, if at all. For most kingdoms, an alliance is little more than a temporary truce, which shall inevitably be broken as soon as one kingdom possesses an advantage over the other."
"Rest assured, I have no intention of betraying any of my allies," Perrif replied in a firm tone. "We stand to gain far more by working together without seeking weaknesses in our comrades that we might exploit when it suits us."
"Well said," King Dynar nodded, setting down his spoon and pushing his empty bowl away. "And in that spirit of cooperation and harmony, I have gifts I wish to present to you all before we continue this banquet."
Perrif's entourage glanced at each other as the king rose from his chair. Telepe shot Prince Dynar a querying look, but the prince simply grinned at him, seeming particularly pleased with himself for some reason.
"First, so long as your men are stationed here, I shall ensure that they are fed, watered, and provided with whatever arms, armor, and healing they require," King Dynar began. "This, of course, is the least I can do in exchange for the protection they're providing my city. I'm simply glad that we now have the resources to accommodate a larger garrison, so that we can now provide more than the bare minimum. Your men shall reside here in as much comfort as I can offer."
"That is quite generous of you, Your Majesty," Perrif said with a bow of her head.
King Dynar smiled faintly, folding his hands behind his back. "As for this century you intend to send north… these shall be your finest warriors, yes?"
"Yes. So that they have the greatest chance of success, I shall assign none but my best to this task," Perrif confirmed.
"Then they should have arms and armor to match," King Dynar stated. "I shall allow you access to my armory, and if your men possess arms that are inferior to ours, I shall permit them to peruse our stores and take what they feel they shall require for this expedition."
Perrif's eyes widened slightly. "That is… thank you, Your Majesty."
"Well, if you're intent on pursuing this mad scheme, we should at least ensure that it has a reasonable chance of success, mm?" King Dynar chuckled. "And as your men are protecting my kingdom, so too shall I do my part in protecting your warriors. That is the nature of an alliance, is it not?"
"That is my hope," Perrif nodded, smiling faintly.
"I have also selected gifts for you all personally – tokens of my thanks for your aid in ridding us of Morahame. Were it not for you, we may well have had to face Mehrunes Dagon himself," King Dynar said grimly. "Thus, please allow me to express my personal appreciation to those of you that are present." Perrif opened her mouth for a moment, then closed it and inclined her head. "First, if I may address you, champion?" he asked, turning to Pelinal.
"I have no need for your gifts, elf," Pelinal growled.
"Pelinal," Perrif said in voice that was somehow calm yet chiding. The knight turned his head towards her, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
"There are no arms that he could provide me that are superior to those that I already possess," Pelinal snarled. "Not that I would deign to wield anything of elven craft anyways."
"No… I imagine you wouldn't. Your antipathy towards us Ayleids is well-known," King Dynar retorted evenly. "But if you shall not accept a gift from the elves… perhaps you shall deign to accept one from your fellow men." He motioned towards the window, and the Paravant's party rose to peer curiously outside as a servant opened the shutters. Standing in the courtyard was an elven woman holding the reins of a magnificent white stallion, standing placidly on the grass. Though it was docile, its stance was noble, prideful even. Telepe hid a smirk as he realized it did indeed remind him of Pelinal.
"This stallion is the largest and strongest of the horses in my stables, and the only one I believe capable of bearing the weight of your armor," King Dynar explained. "He is courageous, and he has never shied away from the whip. However, he is also obedient, so long as you treat him with a firm hand. If you intend to travel the breadth of Cyrod, there is no better creature to bear you." The king smiled faintly and added, "The stories of your heroism have already spread like wildfire within my walls, and my human citizens wished to present you with a steed that could speed you on your quest to liberate the other humans. You are their hope, and they wish to share that hope with the other slaves in Cyrod."
Pelinal stared at the horse for several long moments, unmoving. Tension hung in the air as everyone awaited his response. Finally, the knight snarled without turning around, "Very well. It will do." Telepe caught Perrif's eye, and the two exchanged amused smiles as the knight turned back around and sank into his seat again.
King Dynar nodded and raised his right hand. A balding human man approached, carrying a small wooden chest, which he set on the table before Morihaus. The man-bull curiously opened the lid and peered inside. Telepe craned his neck and saw several sheets of rolled papyrus stacked neatly on top of each other within the chest.
"For you, General Morihaus, I present the most detailed maps we have available. My scribes have worked tirelessly for the past week copying these for you. Within you shall find a map of Cyrod, as well as regional maps detailing the kingdoms of the Niben River. Unfortunately, our knowledge of the other kingdoms in Cyrod is limited, but we at least strove to provide you with rough estimations of the areas as far north as Lipsand Tarn, and as far west as Miscarcand."
Morihaus withdrew one of the maps and unfurled it, then closely examined a map outlining the terrain surrounding the kingdom of Bawn to the north. The city walls were outlined in bright red ink, with the blue Niben River noted to the east, and the forested jungle to the west. Telepe noticed details as precise as the height of nearby hills and the varied width of a road that passed along the western border of the kingdom.
"Impressive. If these maps are as accurate as you claim, they shall be invaluable in planning future campaigns," Morihaus commented as he carefully rolled the scroll up and placed it surprisingly gently back into the chest. "You have my gratitude, Your Majesty."
"Think nothing of it, General," King Dynar replied amiably. He then turned to Perrif. "And for you, Lady Paravant-"
"You needn't trouble yourself, Your Majesty," Perrif said quickly, holding up her hand as she smiled almost shyly. "Anything you might present to me would be better served ensuring that your warriors are well-equipped for the battles to come."
King Dynar chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "No… what I wish to present you with is not mere equipment." He held his hand out, and a female Nedic woman approached him shyly, handing him something attached to a leather cord. The king nodded to her, then extended his hand towards Perrif with a smile. In his palm rested a large bronze key.
Perrif stared at the key for a long moment, then hesitantly looked up at him. "Is this…?" she asked softly.
"This is the master key to every slave shackle in Nenalata," King Dynar explained calmly. "While I have adhered to our agreement and begun the process of integrating our human population into the kingdom as full citizens, I wish to demonstrate my sincerity. Take this, and you shall hold the literal key to their liberation."
"…You could always forge new chains," Perrif pointed out slowly.
"I could," the king admitted. "But I shall not. If you truly intend to liberate all of Cyrod, then know that you shall have it in your power to ensure that at least one kingdom remains free."
Perrif stared silently at the key for several long moments before reaching out and gently taking it from King Dynar's hand. "Thank you. I am uncertain if you realize how grateful I am for this gesture, Your Majesty."
"You and your men delivered us from our enemies to the south. You saved us from a potential Daedric invasion, and you have begun to bring prosperity back to our kingdom. The least we can do is ensure that you are assured of the fact that we intend to uphold the agreement as well, my friend," King Dynar replied with a warm smile.
"As you say. I look forward to our continued friendship, then," Perrif smiled as she slipped the key around her neck.
"Very good. Now then!" King Dynar added, turning to Telepe and Tari. "My son has also prepared gifts for you two. As he has traveled with you and sees you both as trusted companions, I feel it is appropriate that he present them."
Telepe felt a jolt of pleased embarrassment at the pronouncement, and he noticed Tari flushing beside him. Prince Dynar grinned as he rose from his seat while Telepe and Tari traded curious looks. Two servants approached, one holding a deep square chest, and the other a long, thin wooden box. Prince Dynar took the square chest first and approached Tari, who turned an even deeper shade of red at suddenly being made the center of attention.
"Tari, I know that you wish to further your study of magic, but I'm afraid that there is little that I can do to aid you that the court mages cannot do better," the prince admitted regretfully. "However, I believe that I can at least aid you with your other area of expertise."
Prince Dynar unclasped the chest and opened it to reveal a mortar and pestle set cushioned by a blue linen cloth. The mortar and pestle were carved from smooth white marble, clearly of the highest quality available. Tari's eyes widened, her fingers trembling slightly on the lid of the chest.
"This… I have only ever seen my master use a mortar of this quality before," she murmured. She started to reach for the box, then hesitated and glanced up at Prince Dynar furtively, clearly unsure as to whether she was even allowed to take the present from him. The prince chuckled and motioned for her to proceed, whereupon she delicately lifted the mortar and turned it over in her hands. She seemed to be in a state of mild shock, and with her eyes transfixed on her gift, Telepe caught the prince's eye. Dynar grinned even more broadly, which Telepe responded to with a soft laugh.
"You should find one other gift in there as well," Prince Dynar added, turning back to Tari.
Tari frowned and ran her hand over the linen interior of the box. A moment later, she withdrew a small scroll, which she unfurled and peered at curiously.
"What is this?" she asked.
"That is a list of alchemical recipes that our court alchemist has compiled," Prince Dynar explained. "I was uncertain if you already knew them, but I asked him to include them anyways."
"I… thank you, Your Highness," Tari murmured. "However, I cannot read."
"I could read them to you, if you like," Telepe offered.
Tari glanced at him, smiling faintly. "Or you could teach me to read," she pointed out.
"I could," Telepe agreed with a grin. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Perrif glance at him, though she didn't say anything, and when he turned to her, she had already looked away again.
"In any case, I hope you enjoy your gift, Tari," Prince Dynar continued.
"I do. In truth, I'm uncertain how to properly express my gratitude, much less how to repay you," Tari said shyly.
"Your thanks is more than enough," Prince Dynar assured her with a warm smile. "And you may repay me by using them often."
"I assure you, I shall," Tari nodded, gently setting the tools back into the box before closing the lid.
Prince Dynar nodded and turned to Telepe. "As for you, my friend…." He motioned to the servant holding the long box, who set it on the table and stepped back.
Telepe shot the Ayleid prince a probing look, but Dynar's smug grin didn't reveal anything. Telepe scowled with disappointment, then turned back to the box and gently put his hands on the bronze clasp. As he slowly lifted the lid, his mouth fell open and he let out a soft gasp.
Resting on a long white strip of cloth was a beautiful sword, sheathed in a black leather scabbard, capped with bronze filigree at both ends. The hilt was likewise made of polished bronze, with the grip also wrapped in black leather. The crossguard was an elegant V-shape, designed to deflect enemy blades that ran up the length of the sword. An oval-shaped, aqua-colored Welkynd stone was set in the center of the crossguard, while the pommel had been fashioned into a diamond shape, within which rested a brilliant white piece of Varla stone. Telepe gently lifted the weapon from the box and turned it over in his hands, then gripped the hilt tightly and slowly drew the blade.
The sword didn't make a sound as it was pulled from its scabbard. The bronze blade was longer than most Telepe had seen – perhaps about four feet long – and very slender. Though it did possess a cutting edge, the way it tapered to a fine point indicated that it was meant to be used as more of a thrusting weapon. Telepe stepped away from the others and dropped into a dueling stance, then gave the sword a few experimental swings and thrusts. Despite its length, it was no heavier than the shortswords Telepe was used to, and it was very well-balanced.
"This… this is one of the most beautiful ceremonial swords I've ever seen," Telepe said as he lowered the sword and turned back to Prince Dynar.
Prince Dynar let out a soft laugh. "Ah… yes, in your formal attire, you shall be rather impressive bearing that sword. However, that blade is not simply decorative."
Telepe raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You would have me wield it on the battlefield?"
"Yes… though it may offer you a different sort of protection than you might expect," Prince Dynar explained. "Look closely." He took a few steps forward and gently gripped the flat of the blade, then turned it towards the light of the glowing white stones in the walls. As he did, Telepe noticed a faint red light shimmering along the length of the blade.
"You see, this blade is enchanted. When it draws blood, if whomever it strikes is weak-willed, they shall be seized with panic and flee from you as swiftly as possible." The prince smiled as he released the sword. "This is a blade that shall protect you by ensuring you do not need to fight."
Telepe slowly spun the sword in a circle, his eyes wide with amazement. "How did your mages learn to cast a spell like that?" he asked.
"Come, do you think you're the only one who can cast spells that influence emotions?" Prince Dynar chuckled. "The spell that blade is imbued with is a cousin of that charm spell you favor. Orriel is familiar with that family of spells, and he worked with our smiths to infuse it into your sword." The prince touched the Welkynd stone in the crossguard, adding, "The Welkynd stone here supplies the enchantment, while the Varla stone in the pommel provides the magickal energy. Though the blade does have limited uses before the spell falters, it will slowly recharge itself over time."
Telepe re-sheathed the sword and raised an eyebrow at the prince. "How long have you been planning this?" he asked drily.
"Since shortly after we defeated Morahame," Prince Dynar replied smugly. "You mentioned that you required a new blade, so I sent a message to our smiths. If you recall, I even considered that you might fare better with a longer blade."
Telepe flashed a reluctant smile. "I… Thank you, Your Highness."
"There's no need to thank me," the prince assured him with a chuckle. "You saved my life, so the least I can do is help protect yours."
"And as we said, the best way to repay us is to put those gifts to good use," King Dynar added. "Our lives are tied to yours now, so it behooves us to aid you however possible. If our gifts can help ensure your victory, then we are happy to provide them."
A warm silence fell over the room. Telepe took the opportunity to undo his belt and tie the scabbard to it while Tari watched him intently, almost seeming envious of his new weapon. After a few moments, King Dynar resumed his seat and held his hand up to his servants. "Well! For now, let's not focus on the war. Let's bring out the second course, shall we?" he added, addressing his staff. "I think you'll enjoy this. I asked the cooks to roast a wild boar we encountered in the jungle two days ago…."