Chapter 27

Gardais

"Are we certain that traveling to Ceya-Tar is wise?" Dynar asked, folding his arms as he paced back and forth across the floor of the narrow room that he and Telepe were standing in.

Telepe paused for a moment to take a long sip of his wine, regarding Dynar over the rim of the clay goblet. It was two days after they had returned from Ninendava, and the pair were standing across from each other on either side of a long wooden table in one of the back rooms of Sancre Tor's palace. When he finally lowered his cup, he tilted his head slightly asked simply, "Do you have a better suggestion?"

Dynar grimaced, glancing away. "Well… no," he admitted reluctantly. "However, Ceya-Tar is several days from here, so it'll be yet another long journey through dangerous territory. What's more, while I trust Tari, even if there is a magical repository there that rivals Ninendava, there is no guarantee that it holds the knowledge we seek."

"No, there isn't," Telepe agreed, setting his goblet on the table. "But as I said, no one else has put forth a more viable suggestion about how to discern what the veil around the White-Gold City is. Perhaps the Psijics of Artaeum might know, but they're months away, and I suspect they'd treat our question with indifference at best. Thus, Tari's suggestion is the only proposal that we might at least act upon."

Dynar sighed lightly, pausing in his pacing to stare down at him. "Very well," he said finally, lowering his arms. "However, if we are to carry out this plan, I must once again insist that we avoid taking the highway.

Telepe frowned faintly as Dynar walked over to a shelf, pulling a papyrus map of Cyrod from one of the shelves. "Remind me, for what reason?" he asked.

"For the same reason as when we were traveling to Sancre Tor," Dynar replied. Telepe leaned in, watching as Dynar traced his finger along the main road, which would take them south from Sancre Tor, and then southeast towards the heartland of Cyrod. "If we travel along the highway, we shall pass through territory that is controlled by the city of Lindai."

"Ah… yes. You've mentioned that city before. Lindai and Nenalata hate each other, yes?" Telepe asked, taking a slow sip of his wine. When Dynar nodded grimly, he asked, "What precisely is the nature of the feud between your kingdoms anyways? They're hundreds of miles apart from each other. It seems strange that there would be such enmity between you."

"There was an… incident between us some years ago. Have you ever heard of the Heretic of Lindai?" Dynar asked, absently adjusting his scarlet chiton. When Telepe shook his head, he explained, "During the Narfinsel Schism – which, if you'll recall, pitted Aedra-worshipping Ayleids against Daedraphiles – the Heretic wrote a parody of the Eleven Edicts of the Ten Ancestors." Telepe stared at Dynar blankly, uncomprehending, so Dynar explained, "The Eleven Edicts outlined methods of worship for the Daedraphiles, and were considered sacred by many Daedra-worshippers. In defiance and mockery of this, the Heretic wrote eleven other edicts, satiric verses which supposed that the Daedraphiles worshipped Auri-El instead. Needless to say, the Daedra-worshippers were not amused."

"I see. However, Nenalata worships Meridia, yes?" Telepe pointed out slowly. "Were you not furious with the Heretic as well?"

"While we do worship Meridia, we are also far more tolerant of our Aedra-worshipping kin than most Daedra-worshippers," Dynar explained. "When the Heretic fled, they came to Nenalata, seeking sanctuary, which my father granted. An emissary Lindai demanded that we surrender them to face judgement. My father refused, claiming that they were a refugee and under his protection. In response, Lindai swore eternal vengeance against Nenalata." The prince sighed and folded his arms over his chest. "Thus far, it's been an empty threat; as you said, our kingdoms are too distant to wage war with each other. Even so, I fear that traveling near their city shall be more than enough provocation for them to attack us."

"I see. Then why don't you simply remain behind on this journey?" Telepe suggested. "They have little reason to fight with us if you don't accompany us."

"Aside from the fact that they don't require any reason to attack a rebel caravan?" Dynar pointed out drily. "I have little doubt that word of Nenalata's alliance with the rebellion has already reached the ears of the King of Lindai. Merely associating with Nenalata has drawn the Paravant into the feud between our kingdoms. Thus, it is in your best interest to steer clear of them as well." He then smiled faintly and added, "Besides, I also wish to continue accompanying you, regardless of the danger. After all, you're the one who continues requesting my presence."

"That I do," Telepe admitted with a chuckle, setting down his goblet again. "Very well. If we avoid the highway, what are our other options?"

"My recommendation would be to instead travel due south along this path," Dynar explained, tracing a new path along the road. "This road shall take you through the lands of Hrotanda Vale, which is currently neutral, and is far less likely to attack you. From there, we can take this small road to just outside Narfinsel, and then perhaps we could skirt around the thickest parts of the jungle until we reach Ceya-Tar. If we do avoid the highway, we'll need to travel through the jungle anyway, but there's no reason to go deeper in than necessary."

"Hm. That seems like a sound enough plan. Even so, I think it would be wise to arrange a meeting with Hrotanda Vale before we depart," Telepe added. "Rather than simply marching our men through their lands, it would be better to first request their permission."

"And if they refuse?" Dynar asked.

Telepe smiled faintly. "Then we consider other options. However, this way we at least give them the courtesy of requesting their agreement, and assuring them that we don't intend to invade them. While they don't yet have any grievances with us, there's no point in creating one."

Dynar matched Telepe's smile with one of his own. "I concur," he said. "And while we're at it, we might consider meeting with the city of Lipsand Tarn as well. They're near enough that we should establish diplomatic relations with them, too."

"Good idea," Telepe nodded, pushing himself away from the table. "I should speak with Edanu about this proposal, then. Do you wish to join me?"

"Certainly. It's not as though I'm occupied with more pressing matters, after all," Dynar replied drily, chuckling as he rolled up the map. "Lead on."

Telepe strode out of the room with Dynar in tow, his hands folded behind his back. "So, what do you know of Lipsand Tarn and Hrotanda Vale?" Telepe asked.

"Very little," Dynar admitted apologetically. "Though I've heard that Lipsand Tarn mimicked Ninendava in the construction of its palace, building it partially into the face of a mountain-"

Telepe suddenly stopped short in front of one of the rooms, and the prince nearly barreled into him from behind. Dynar scowled, though the expression quickly faded as he followed Telepe's gaze and realized why he had paused.

Farilel was lying on the bed in the small room as Tari applied a poultice of herbs to the burn on her arm, while a small furry lump lay curled at the elf's feet. Telepe pointedly glanced over his shoulder at Dynar, then slipped into the room, knocking on the wall to alert Tari to their presence. Tari glanced up sharply, then relaxed when she saw the pair. Motioning with one hand, she beckoned them into the room.

"How is she?" Telepe asked, slipping onto one of the chairs near the fireplace.

"She's improving, but she's still far from fully recovering," Tari answered without looking at him, concentrating on rubbing the herbs into the wound. "Her wounds are healing, albeit slowly. However, she has a high fever, and she is slipping in and out of consciousness. I do not believe these wounds to be fatal, but she's not in any state to do any more than rest for now."

"Well… I'm pleased that she's improving, at least," Telepe said solemnly. He then glanced over as the furry mound at the foot of Farilel's bed lifted its head. Sancre Tor's mouser, Masser, let out a languid yawn, then padded over to the edge of the bed and unceremoniously leapt onto his lap. Telepe smiled faintly to himself and began scratching the calico's orange ears as she kneaded his thighs, purring softly with approval.

Tari briefly watched him stroke the cat's chin, then turned back to Farilel as she murmured, "Yes, well… while I'm glad that she'll likely recover, I do wish she could lend me her aid now."

Telepe frowned lightly tilting his head as he ran his fingers along Masser's cheek, brushing the soft fur. Something in Tari's tone piqued his curiosity. "It sounds as though you're concerned about more than just her well-being," he said slowly. "What's troubling you?"

Tari glanced up at him, then let out a soft sigh as she slowly rose to stand by the window, folding her arms over her chest. "I… was approached by one of the other Nedes earlier," she explained, glancing away from him uncomfortably. "Do you know Katu?"

"Burly young man? Dark skin and hair? Looks as though he comes from the great desert south of Malabal?" Dynar asked.

"Yes," Tari murmured. Then she looked up. "He asked me to teach him magic."

Telepe's eyebrows rose briefly, and a smile slowly spread across his face. "That's excellent!" he exclaimed. Though he spoke softly to avoid disturbing Farilel, his low tone was still enthusiastic.

"It's not," Tari replied quietly, her arms tightening over her chest. "I… do not feel as though I am a suitable teacher."

"…Is that so?" Dynar asked, leaning against one of the walls and hooking his thumbs into the sash of his chiton. "How do you figure?"

Tari looked up with a scowl. "Come now, do you truly believe I'm fit to teach anyone about magic? I can barely cast two spells!"

"That's two more spells than any other Nede here can cast," Telepe gently pointed out.

"And I've not yet mastered either of them!" Tari cried.

Telepe smiled faintly, his hand trailing down Masser's back as the cat arched into his fingers. "Neither had I when I first taught you how to cast 'Molag,'" he countered smoothly. Tari's mouth slowly closed as he added, "In fact, I still haven't. Your skill with fire already far outstrips my own. All I showed you was how to conjure the flame – you discovered how to project it, which is something I still have yet to learn. The same is true with that lightning spell of yours. Farilel did little more than teach you the incantation and observe your progress to ensure you didn't harm yourself, yes?"

"Well… yes, but there's no guarantee that Katu shall achieve the same level of proficiency under my tutelage," Tari murmured.

"No, there isn't," Dynar agreed. "However, it is no fault of your own if he does not possess the same aptitude for magic that you do. All you can do is guide him as best you can. You shall only be at fault if you neglect to teach him at all. Then blame can be cast at you for failing him."

"Even so, I still believe that a qualified master should teach him," Tari insisted. "Farilel's ability far outstrips my own."

Telepe shook his head, scratching Masser at the base of his tail as the cat arched into his fingertips. "Though I am loath to concur with him about anything, I must concede that King Gordhaur said something that I agree with: There are no true masters of magic, save perhaps Magnus himself. Every mage remains a student from the time they cast their first spell until their death. If you are waiting to achieve some nebulous concept of mastery before you take on an apprentice, I fear this rebellion shall be long over before another learns from you." He glanced over at the prince and added, "It's as Dynar said. All you can do is teach him what you already know. The rest falls upon him to expand upon the knowledge you've imparted. You're more than skilled enough to teach him the two spells you've already learned."

"The Paravant also claimed that she wishes to have a contingent of battlemages trained by your hand, yes?" Dynar added. "She would not have made that request of you if she did not trust in your ability. You already know spells that are quite useful upon the battlefield, and you now have a willing pupil. All the tools you require to fulfill her request have been set before you."

"And we believe you are more than capable of accomplishing this task," Telepe added, reaching forward to squeeze her bare thigh gently. Tari blinked down at his hand before looking up to see him smiling warmly at her. "If you truly believe yourself unworthy to teach another, then we shall not place more pressure upon you. However, I believe what you lack right now is confidence, not ability."

"I… suppose I can at least attempt to teach him to feel the flow of magicka, to begin with," Tari murmured, glancing away with a flush on her cheeks. Then she looked back at Telepe apprehensively. "However, there is still much I must learn. What if Farilel does not recover?"

"You already assured us that she likely will," Dynar said easily. "Thus, I would not fret about her."

"And while we fervently hope that she shall, if she doesn't, there are others who can teach you magic," Telepe added. "Many Ayleids have at least a cursory knowledge of spellcasting. Correct, Your Highness?" he added, glancing over his shoulder.

"A fair few nobles do, at any rate," Dynar nodded.

"So we might find you a new instructor, if Farilel is unable to continue teaching you," Telepe concluded. "What's more, though they are expensive, there are also scrolls and tablets that one can learn from, though they are a poor substitute for a proper master.

"Indeed?" Tari asked slowly, before frowning. "However, to use them, I would need to learn how to read." She peered pointedly up at Telepe, her frown deepening, as he let out a light chuckle and held his hands up.

"Very well," he agreed as Masser jumped off his lap and padded over to the fireplace to stretch out in front of it. "I did promise to teach you to read, and I shall carry out that promise as soon as possible. However, I must ask you to be patient for just a little longer."

"Until?" Tari pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Until we return from Ceya-Tar," Telepe replied, pushing himself up from his chair with a smile. "I swear. But first, we both have other duties we must attend to."

"As you say. Just please don't forget," Tari insisted. Telepe smiled at her and waved over his shoulder as he left the room with Dynar to resume his hunt for Edanu.

"Would any of you care for some more wine?" Telepe asked warmly, glancing up from the game board at the Ayleids seated before him. Across from him was Dynar, who was lounging lazily on his couch, shaking a six-sided die made of bone in his hand as he gazed down at the board. To his left was one of the guests of honor – Varyond, the brother of the King of Hrotanda Vale, a plump, stern-faced Ayleid of middle age. By contrast, the occupant of the chair to his left was a very pretty Ayleid princess by the name of Brelyesil, the second daughter of the King of Lipsand Tarn. The girl's pale blue eyes lifted from the game board to settle on Telepe, and she smiled prettily at him as she brushed her black, beaded braids away from her face.

"Thank you for the offer, but I had plenty during the feast," she replied in a soft, musical voice. "I fear that if I drink any more, I may have to retire early."

Telepe returned her smile, taking a slow sip of his own drink. Though the princess had charitably called the dinner a feast, the evening had been a rather small, almost intimate affair. He was unsurprised that the banquet he had thrown had been attended by only a dozen or so Ayleids from Hrotanda Vale and Lipsand Tarn. After securing Edanu's approval, he had penned letters to the two kingdoms, announcing that the gathering was to be held in three days' time. Naturally, given such short notice, the kings had insisted that they did not have time to travel to Sancre Tor directly, despite how close the three kingdoms were to each other. Frankly, Telepe was grateful that they had sent any representatives, considering how abruptly he had contacted them. He wished he'd been able to give the kings more advance notice, but time was short, and three days was all they could spare before they needed to depart for Ceya-Tar.

Fortunately, despite his rather sudden demands, the representatives that the two kingdoms had sent did hold very high rank. The parties were led by Varyond and Brelyesil, and consisted of about a half-dozen Ayleid nobles from each of their cities. Telepe could tell upon greeting them that the elves were wary and skeptical of his intentions. As they had been ushered in, he had overheard a pair of women whispering to each other fearfully, openly wondering if, by accepting the invitation, they would suffer a bloody execution like Haromir's. Upon hearing this, he had redoubled his resolve to assure their neighbors of Sancre Tor's good intentions.

Much to Telepe's relief, Sancre Tor's staff had taken his sudden request for a banquet in stride, and had more than risen to the occasion. As former slaves, they were used to absurd demands, and had quickly busied themselves preparing for the guests. Upon their arrival, the Ayleid entourage had been given a brief tour of the city, and then invited to retire to the palace to relax and enjoy themselves in the baths, or to lounge in the guest quarters and listen to music and poetry. When night fell, the cooks unveiled a magnificent dinner for the visiting Ayleids. The first course was served in the throne room, where the Ayleids milled about, chatting and enjoying appetizers such as stuffed olives, cheese, and sausages. The guests had then been ushered into the dining hall, where a light salad dressed with an herb and olive oil dressing waited for them. This had been followed by a warm soup made from roasted chicken and freshly harvested beans and vegetables. The main course was a magnificent wild boar cooked in rich red wine and flavored with aromatic spices, accompanied by carrots and peas glazed in honey and citron juice, as well as fresh white sesame seed bread, which could be dipped in herbed olive oil. Once the dishes had been cleared, the party had retired to one of the back rooms, where desserts were served – fresh fruits and nuts, as well as rich honey cakes layered with jam, all to be washed down with copious amounts of sweet red wine.

Despite their initial wariness, the Ayleids did seem to be enjoying Sacre Tor's hospitality, and most were sitting on couches with silver goblets in hand, chatting amicably with some of the elven citizens of Sancre Tor, playing games, or simply reclining peacefully and listening to the soft flute and lyre music filling the room. Telepe cast a furtive glance around the room to ensure that the easy atmosphere was not in danger of being broken, until the sound of someone clearing their throat returned his attention to the trio sitting before him.

"It's your turn," Varyond announced, handing Telepe the white, six-sided die.

"My apologies," Telepe smiled sheepishly as he rolled the dice in the palm of his hand and gazed down at the board. They were playing an Ayleid game called "gardais," or "gifts." Each player controlled a single piece on a board lined with black, white, and grey tiles, forming a path which they traveled along according to the number rolled on the die. They began the game with ten tokens each – tiny copper coins of little value outside of the game. If a player landed on a grey tile, nothing happened, and their turn ended without incident. Meanwhile, the white and black tiles were numbered. Landing on a white tile allowed one to take tokens from the other players equal to the number on the tile, though the player could choose how many tokens to take from each of their opponents. For instance, landing on a three meant they could either take three tokens from one player, two from one player and one from another, or one token from each player. A black tile, in turn, meant a player had to give tokens to the other players, though in the variant they were playing, a player always had at least one token, and could not be eliminated by running out.

Telepe let the die fall from his hand and scowled as he rolled a three, which put his piece on a black tile. However, as both Varyond and Brelyesil had been focusing on him throughout the game, he was down to his last token anyways, so he didn't have to surrender anything. Even so, Dynar let out a soft chuckle from across the table.

"Fortune is not with you tonight, it seems," he remarked with an easywink.

"Aside from rolling high and being ahead of you all on the board, no," Telepe agreed with a light grimace as he handed the die to Brelyesil. "I'm glad we're not playing for actual stakes."

"Well, one cannot enjoy favorable luck all the time," Brelyesil remarked as she rolled a five, landing on a white tile with a two. She eyed Dynar's tokens, then elected to take one from both him and Varyond, before glancing at Telepe and adding, "And from my understanding, your army has had quite the run of good fortune lately."

Telepe had just bitten into a pear, and he took the opportunity to chew slowly while considering his response. While her sweet tone suggested that she was praising the rebellion, there was an undertone of suspicion that warned him to tread carefully. As he swallowed, he smiled and inclined his head before replying modestly, "While we've enjoyed success on the battlefield, I hardly consider the tragic loss of life on both sides to be good fortune. In truth, I'd prefer it if we could resolve this conflict peacefully."

"Yet your supposedly peaceful intentions have resulted in the deaths of two kings in less than a month," Varyond replied coolly, watching as Dynar took three tokens from his large pile. "Though I suppose that since they were your enemies, you haven't exactly mourned them."

Telepe winced inwardly, though he was careful not to let it show on his face. "Any death is a tragedy, and we do not relish their passing," he replied diplomatically as Varyond took the die and began rolling it around on his palm. "However, given the circumstances, it is fortunate that only two lives were lost."

"Especially since you attained sweeping victories without needing to expend your army, mm? Fortunate indeed," Varyond replied, scowling as he landed on a black tile labeled with the number one. He handed Brelyesil a token with a slight smirk as Telepe picked up the die.

"Of course we seek to achieve our own objectives," Telepe conceded as he rolled the die around in his palm, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "As do you. But there's no reason to believe that our goals cannot align."

"How do you mean?" Brelyesil asked cautiously as Telepe let the die fall and bounce across the board.

A slight smile crossed Telepe's face as he landed on a white three, taking one token from each of the other three players before handing the die to the Ayleid princess. "While we have our differences, I believe that we all desire peace, security, and prosperity for our people, man and mer alike. Furthermore, since our kingdoms are now neighbors, it is in our best interests to maintain cordial, if not friendly, relations with each other, yes?"

"From our understanding, your definition of 'friendly relations' entails forcing your laws upon others, regardless of whether they wish to adhere to them or not," Varyond retorted coldly, watching as Brelyesil landed on a grey tile before passing the die over to Dynar and taking a slow sip of her wine.

"To a certain degree," Dynar replied, gazing down at the board as he answered Varyond's question. "While the rebellion does request that their allies renounce slavery, they otherwise do not interfere in the autonomy of the other kingdoms, and they have always held true to their obligations. If one signs a treaty with them, they do not renege on their oaths. Which is more than I can say for many Ayleid kingdoms," the prince added bitterly as he let the die fall from his hand. He grimaced as he landed on a black two, whereupon he surrendered two tokens to Telepe.

Varyond and Brelyesil traded looks as the older elven male hesitantly picked up the die again and rolled it between his fingers. "Nevertheless, though you claim to respect our autonomy, you have a history of attacking those that refuse," Brelyesil claimed.

Telepe glanced over at the princess, settling back onto the couch with his hands laced together on his lap. Lipsand Tarn in particular had reason to be very wary of Sancre Tor's intentions. Located on the fringes of Cyrod, the kingdom was remote and quite small. Worse, since the rebellion seized control of Sancre Tor, Lipsand Tarn was now in danger of being cut off from the other kingdoms, as their geographic position meant Sancre Tor could greatly stifle their ability to trade, if they wished.

"The rebellion strives to avoid conflict whenever possible," Telepe insisted firmly. "The war that the rebels wage is one of liberation, not conquest, and once the slaves in Cyrod have been granted the same freedoms as their Ayleid counterparts, they must consider what comes afterwards. To that end, it is in the rebellion's best interests to establish favorable relationships, which includes pursuing peace and sharing their prosperity with their allies."

"And why should we believe that the rebels will not simply use their ill-gotten gains to better themselves at the expense of the Ayleids?" Varyond asked curtly, scowling as he landed on a grey tile and handed the die over to Telepe.

Telepe was about to answer, but momentarily paused as he took stock of the game board. Presently, he was in last place with a mere six tokens – the most he'd had since the start of the game, thanks to this recent streak of good luck – while Varyond held twelve tokens and Dynar and Brelyesil both had eleven. Despite his low token count, however, he was well ahead of the others on the board, and his pawn was a mere five spaces away from the final tile. If he landed on the last tile, he could take five tokens from the other players as a reward for clearing the board first. However, he had to roll the exact number, and the other players were obviously aware of how close he was to the end of the board. Given the chance, on their turns they would no doubt strip him of his tokens to prevent him from winning the game. He had one chance to end the game in his favor.

As he rolled the die around in his hand, Telepe returned his gaze to Varyond, giving the older Ayleid a mischievous smile. "There is much more to be gained by cooperating with one's allies than by simply focusing upon one's own interests," he replied smoothly as he let the die fall from his hand. "For instance, it helps ensure that one's neighbors do not take revenge when the scales are tilted in their favor."

The four watched as the die bounced across the board. When it came to a stop, the number five was facing up. Varyond and Brelyesil let out simultaneous groans of disbelief as Telepe moved his pawn the remaining spaces and landed on the white exit tile. As he did, he eyed the tokens of the two Ayleids that had been tormenting him throughout the game. He could easily take from their piles alone and end the game in a tie with Dynar. However, as they watched, he instead simply took two tokens from Varyond, and one from both Dynar and Brelyesil, leaving all players with ten tokens and ending the game in a four-way draw.

"You… were permitted to take one more token, you know," Varyond commented, frowning in confusion at the final tally.

"I was permitted to, but the rules do not explicitly state that one must take five tokens. Simply that it is their prerogative," Telepe replied with a cunning smile as he took a slow sip of the wine. "After all, even if one is in a position where they might gain an advantage, if they restrain themselves, everyone benefits. Wouldn't you agree?" he added, his smile broadening behind the rim of his goblet.

Varyond stared at Telepe in confusion, then let out a soft chuckle and settled back against the couch, swirling his own wine in his goblet with a shake of his head. "Intriguing," he commented, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. "Very well, emissary. Let us hear your offer."

"As I've stated, Sancre Tor seeks to establish good relations with its neighbors," Telepe explained, setting down his goblet and lacing his fingers in front of him as he leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "While it is true that the rebellion does request that other kingdoms abolish slavery to secure an alliance, the benefits of the alliance far outweigh the loss of a cheap source of labor. Through cooperation and trade, this region as a whole shall be enriched far beyond what a single kingdom could accomplish, even considering the impact of the abolition of slavery. Furthermore, beyond ensuring that the human citizens of your kingdoms enjoy the same legal protections and rights as their Ayleid counterparts, the rebellion does seek to maintain as much stability as possible, so you needn't fear a societal reversal."

"You mentioned benefits. What form would these benefits take?" Varyond asked, while Brelyesil sipped her wine quietly, her blue eyes flickering back and forth between the two men.

"Aside from aid with famines and material shortages due to an interconnected system of resource distribution, your kingdom would be enriched with goods from distant lands, such as Valenwood, Alinor, and Malabal," Telepe replied. When Varyond frowned at him skeptically, he added, "The rebellion currently controls trade along the southern Niben River. One of the first things I discussed with King Haromir was establishing trade routes that would allow exotic goods such as spices, textiles, and precious stones and metals to reach distant kingdoms that otherwise would not have access to them. The rebellion would be more than happy to include your kingdoms as benefactors of this new trade cycle. To say nothing of the local wealth in the gold mines of Sancre Tor," he pointed out.

"Hm. You seek to dazzle us with riches, but how do you intend to ensure that you are not simply robbed?" Varyond asked simply.

"Sancre Tor is one of the most secure cities in Cyrod. You must be aware of that," Telepe pointed out.

"Which is fine for Sancre Tor, but what of your allies?" Varyond retorted.

Telepe resisted the urge to smile as the Ayleid took the bait. "The rebellion would of course be more than happy to come to the aid of our allies as well," he answered smoothly. "I'm certain you're well aware of their military prowess, of how they have yet to lose an open battle?"

Dynar tilted his head slightly. "Your Highness… you're asking about this because you're currently suffering due to raids from Lindai, no?"

Telepe blinked in surprise at the prince's interjection, and Varyond seemed equally surprised. "How did you-?" he asked slowly.

"Nenalata has long been an enemy of Lindai. As such, we keep a close eye on their activities… and who is affected by them," Dynar explained as he settled back on his seat, resting on one of his elbows while he idly swirled the wine in his goblet. "From what I understand, Hrotanda Vale is home to vast fields and rich orchards, yes? Such plentiful bounty is a ripe target for raiders, is it not?"

Varyond gazed at Dynar silently for a long moment, then let out a soft chuckle. "You are well apprised of our relations with our neighbor," he remarked.

"In truth, I'm hardly surprised your kingdom has been a target," Dynar admitted as he plucked a date from the silver plate of fruit sitting beside the game board. "Lindai is large, powerful, and one of the most aggressive kingdoms outside of central Cyrod, and their people tend towards the worship of the more vicious Daedric Lords. It's little wonder they feel as though they can take what they please from their neighbors." A slight smile turned the corner of the prince's mouth as he added, "And that is precisely why it is in your kingdom's best interests to ally with us."

Varyond glanced away, lacing his fingers together and resting them against his lips. He was silent in thought for several long moments, until Telepe asked gently, "Do you have any misgivings that we might address now?"

"I have many," Varyond replied slowly, glancing at Telepe out of the corner of his eye. "Not the least of which is the stipulation that we must abandon slavery."

"Understandably," Telepe nodded sympathetically, privately grateful that there were no humans within earshot to hear him commiserating with the Ayleid. When Varyond gave him a sidelong look, clearly expecting him to say more, he added, "We cannot make this decision for you or your king, Your Highness. The rebellion shall not coerce you into an agreement. As an emissary speaking on behalf of the Paravant, I can only present the benefits and drawbacks of an alliance, and I shall not attempt to withhold the fact that the abolition of slavery is a stipulation the Paravant shall not compromise on. What I can assure you of is that the benefits of allying with the rebellion far outweigh this concession."

"I can attest to that," Dynar confirmed firmly, shooting Telepe a sidelong wink. "Nenalata was once in a similar situation to Hrotanda Vale, where we were suffering from endless conflict with other nearby kingdoms. Yet, Nenalata has flourished since we aligned ourselves with the rebellion. Certainly, the loss of slavery may prove difficult to adapt to in the future, but I would rather surrender my right to keep slaves than to continue to stand alone, weathering constant raids and skirmishes with our neighbors. Furthermore, despite the fact that it is a largely human coalition, the rebellion has proven a far more steadfast and trustworthy ally than any Ayleid kingdom we have ever allied ourselves with."

"For now," Varyond added pointedly, raising an eyebrow.

"The rebels have no reason to betray you. There would be no benefit, as they gain more by avoiding conflict and forging friendly relations with the existing kingdoms," Telepe repeated.

Varyond exhaled slowly, then softly smiled. "I see. In truth… my brother sent me here with an eye towards allying with you in the first place," he admitted. Telepe's mouth opened slightly, stunned, and across the table, Dynar seemed equally surprised. "We're well aware of the rebellion's recent actions in this region. While the murder of King Haromir was… shocking and brutal, to say the least, once you gained control of the city, you did not slaughter the Ayleid inhabitants, as we expected. Your farmers near our border also begrudgingly attested to the fact that your judgements seem to strive for parity, regardless of race. And then there was your raid on Ninendava, where you not only slew a mad, dangerous king, you also showed mercy to the inhabitants of the city and absorbed them into your existing population, rather than dispersing or slaughtering them, as some of the other kingdoms might have chosen to do." As Telepe's ears began turning red, Varyond's smile broadened, adding, "You've established quite a positive reputation."

"It's… good to hear that you approve," Telepe stammered, momentarily at a loss for words at the effusive praise, though he quickly recovered. "Therefore, if I might ask… have you made a decision about whether to ally with the rebellion?"

"I shall have to finalize the details with our king, but he sent me here with an implicit suggestion that we should seek an alliance, yes," Varyond replied. "And you have provided even more reason to agree. Therefore, I would tentatively say that he accedes to your proposal."

Telepe grinned broadly, inclining his head warmly, before turning to Brelyesil. "And… if I might ask the same of you, Your Highness?"

The Ayleid girl was silent for several long moments, and then she let out a slow sigh. "I'm afraid that we must decline," she replied slowly. "I cannot see us ever agreeing to abolish slavery, as it's the lifeblood of our small kingdom. There are few enough of us as it is, and without the labor of our slaves, our kingdom would collapse, as it would be unable to sustain itself – even with these supposed benefits you mentioned. Furthermore, while the rebellion has recently behaved surprisingly magnanimously, you are nevertheless an unknown quantity. You remain hostile to most Ayleids, despite your assurances to the contrary, and while many of your actions have been noble, just as many have shown you to be no less savage than the most vicious of the other kingdoms – most notably, as Varyond said, the murder of two kings in less than a month."

Telepe's smile faded slightly, and he settled back against the couch, regarding the princess quietly. While her points were valid, he was still a touch surprised by her response. He wondered if she was ignoring the pragmatism of aligning with the rebellion. If Hrotanda Vale were indeed to ally with Sancre Tor, Lipsand Tarn would be completely isolated from the rest of Cyrod. Its trade with every other kingdom ran through territory that both Sancre Tor and Hrotanda Vale controlled, and the only alternatives were to attempt to run caravans through Skyrim – which was arguably even more hostile to Ayleids than the rebellion – or through the barren and treacherous desert to the northwest. In truth, refusing to ally with Sancre Tor was akin to a death sentence for the city, especially if their relationship soured. In that case, they were essentially resigning themselves to a siege.

However, Telepe kept his thoughts to himself, as he had no desire to antagonize the princess. Instead, he smiled sadly and inclined his head. "Of course, you're free to refuse if you wish. Unfortunately, we cannot compromise on the abolition of slavery, and I do understand your wariness towards the rebellion's intentions. Nevertheless, there is no need for hostilities, either. Would you instead consider a non-aggression pact?"

Brelyesil looked up, her eyes widening with surprise, while Varyond's narrowed slightly. "What would be the nature of said pact?" she asked slowly.

"While the rebellion would not engage in trade with Lipsand Tarn, neither would it harass your caravans, nor your soldiers," Telepe explained. "In return, Lipsand Tarn would likewise agree not to interfere with the rebels' activities, nor to attempt to subvert them in any way. In essence, it would be a declaration of mutual neutrality, and an assurance that neither would attempt to harm the other."

Brelyesil gazed at him quietly for several long moments, then looked down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. "I see. I… do believe that my father would be amenable to that proposition, yes. In truth, what we fear most is further incursion by the rebellion, so an assurance that you would not encroach upon us would be welcome." She looked up again with a nod and a slight smile. "If you were to draft the agreement, I would be happy to present it to him."

Telepe smiled warmly and inclined his head to her, bringing his goblet to his lips. "In that case, it would be my privilege to write a proposal for you to bring back to the king. I shall have outlines for you both in the morning, and we can negotiate the details then."

"Excellent!" Brelyesil smiled.

"I… also feel that we should inform you both of one other thing," Telepe added, glancing between the two elves. "We intend to depart shortly with part of our army and travel south. We would like to request permission to travel through your lands," he said, giving Varyond a pointed look.

"For what purpose?" Varyond asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

"While we travel, we wish to avoid conflict with Lindai," Dynar explained. "We are concerned that they may attack us on sight, and we do not wish to expend our forces in an unnecessary battle."

"I see," Varyond said slowly, looking down. "What business do you have beyond our borders, if I might ask?"

Telepe hesitated and traded glances with Dynar, who frowned faintly and shook his head slightly. Taking that as a cue, Telepe answered reluctantly, "I'm afraid that we cannot divulge more information than that, as we are uncertain if our concerns even merit our caution. Nevertheless, we did wish to inform you of our intentions, so that we could acquire your consent. We did not wish to move our army through your territory without notice."

"Then thank you for that courtesy," Varyond replied drily, unable to resist smirking at Telepe's sheepish look. "I shall have to discuss it with my king. In truth, even with this warning, he may not take kindly to your men traveling through our lands."

"Of course," Telepe agreed with a nod. "You also have our assurances that the men would not touch a single grain of wheat or lay a hand on any of your citizens while within your borders."

"In fact, I believe our centurion would even consent to permitting your scouts to shadow the army, to verify that our men are keeping to their word," Dynar added.

"Well… that shall do much to alleviate my king's concerns," Varyond admitted slowly. "Still, while I am willing to reluctantly acquiesce to your request, I must confirm it with my brother first. Would you consent to waiting for three days for our reply?"

Telepe and Dynar traded cautious looks. Time was important, but if this was for the sake of ensuring safe passage through Hrotanda Vale, they had little choice. "If three days are all that you require, then yes," Telepe agreed.

"How many men do you intend to take with you?" Brelyesil chimed in.

"In truth, we have not decided yet, Your Highness," Dynar stated, favoring her with a warm smile. "Some, perhaps?"

"You're being coy," Brelyesil remarked, a slow smile spreading across her lips.

"Such is the privilege of royalty," Dynar countered, his own grin broadening. "Though, naturally, you're well aware of this yourself."

"Naturally," Brelyesil chuckled. It seemed she was about to say more, but then her smile faltered slightly, and she turned her head towards the nearby window as something outside seemed to draw her attention.

Telepe quieted down and strained his ears to figure out why she had paused. Through the nearest window, he could hear the faint sound of roaring voices bellowing a hauntingly familiar tune. Though they were faint and distant, the voices were still audible over the flutes and lyres trilling off the wood-paneled walls.

With a frown, Dynar pushed himself up and strode over to the window. He pushed it open so that the four could hear more clearly, though as he did, some of the other guests immediately protested the rush of cold air billowing into the hall. Ignoring them, the prince leaned out the window, and Telepe, Brelyesil, and Varyond gathered around him to listen.

It soon became apparent that the gruff, gravelly voices belonged to the Nordic mercenaries, who were carousing merrily outside of the barracks, a short distance from the palace. They were clearly drunk, as even from this distance, Telepe could see that many were holding clay bowls filled with frothing beer. There was no harmony to their song, but they all clearly knew the words, as their voices rose and lowered at roughly the same time as they bellowed into the frigid night air.

"Truly? Tonight of all nights?" Dynar asked, an irritated look on his face. "Our apologies," he added, casting a sidelong glance at their royal guests. "We shall have our guards see to them immediately."

"Think nothing of it," Varyond replied easily, leaning on the windowsill, taking a slow sip of his wine. "What are they singing, anyways?"

"It's an ancient song from the earliest days of Skyrim," Telepe replied, pausing to hum a few notes of the tune under his breath to confirm it to himself. "It's an ode to a figure who was said to have the soul of both a dragon and a man, and who possessed incredible power. It also foretells of a prophecy found in the Elder Scrolls, when the Nordic dragon of destruction, Alduin, shall return to Nirn, and another hero with the soul of a dragon shall rise to meet him." When the elves stared at him blankly, he added, "Of course, there's no indication that the person in question ever truly existed. It may well simply be a myth. But it nevertheless remains a popular song in Skyrim."

"You can understand what they're saying?" Brelyesil asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Well… no," Telepe admitted. "While I am fluent in Nordic, that is not the language they're speaking – the song is in the ancient language of the dragons, which I am unfamiliar with. However, I once wished to be a bard, and as that song is a favorite of the Nords, I was required to learn it as part of my training."

"I see," Brelyesil said slowly, returning her gaze to the distant mercenaries. Her mouth momentarily curled with disgust, and then she shook her head and pulled herself away from the windowsill. "Forgive me," she added with a shiver. "I wish to spend some time by the fire, if you'd please excuse me."

"Of course. I'd be glad to join you," Dynar offered with a warm smile.

"That… would be greatly appreciated, Highness. Thank you," Brelyesil replied, answering his grin with one of her own. The beads in her hair clicked gently against each other as she offered her hand, which Dynar took, and the two elves gracefully swept their way towards the roaring fire in the great hearth.

Varyond and Telepe watched the pair depart, with Telepe chuckling into his goblet as he watched the pair wander across the room. "If we're not careful, the rebellion may well wind up in an alliance with Lipsand Tarn after all," he remarked, amused.

"Or at least Nenalata will," Varyond agreed, swirling his wine lightly in his glass. He gazed quietly at Telepe for a long moment, then added, "Might I offer an observation, and a word of advice, emissary?"

Telepe blinked in surprise at the Ayleid's abrupt question, but he managed to smile and incline his head. "Please," he said graciously.

"You seem to conduct diplomacy with a soft touch, relying upon goodwill and charm, rather than force and intimidation," Varyond stated, lowering his glass. "It is rare to see in Cyrod, and in truth, rather refreshing. Our people are unused to pursuing mutual benefit and compromise, rather than the self-serving imposition of one's will. And it clearly serves you well. My comment about the positive reputation you have cultivated was not simple flattery."

"Thank you. Yet…?" Telepe prompted, sensing that there was more Varyond wished to say.

Varyond smiled faintly at Telepe's prompting, though the expression quickly vanished. "Do not forget that Cyrod is a savage land," he warned. "While your kindness may indeed win you allies, too gentle a touch without a proper backing of force may be interpreted as weakness, naivete, and gullibility. You may yet find that other kingdoms shall be eager to take advantage of your good nature."

"Does… something in particular worry you?" Telepe asked hesitantly, his smile fading.

"Lipsand Tarn refused your offer of friendship," Varyond said. "Yet, though placed themselves in a weakened position, isolated from the rest of Cyrod, you allowed them to continue trading through your lands, without requiring anything from them in return. You could have interpreted their decision as a declaration of war and imposed a virtual siege until they capitulated, yet you instead provided them with a means to ensure their survival, despite the fact that they have not declared themselves your ally."

"Nor as our enemy," Telepe countered, though he kept his tone light to indicate that he was not offended by Varyond's frank commentary. "I also worried that if I had fully isolated them, they might have reacted like a cornered beast and fought all the harder against us. An enemy with no options shall fight to the death, as they have nothing else to lose. So long as they do not feel as though they are cornered, we have far less to fear from them."

"Perhaps," Varyond conceded. "Or, perhaps, by showing lenience, you've allowed a potential threat to fester, when you should have curtailed them while you had the opportunity."

Telepe took a slow sip of his wine as he pondered Varyond's words, his gaze drifting back out the window. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a pair of figures huddled together in the center of courtyard. Though it was initially too dark to discern their features, one held out their hand, and a flame ignited in their palm. Their faces illuminated, Telepe realized that one of the figures was Tari, who was speaking quietly to a tall, brawny young man with deeply tanned skin – Katu, he presumed. Tari finished speaking, and Katu slowly held out his hand. His face screwed up with concentration as he stared intently at his palm, though after a few moments, he lowered his hand in defeat. Despite that, Tari smiled and put her hand on his shoulder, saying something indistinct in reply.

Telepe smiled faintly as he turned back to the Ayleid prince, lowering his glass. "Perhaps you're correct. Perhaps I should have been more adamant about Lipsand Tarn joining our alliance or facing repercussions," he agreed. "However, I cannot control every action that those around me take. All I can do is suggest a path that I feel shall benefit them, and pray that they heed my advice. Certainly, that may prove naïve, but others tend to respond more positively to kindness than cruelty, wouldn't you say?"

"Typically. Though not always. You would be wise to remain on guard for others looking to take advantage of your kindness," Varyond warned him.

"Ah. Then I shall remain on guard for you to take advantage of us," Telepe retorted, though he softened his words with a slight smile.

"Then you are learning," Varyond replied easily. He drained the last of his goblet, then glanced at one of the tables. "If you'll excuse me, I've still yet to sample those honey cakes."

"Of course. I find they're quite good when paired with raspberries," Telepe advised.

Varyond inclined his head and wandered away as Telepe turned back around, folding his arms on the windowsill. The cool wind continued to blow around him, but he was almost unaware of it as he watched Tari once again demonstrate how to conjure a flame to her young student. As he watched, the notes of the Nordic song continued to echo from the barracks, and presently he found himself humming along to the tune as the words to a new song set to the music began drifting through his mind.

A/N: To better clarify the route Dynar is proposing, using the modern Oblivion map: The rebels would take the west exit out of Sancre Tor and follow the narrow path south from Lipsand Tarn, down through what in the modern age would be Chorrol – which doesn't exist yet – and then further south to a tiny path leading to a Wayshrine of Dibella. From there, they intend to head east and then south along the edges of the modern Great Forest. While in this era, most of Cyrod is jungle, as Dynar said, that would be the boundary of the thickest parts of the jungle, which they're trying to avoid. Eventually, that will lead them back onto the highway, which they'll take the rest of the way to Ceya-Tar.

Also, for anyone wondering, the song the Nords were singing was the Skyrim theme. I see some of the lyrics about an ancient Dragonborn as referring to Miraak, who predates the First Era. While it's difficult to justify glorifying a traitorous, power-hungry tyrant, I could see the Nords at least respecting his strength. As for the prophecy, the Elder Scrolls have always been used to foretell future events, and the Nords would obviously want to know when Alduin's returning. Thus, the song serves as an ode to Miraak's raw power, and a warning to future generations.