this world and yet I am firmly rooted within it,” the halfbreed said, his voice lowered now that he had their attention. “The King of Annwn may not be attacking you now but that is the least of your worries. The fight Philip brought to you will be an ant attack compared to what will happen if the men of that other world discover this one. The men in that world are greedy and corrupt. They possess power and machines you cannot fathom. When they come here—and they will come here, whether it be Philip or another—nothing you do will be able to stop your extermination.”
“And they will discover you if Philip goes through that portal,” Richard added.
The lords looked back and forth between one another.
“Now we listen to a halfbreed?” Lord Finnbhennach snorted. “As if he knows something of our ways?”
“Considering one of your own begot me, I say I have a say.”
Lord Finnbhennach grunted but said nothing.
“War is not an easy thing to entreat,” the Morrigan said, her presence commanding the others into silence. “If what you say is true about the Graal and the Usurper harnessing its power, what will that do for our odds in this?”
Richard shrugged. “I do not know. It could make each of his demon wolves and Templar Knights as if they were five? Ten? Not sure exactly.”
“That means if their army is fifty thousand strong…” Lord Eigion thought out loud.
“It is actually many times larger than that,” Richard said. “And growing daily.”
“What say you, Govannon? Lugh? Aife?” the Morrigan asked.
“The halfbreed speaks true,” the Mastersmith said. “All we have fought to maintain, the peace we have wished for so many millennia, will be for naught. No matter the dice odds, we must do what is right, not what is popular. Better now than even more outnumbered later.”
“The Rhedewyr are ready,” Aife agreed.
“Lord Faric?” the Queen asked.
The coblynau leader nodded, if barely agreeing.
“We are united,” the Queen said simply. “The future will be our own by our design.”
“If Philip is as arrogant as I think he is, it may be his undoing,” Richard said. “But first I must speak with the other knights.” Richard paused. “And get some clothes. Then we plan.”
“One moment, Knight McAllister,” Govannon said.
Richard, Bran, and the rest of the Seelie Court watched Govannon move to the side of the tent where his massive sledgehammer lay against a large pack. He opened the latter and, after rummaging within it, pulled a simple wooden box from its depths.
“If we fight,” he said, “Then young Ardall will need this.”
Richard watched as the Mastersmith opened the box before Bran. Inside, lying on soft crimson velvet, rested a gauntlet. The steel glove was short at the wrist, with metal fingers and a thumb. A menagerie of runes etched into its surface swirled.
Govannon had crafted a beautiful piece of artistry.
“Give me your left arm, Ardall,” the Mastersmith said. “Let me place it on.”
Bran did so. Govannon attached the gauntlet where the boy’s hand had once been. When the glove touched the stump, the runes came alive, azure fire like that of Arondight racing over its steel. The fingers twitched and then moved as wonder filled Bran’s face.
“But how…?” the boy began.
“The weapon you needed back in my Arendig Fawr armory had no reason to exist yet,” Govannon answered. “The reason being, of course, you still possessed your left hand. Is the gauntlet to your liking? Is it comfortable?”
“How does it stay on?” Bran asked, mesmerized.
“Magic, of course. Partly mine, partly your own. It is linked to Arondight, although the sword does not need to be called for the gauntlet to stay on. If you hold the sword in your new left hand, the blade can never be struck from your possession. The two magics work as one.”
Bran flexed his new steel fingers, grinning.
“A wonderful gift, Mastersmith,” the Morrigan said. “May it bode well on the morrow.”
The lords of the Seelie Court nodded and turned back to their own thoughts, contemplating the choice of the Queen to go to war and their role in it. Some nodded to Richard, others turned away. It was not difficult for him to understand how hard it had been for these leaders to subject their people to war. The lords were given the chance to face the cause of their centuries of hiding and fear. Philip had to pay for what he had done—for what he was planning on doing.
Richard flexed his arm, feeling it restored. Battle was coming and