with some maps and intelligence reports for us to look over. We’re due for a meeting in less than an hour.” Edmund scribbled something on a paper after consulting a second paper, written in elvish. “Glad you woke up in time. We weren’t sure if we should wake you or let you sleep.”
“Wake me, if it comes up again.” Essie wasn’t sure what she would add to the discussions besides act as peacemaker, but she didn’t want to miss a single one. Not when Farrendel’s life depended on the outcome.
Julien glanced at his pocket watch. “How long do you think it will take us to reach the meeting room? King Weylind said it was somewhere below the library but above the grand hall. Do you know where that is, Essie?”
“I think so. I can at least get us to the general area.” Essie had never been called into the meeting room or study or whatever Weylind had to run Tarenhiel. Did elves accumulate the same amount of paperwork that human rulers had to tackle?
But she had passed the general area with its bustle of servants and flurry of courtiers and other activity.
After she helped her brothers pick up all their maps and notes and paperwork that they had already managed to produce in the few hours they had been there, she led the way from the treehouse toward the main part of the elven treetop palace.
Her brothers edged across the branch just as cautiously as before. She would have found it humorous, and she even turned to comment on it, her hand reaching to clasp Farrendel’s, before she felt the emptiness beside her.
Farrendel wasn’t there to laugh with her over her brothers’ hesitation. He wasn’t there to make a dry comment about the way she had clung to him on her first time across this branch.
She drew in a breath, willing the pain to stay deep inside her chest. Now was not the time to break. She had promised Farrendel that she would make sure her brothers and his brother worked together to rescue him. She would not let him down.
“This is a rather out of the way set of rooms, isn’t it?” Julien’s shoulders relaxed as he reached the wider branch.
“Farrendel likes his privacy.” Essie refused to feel the stab of pain inside her chest.
“I can see why he took to Buckmore Cottage.” Edmund’s eyes darted about as they walked deeper into the heart of Ellonahshinel. Before the day was out, Edmund would have a mental map of this palace.
When they reached the section of the tree King Weylind had indicated, it was an easy matter to follow the bustle to the room where the elven king ran Tarenhiel’s government.
The room was already filled with King Weylind and a few other elves Essie only vaguely recognized, guessing they were the elf equivalents of generals or military tacticians. More elves lurked by the wall. The scouts, perhaps? Maps were spread out over a long table in the center of the room while a desk with a chair had been grown into the wall. King Weylind’s desk, presumably.
“I see the meeting started without us.” Edmund grinned and sauntered inside. He set his bundle of papers on the end of the table.
King Weylind glanced up from his hushed consultation and gave both of her brothers one of his dark, disapproving eyebrow looks.
Her brothers were going to have far too much fun pushing King Weylind’s buttons. This was either going to be very entertaining or very frustrating.
Julien spread his own map on the table. “Let’s get to it, then. I’m Prince Julien, and this is my brother Prince Edmund. I’m going to be helping with the initial logistics of bringing the Escarlish army into Tarenhiel while Edmund will be joining your scouts.”
Two of the elves lurking in the shadows glanced at King Weylind while the last one stared at Edmund.
King Weylind heaved a large sigh, for an elf, and tipped his head in a nod. “That is correct.” He gestured toward the three elves in the shadows. “Prince Edmund, these are my top scouts. Your train north leaves tonight.”
Edmund nodded and sidled across the room toward the scouts. He was soon in conversation in elvish with them. Two of them seemed like they were fine scouting with a human in tow, but the third elf all but crossed his arms and glared daggers at Edmund.
Oh, well, Edmund could handle himself.
Essie found a seat next to the table as Julien, King Weylind, and his