Tyrion wandered through the vast city of tents, feeling very much a stranger. In some ways it reminded him of the jungles of Lustria. All around were trees, some of the gigantic ancient things thousands of years old.
It did not feel as close or threatening as the jungle had and there were no poisonous snakes or biting insects that he could detect. Instead there were lots of elves. They had come from every corner of Ulthuan to attend the court of the Everqueen.
He wondered how many of these people danced constant attendance on the Everqueen and how many of them were here for the tournament.
As always, people stared at him. He was used to that and he paid it no more mind than he would have in the streets of Lothern. He rather enjoyed it as a matter of fact, particularly when the onlookers were women. He smiled at anyone who caught his eye and did his best to look amiable.
Teclis would hate this place. His brother did not like being the centre of attention or being surrounded by crowds of people. He would doubtless have something sarcastic to say about all of these happy, thoughtless revellers. He wondered how much of what he was seeing was the product of magic. Teclis would’ve known, of course. He lacked his brother’s sensitivity to the flows of the winds of magic.
Even he suspected that some spell was at work here. The people look too happy, too energetic, too thrilled, even for elves in the mood for merrymaking. An atmosphere of almost complacent contentment hovered over this place. Every single person that he saw really wanted to be here and was really happy with the fact that they were. He could not think of any other place he had ever been in his life where that was true. Over the city of Lothern, for all its thrilling commercial energy, a certain melancholy brooded, shadowing even the happiest festival days.
This place reminded him, in an odd elliptic sort of way, of the atmosphere in the Shrine of Asuryan. There was the same sense of some ancient power touching the world. A girl danced by, flowers in her hair and a smile upon her lips. She blew him a kiss as she passed and, smiling, he answered in kind. She skipped back over to him and looked at him closely, examining him frankly and with considerable appreciation. He looked back at her in the same way, unembarrassed. He had heard tales of the way people behaved at the court of the Everqueen and he was determined to fit in as well here as he did everywhere else.
‘You’re here for the tournament?’ The girl asked.
‘I am indeed,’ Tyrion replied.
‘You hope to become her champion?’
‘I am unsure about that,’ he replied.
She laughed. The sound was like the tinkling of silver bells. ‘You’re unsure? How is that possible?’
‘It is a very long story,’ Tyrion said.
‘We are elves. If we do not have time for long stories, who does? My name is Lyla’
‘Mine is Tyrion.’
‘Like the hero of the Shrine of Asuryan?’
‘Exactly the same.’
‘I had heard he was as good looking as you.’
‘That is quite possible.’
‘You are he, are you not?’
‘I was at the Shrine when it was attacked. I do not think I was all that heroic. I was hiding in it at the time the daemon came.’
‘Do you have a twin brother who is a great sorcerer?’
‘I have a twin who is studying at Hoeth. Although I am not sure he is all that great a sorcerer. He would probably tell you he was.’
‘Let us drink wine. I am curious about you now.’
‘Lead on,’ said Tyrion. Ten minutes later they were naked in her tent. There was something to be said for the festival atmosphere of this place, he thought.
Tyrion took leave of Lyla and continued on his way.
As he walked through the cool shadows of Avelorn, Tyrion studied the people around him in a more leisurely fashion. This was a place utterly unlike Lothern. It moved to a different rhythm. Its people had a different attitude to time. They seemed more relaxed.
He watched a circle of elves gathered round a poet declaiming the ancient epic of Caledor the Conqueror. They knew the words, mouthing them silently as the poet spoke.
Tyrion watched them watching the poet. He knew the work and knew the reciter had been about his business for hours and most likely would still be speaking at sunset. These people had the