air, the sort of powerful conspicuous magic his brother could work. Beneath it he sensed the presence of another type of magic. The air was thick with it, a constant stream of something living, beneficial, potent. He remembered again the atmosphere of the Shrine of Asuryan, and the feeling here was of the same kind, although not produced by the same being.
In Asuryan’s Shrine the being had been of fire, powerful, destructive, mercurial, somewhat akin to Chaos. Here, whatever was present was slower, more placid, enduring, fertile. It was a spirit of earth and forest, and its locus of power was in this place. Or perhaps in the person of the Everqueen.
A thought struck him. Perhaps Lothern was a place of water. If the old magical schemata of the elemental universe was to be believed, then there must be a place of air as well. He wondered where that could be, and it struck him that perhaps the place was in the north, a place of cold and storm winds, perhaps where Malekith was.
He amused himself with such idle fantasies as he passed through the shadow of pavilions and onto the grounds where scores of elven artisans were at work creating the tournament fields.
A pulse of excitement started to beat in him. There was going to be a great contest here and he was going to take part in it. It was a ritual that had been enacted only a dozen times during the course of history, and it was one that had a significance that was embedded deeply in the nature of his people.
He understood that perhaps he was seeing things at an unusual time, during a change in reigns. The old queen was dead. The new queen was just that – new. The tone of her reign had yet to be set. Her likes and dislikes were as yet unknown. There were those who had known her as a child, and who thought they knew her as a woman, but they could not know what she was going to be like as the Everqueen. She was a butterfly newly emerged from that particular chrysalis and she might be changed as utterly as her relationships with those around her were going to be.
If he won the tournament he really would have a chance to influence the tone of this new age. He would have his chance to be part of her court, to sway her choices. It was not the sort of power he wanted, or the sort of role he craved. He was a warrior, not a courtier.
And yet, he had to admit to himself, despite his reluctance to do so, there was something here that appealed to him. This felt like the setting of one of those tales of heroism and chivalry he had so loved as a child. It was glamorous and full of intrigue. It was beautiful. There was pageantry and magic. He could picture himself as a knight at the court of the fairest of elf queens. It was the sort of role he had delighted in imagining as a boy. It still had its appeal even now, although he could see the folly of it.
In spite of all his reservations, like all those others, he was happy to be here.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
In the morning sunlight, Tyrion watched the gathering of heroes. More and more warriors arrived on the tournament grounds, great champions shorn of their retinues, single fighters who had come alone, perhaps following a dream, perhaps merely to test themselves against the best the island-continent could provide.
He stood on the field itself, where today only contestants and representatives of the Everqueen were allowed. Atharis and his retainers watched from the surrounding hillocks along with the followers of all the other champions present. He saw Arhalien of Yvresse turn and bow to his followers before he passed through the arch and onto the tournament field. His retainers cheered him but could go no further.
Tyrion saw proud armoured riders from Ellyrion mounted on their matchless, prancing steeds. He saw a lovely woman warrior from Tiranoc, staring around with fierce wary eyes. There were grim-faced soldiers from Yvresse, and tall, hard-faced elves from the Shadowlands, as harsh and craggy as the land that bore them.
They looked at him as much as he looked at them, and there was a challenge in their stare. They knew instinctively that he too was here to compete and that he would be a rival, and they could tell just from