bemused by his loveliness and the narcotic cloud surrounding him.
‘Quickly, follow me,’ said N’Kari in a voice at once seductive and commanding. ‘I will see you to safety.’
The elves looked at him, grateful for being saved, bemused at the appearance of a powerful sorceress they did not recognise. N’Kari reached out and stroked the cheek of the nearest one. He quivered with pleasure. ‘We do not have any time to waste. Follow me. I will weave a spell that will get us out of here.’
He opened a portal and without giving the elves time to think, shepherded them through it before following him themselves. The elf he had touched was already looking at the other with insane jealousy. N’Kari chuckled, thinking of the sport he would have with this pair.
Behind him his army battled on. It would take them some time to realise they had been abandoned by their leader and begin a fighting retreat. N’Kari did not care. He had found what he had come for. Soon there would be two fewer of the line of Aenarion left.
There were not many more now. Soon his vengeance would be complete.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Lord Emeraldsea looked up from his telescope. He had obviously been studying the ships in the harbour. He gestured for Tyrion to join him on the balcony. Tyrion walked over, curious why he had been summoned into the august presence this fine morning.
‘It took us a thousand years to put Finubar on the throne,’ said Lord Emeraldsea. His words took Tyrion off guard. He had expected to be lectured about the events of the previous evening, about challenging other elves to duels at family parties.
‘A thousand years?’ Tyrion said, just to see where this was going. He was exaggerating. Finubar was not that old.
The old elf obviously sensed the current of his thoughts. ‘He was the first Phoenix King ever to come from Lothern. You have no idea how difficult it was to make him that. The work began long before Finubar was born.’
Tyrion wondered why his grandfather was telling him this. Perhaps the old elf was lonely and just wanted someone to talk with, to go over old triumphs with, but somehow he doubted it. Lord Emeraldsea did not strike him as someone who did anything without a purpose.
‘Why was it difficult?’ Tyrion asked, because he felt he was expected to.
‘The princes of the Old Kingdoms objected to it, of course. They have had a monopoly on the throne since before the time of Caledor the Conqueror. Aenarion was the only one they never had a say in the choosing of.’ He glanced at the huge statue of the first Phoenix King in the harbour with something like admiration. From up here all they could see was his back. ‘It’s always been one of their own they made ruler.’
‘Why did they object to Finubar?’
‘Because he was from Lothern.’
‘Because he was not of ancient blood?’
Lord Emeraldsea laughed bitterly. ‘Finubar’s house is as ancient as that of Caledor. So is mine for that matter. We have been here since the Kingdoms were founded.’
‘But you are not of princely blood,’ said Tyrion. He did not really care about that himself, he was just trying to understand the argument. Lord Emeraldsea looked hard at him, as if attempting to discern any trace of mockery or pride in his own ancient lineage. Apparently he was satisfied with what he saw.
‘No, we are not. But nowhere is it written, nowhere did the gods dictate, that our rulers must be of that blood. In the past, some of them were not, some were simple scholars or warriors.’
‘But they were chosen by the princes.’
‘Indeed. They were chosen by councils of princes, selected from candidates put forward by them, usually because the princes felt they could control them, or because they were in the debt of one prince or another.’
Lord Emeraldsea was tampering with his faith. Tyrion had always liked to believe that Phoenix Kings were chosen from the best elves available with the best interests of Ulthuan at heart. This all sounded rather sordid. He said as much.
‘All the workings of the machinery of power look sordid when you see them from close up,’ his grandfather said. ‘And they are. But that does not mean they are a bad thing. At least we do not have Malekith as our ruler like the dark elves. And that is the point. It is why he is not our king and we still fight wars with the druchii.’
Tyrion understood at