Chapter 47

Part 5

“Yes, and there will be a lot of explaining to do!” Jaromer laughed. “By now the human royalty, and that of the dwarves and other races on the other continents, will have noticed the sudden disappearance of the entire elven race, without a word of explanation to any of them! And when they hear that we all came to attend the wedding of a human, their reactions to not being invited will range from miffed to furious!”

“And perhaps it will put them in their place a bit!” Pimall laughed. “They could stand to be reminded that we are a powerful allied force in this world, and that they rule over none of us!”

“Well said!” Alilia said as she raised her glass in salute.

“And by the way, Jaromer, how is it that you sit at the head table, and I do not?” Pimall teased with a smile. “If it’s a matter of seniority, I have you by two centuries, and I’m a better wizard, and my people have by far both the most population and the most territory of all the elven nations!”

“I can only assume that our groom wanted someone at his table who is accustomed to dining with men!” Jaromer laughed.

“I’m just as glad to have you, Jaromer, but I’m afraid it was none of my doing!” Mark told him, enjoying the banter.

“I arranged your seating, Jaromer, through Nemia.” Alilia revealed. “For two reasons. The first is that we had one chair available, and you are the only one of the leaders who is single and unescorted.”

“There you are, Pimall, that is what I have that you do not!” Jaromer laughed. “A rather complete lack of a love life!”

“A rather complete lack of ability to commit to a relationship, you should say!” she returned. “You came unescorted so you could choose from all the available females here, you rake!”

“Ahh, you wound me deeply, though perhaps you have the truth of it.” He said with hilariously exaggerated melancholy, laying his forearm across his brow. “What was the other reason, Alilia?”

“I wish to ask your assistance. It’s a more serious conversation than we should have right now, but when the young get up to dance I will speak of it.”

“I think I can guess, and if I’m right, I would prefer that you not delay.” Talia stated firmly as she hand fed Mark a tidbit of some unknown candied fruit.

“And what is your guess?” Alilia asked.

“We wish to know of human wizards.” Talia answered. “Both the one that cursed you and father, and the one who slew Mark’s people, assuming one did. Jaromer is the obvious person to turn to for information and investigation of humans, and of their wizards. My soul burns for justice in these matters, as much as does yours or anyone’s, and if that is not what you meant to ask of him, then I so ask him now myself. A few minutes of seriousness will not spoil the evening, and our enemies may act again at any moment.”

“That is exactly it.” Alilia nodded.

“I see.” Jaromer nodded. “First, Yazadril, if you think that the detection spells you used to find the curse on you gave you any psionic signature of the perpetrator, give me what you’ve found and I’ll pass it on to my investigative specialists. If they’ve encountered the person or the person’s work before, they’ll know it immediately. As to the atrocity in Shinosa Valley… Give me a moment. All right, I’ve sent for my ambassador to the court of the King of Finitra. He may have some information on that matter. He’ll be here in a moment.

“Yazadril?”

“If I encounter the person who cursed us, or their work, I will most certainly recognize their aura, so I do believe that what I have will be useful in that regard.” Yazadril stated firmly. “Prepare for the Link. Here.”

“Received and sent on.” Jaromer nodded after a moment. “Ah, Bomil, there you are. I present Bomil, my ambassador to Finitra.”

Bomil was a very short elf, barely a hundred and twenty centimeters tall, blond, blue eyed, a bit bow legged, and with ears and a nose that were decidedly too large for the rest of his head. He bowed to the table in general, and habitually straightened the jacket of his neat brown suit. “What can I do for you, Jaromer?” he asked.

“Tell us, Bomil, what do you know of the atrocity in Shinosa Valley?”

“It was discovered five months ago, by a visiting resident of the next inhabited valley to the east, and word was passed to the garrison at Copper Strike, and thence to King Dren.” Bomil told them. “Some of the residents were found in the mill, some in the surrounding valley, and the rest close to their homes. Three are unaccounted for, and it’s assumed that they died while out hunting or trapping in more remote environs. I presume that Citizen Longstrider here is listed among those three, for there were no survivors reported. No cause of death has been decided upon, as it was not reported till at least a month had passed after it happened, and the deceased had been… disturbed, by scavengers, reducing the utility of examining them. The most popular theory at court is that they were struck down by a plague. The Royal Wizard of Finitra and his staff could find no lingering signs of the use of magic, but then, they are little more than a pack of twits at any rate. I would not be surprised if some of them were involved in some way.

“The nearest living relatives of the deceased were found, and internments were held according to the traditions of the Finitrans. The relatives of the deceased claimed their kin’s possessions and lands, but none of them chose to live in Shinosa Valley, and no one wanted to buy the land from them at first, for fear of plague. Then, perhaps five weeks ago, a village in eastern Finitra called Whiskers Delta and the lands surrounding it were slowly destroyed by flood, their land silted with sand, and the king felt he needed to re-establish Finitrans in Shinosa or risk losing sovereignty of the Whilo Peaks range to the Kingdom of Membitra, your neighbor to the west. So to solve two problems with one stroke, Dren bought the lands and buildings in Shinosa at the going rate, and sold them to the dispossessed from Whiskers Delta, who were allowed to take possession immediately upon promise of payments spaced over ten years.

“So I’m afraid it’s too late to reclaim your home, Citizen Longstrider, but if you so choose, I will contact your relatives, and see about having your family’s possessions and the proceeds from the sale of your home returned to you.”

“Uh…” Mark swallowed hard. “I’d appreciate that. There are a few of our things I’d like to have, for sure. As for the money, well I guess that depends on my relatives’ financial situation. If they need it, I’d like them to have it. I know my father had close kin down on the flats, and they exchanged letters once or twice a year, but my mother’s closest kin outside the valley were third cousins or something, and she’d never met them or even written to them. And she had a sister who’d married a trader, but I think they were out of touch for years due to constant travel. It’s, ah, it’s good to know my family were decently buried, at least.”

“I’m sure your kin will be glad to know you’re alive.” said Bomil. “And King Dren would be very interested in hearing your account of the events. Shall I give it to him? I assure you, your narrative during the ceremony made a strong impression on me, and I remember every word.”

“I don’t know. What’s he like?”

“King Dren? He’s a good man. A harried, nervous young man who can’t trust half of those around him, thrust into power too early by the magical assassination of his father King Wittan nine months ago; still unsolved. Despite that, he’s fair to all, and is quickly building skill at his role. Yes, I’d say that he’s a good king.”

“Oh. Well, tell him then. And you might tell him that although I’m an expatriate now, I still consider myself a loyal Finitran.”