Chapter 2: Echoes

The horses' tack jingled in the brittle air as Callas and the rest rode out of Bucharest, towards where Riyor remembered the elven ruling seat being. "What awful country to put a capital in," Callas said, looking around. "It's so bleak."

"It's beautiful in the spring and summer, though. The colors of the countryside are very soft and subtle. It's the sort of thing we enjoy." Riyor, on his horse Nigel's back, was evidently anticipating seeing more of his own kind. He wore his cloak's hood pulled well up over his ears, protecting them from the cold.

"I suppose it's all in what you like." Callas was fidgeting on Spot's back, causing the mare to dance a little in protest. "Sorry, lovey. I'm nervous." She patted the mare's neck, making an effort to stay still. She was wearing her formal robes for the first time since the initiate ceremony, and was trying to remember if they'd itched so much during the ritual. Overall, the robes were made for comfort and practicality, designed to be ridden in as all Epona gear tended to be. The robes were split up the front, designed to be worn over leggings. When she was standing, the front of the robe seemed to be all one piece, but on horseback the wool draped to either side, over her legs. Her Headmistress badges gleamed on each shoulder, sewn on just that morning. She supposed she looked very priestessly, but the new wool itched terribly.

"What's the big deal? We ride in, you ask the Council what they want, we ride out again. Sounds simple to me." Gaius was riding just to the rear of the priestess, his own hood pulled up.

"In theory, it will be, Gaius. But this is the first time I'll have ever been truly representing my Temple, and really, I'm not sure how I'll do."

Gavião, riding in front, raised a hand and said, "Riyor, is that the stronghold you were talking about?"

"Gywellis Stronghold, it is indeed. Our destination."

Callas bit her lip, looking at the imposing fortress gate. Gavião reined in, dropping back beside her. "Callas." She looked over at him, her fear clearly visible in her wide green eyes. "Remember what I told you. You are the equal of any of them in worldly power, and you are the representative of your goddess on this plane. You have authority, but you have to act like it in order for them to believe you."

"We'll see just how good of an actress I am, I suppose. Riyor, any idea what we can expect?"

The elf shrugged. "I've never been summoned to audience before. My guess is that getting in will be easy, but they'll make all of us except the knight there surrender our weapons. They'll call in the Council, tell us what they want, and from there, I can't say. Oh, and they'll definitely want a formal introduction of all of us once we get into the Council chamber."

She eyed Riyor. "You haven't done anything that the people here might be angry at, have you?"

"Not that I remember, really."

"Oh, good." She fell silent as they came to the doors of the stronghold. The two elves guarding the outside of the doors might have been twins, they were so similar; both auburn-haired and brown-eyed, with the fey prettiness that so many elves were heir to. They lowered their pikes to cross in front of the door, and the twin on the left asked, "Who goes?"

Callas reined in Spot, just even with Gavião's Faidor. "Callas de Navarre, Headmistress of the Temple of Epona, in response to a summons from the Council of Elves." Her voice began shakily but had steadied as she continued speaking. "I and my companions are on official business."

The twins glanced at each other, and they nodded. "Then enter and be welcome to Gywellis, Headmistress. If you wait a moment, we can arrange an escort to the Hall." The left twin opened a small window at the side of the gate and spoke through it, and a few seconds later the doors began to open, very slowly. When it was open enough to ride two abreast, the twins nodded in unison. "The escort will be waiting just inside. Good day, gentles."

They rode in, Callas next to Gavião, the rest following. Inside, without a word, they were surrounded by a detachment of elves on fine-boned palfreys, their commander's plumed helmet waiving gaily in the chill breeze. Callas thought about attempting to strike up a conversation with the elf riding next to her, but looking at his impassive face, decided that she was probably better off simply pretending to be the Headmistress that she was going to have to become. Remember, impassive, impassive, you do this all the time, do not stare around you, not even at the buildings...

The buildings were indeed impressive, the white stone that they were made of glittering in the sharp sunlight. They did build as much for beauty as for practicality, and Callas thought that perhaps the reputation the elves had for being more concerned about beauty than about their fellows might be founded in fact.

They reached the Hall, word of their arrival evidently having preceded them; there were grooms to take the horses wordlessly. Gavião spoke softly to Faidor after dismounting and before handing the reins to the groom, doubtlessly telling the ill-tempered stallion that if he harmed any of the grooms, it would go badly for him once the knight saw him again.

Once inside, Callas sighed with happiness; it was much warmer, out of the wind. They were greeted by an older elf, his white hair contrasting with his nearly unlined skin. The elf looked at the group. "All must surrender their weapons; the Council is being assembled, but it will take an hour or two to make things ready. There will be refreshment served for you while you wait."

Gavião stiffened and growled, "I do not surrender my sword to anyone."

The elf raised one perfectly snowy eyebrow. "All except the knight, then. Will you be peacebonded?"

Gavião nodded. "That would be acceptable."

The rest surrendered their weapons--Callas her staff, murmuring a word to it as she handed it over, Riyor his sword, Gaius the set of daggers that he carried but rarely used, the dwarf his axe, also rarely used. The white-haired elf produced a leather thong and with a speed that betrayed many years of experience with swords, wrapped the hilt and secured the sword to the scabbard.

He led them into a small room where bread, cheese, and wine red as blood were laid out. "If you could wait here, I will come to bring you before the Council when we have assembled. Through that door there is a bathing room if any of you feel the need to wash. Please don't wander the halls. The guards take their duties seriously, and all except Prince Riyor there would be somewhat obvious. And all of us know Riyor."

The elf asked cheerfully, "Oh, is that poster still circulating? It's a good likeness, but I've never been able to track down the artist to compliment them on it. By the way, do you know where I can get strawberries?" Callas groaned to herself. Again with the strawberries.

"Strawberries? It's almost winter. There won't be strawberries for another six months."

"My mother--Princess Shaya, I'm sure you remember her--told me to brng her some strawberries. In September." He shook his head sadly. "I'm not to come back without them. I was going south to see if I could find some, but, as you can see, I got sidetracked."

The white-haired elf coughed. "Well. I'll be back for you in a bit." He turned and left.

"Jheris is always so stiff. You'd think being Speaker sucked all of the humor out of him." Riyor sighed and stretched. "It's good to be back in elven territory again, though. And someone's raided the wine cellar for a good vintage, I see."

Callas rolled her eyes. "You're a bit of a snob, aren't you, Riyor?"

"Never! Elf of the people, I am. I hang around with you lot, don't I?"

"Oh, let's see. The Headmistress of Epona, her Knight Protector, a dwarf who's a little too close to the Iron Throne for comfort, and a bloodthirsty monk. Yep, we're rabble, all right."

"Don't forget the pirate! Galvin's definitely rabble."

"Privateer." Callas' correction was automatic at this point. "And he's my Second, so no, not exactly."

"Hnf." Riyor dismissed the girl's arguments with a wave of his hand and uncorked a bottle of the wine. "We're going to be here a while, folks. Might as well get comfortable. Glass, anyone?"

Two hours later, long enough for Gavião to nearly pace a hole in the fine carpet, Jheris returned for them. They followed him into a large chamber, made of white marble that shaded into grey near the roof. The Council of Elves--so Callas assumed they were, were sitting in a half-circle of seats surrounding a raised platform. There were three rows of seats, each higher than the last. Perhaps somewhere between a third and a half of the seats were occupied. The elves were all as remotely beautiful as distant mountains, their angular faces and delicate bone structure managing to convey both an impression of great beauty and utter unworldliness.

They had hair of the finest gold, like Riyor's, or of midnight black or polished mahogany. One, sitting in the very back, had hair that, even on second glance, was dark green. Half dryad, I'd guess, though what she's doing sitting on the elven council I'll probably never know.

Callas twisted he hands in her formal robes, and then reminded herself not to show any nervousness. She felt Gavião's calm presence at her side and tried to let herself lean on his strength.

Jheris had led them onto the platform and they stood facing the audience. He then stepped to the front of the platform, and said, "I call this meeting of the Council to order. We have called on the Temple of Epona, and they have answered--this is Callas de Navarre, the new Headmistress. I will let her introduce her retinue."

Callas nodded at the elf and took a breath. "As the Speaker said, I am Callas de Navarre, Headmistress of the Temple of Epona." She indicated the tall knight standing to her left, the picture of knightly poise. "This is Sir Gavião Nobre, my Knight Protector.

"I'm sure that many of you are at least acquainted with Prince Riyor of Cartmage, who travels with us." The blond elf grinned and stifled an urge to wave at the Council. "To his left is Arnjolt Hammerhandson, of the line of the Iron Throne." Arnie nodded, his braids swaying with the motion. Fortunately, Aiden didn't seem to be present at the moment. Callas could only imagine what the drow trapped in the dwarf's body might do if confronted with a whole council full of elves.

"Next to Gavião is Gaius Valerius, a monk and scholar who hails from Rome, and who is our researcher." Gaius inclined his head, seeming mostly uninterested in the proceedings. Callas saw the alert set of his shoulders and thought that he was paying much more attention than he appeared. "I am honored to appear before you, gentlefolk."

Jheris looked like he wanted to comment, but forbore. Instead, he rose from where he'd sat, and began to speak.

"I am Jheris, Speaker for the Council, the living voice of the elves of Europe. Lady Headmistress, we have made a most grievous error, and we must beg your forgiveness--and your help.

"About five years ago, we were approached by Morgan le Fay. We had found out about certain activities of hers that we found distasteful, and were in the process of moving to stop them. She gave us a choice--either we would stay silent and not stand in her way, or she would use a certain weapon she had at her disposal that would eradicate all but a few remnants of our race. If we withdrew from the fight, we would be spared.

"The weapon she threatened us with was the plague, a variant targeted specifically towards elves. And now, there are those among us dying of the plague. We have been betrayed."

The Speaker cleared his throat, as if admitting that the elves had been wrong took a very great effort. Callas thought, privately, that the elves were such a proud people that it had probably cost them much more than she knew to even admit error, much less ask for help. But what could they possibly want? What can we do for them?

The white-haired elf recovered and continued. "We have heard that you are combating Morgan le Fay. Is this correct?"

"We're working to combat the plague. Morgan seems to be behind the distribution of it, and so we're working to prevent that."

"We share a common goal. And, so, I with the authority vested in my by this council, offer this: alliance. Whatever we can do to further your goals, we can. Warriors, what information we have, we will give you. We do not take betrayal lightly, and you seem to be the only people working towards overthrowing these people who would eliminate all of the magic in the world."

"So what do you know of our enemies? We are woefully under informed."

"All we know is that Morgan le Fay is part of--and perhaps the leader of--the council of people who are trying to eliminate the magic in the world. Our intelligence suggests that there is another purpose, but we have been unable to discover what it might be. You have eliminated one already, as far as we know, the drow Elan."

"Elan had some papers on him when we killed him that indicated as much." That had been a nasty business indeed, beginning with learning that Arnie's parents had been captured and were being twisted by a substance known as red mithril, and ending with Gaius killing the little drow he'd been spending all of his time with. She'd never forget the moment when Drayla had laid a hand on the priestess' arm and said, "If I am meant to live, he will spare me. If he is angry enough with me that he will kill me, naked and unarmed...then perhaps it's better that way."

And she had walked to him and bowed her head before him. Gaius' dagger had slid between her ribs, and ended her life. Callas could still see the look in his eyes, the cold darkness that she'd seen in him, the absence of feeling. She had betrayed him, and Gaius evidently took betrayal badly.

Callas shook herself a little, coming back to the present time.

"We know a few more names. Arumaga is a white dragon, quite intelligent for his kind. Caul is another one, a Yuan-ti who is active in this area. Lord Nikodemus is in charge of Morgan's armies. Tennant is a drow, a fighter who has gained renown even in the Underdark. Those are all the names we know, but the list strikes fear into all of our hearts. Arumaga, in particular, we know of old. He--"

But whatever Jheris was about to say was lost as a wail suddenly came from the green-haired woman that Callas had noticed before. "No! He is dead, he is dead, he cannot be--"

Callas began to feel quite peculiar, a wave of dizziness causing her to stagger and lean on Gavião so she wouldn't fall. And she heard in her mind a whisper, a voice so familiar yet one that she couldn't remember hearing before.

Sucellus, the god of the forest, is dead. It has begun.

The green-haired elf collapsed, screaming Sucellus' name. As she fell, Callas through blurred eyes managed to pick out the design on the pendant that she wore around her neck.

The woman was a priestess of the forest god.

And it was at that point that Callas heard the screaming, and realized it was coming from herself. The room erupted with motion and sound, but she heard and saw little of it, her mind reeling with the unimaginable horror of what she knew had just happened.

Mercifully, the world went away for a time.

An hour later, Callas and Gavião were back in the room they'd waited for the Council in. Callas had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, fighting the shivers that were still plaguing her. Gavião stood by his charge, waiting watchfully.

"Everything's changed, now. We think of the gods as eternal and unchanging, and now...if they too can die? Where does that leave us? What happens if Epona dies, Gavião?"

"I don't know." His voice was calm but worry colored it; as a church knight, he too had been profoundly affected by the death of the god. "Tiersa, the half-dryad who was in the council chamber, seemed to be driven almost into madness by it. I imagine in time we'd recover; there will always be a place in the world for fighting men, and your skills as a herd wrangler and animal healer aren't only gifts from the goddess. We'd both make our way."

She pulled the blanket around her a little tighter. "At least it would solve the problem of me being Headmistress. No Epona, no Order, no need for a leader. Right?"

"Don't even think it, Callas. Besides, if it did come to pass...the Order has obligations. With or without the goddess, we have herds to manage, children to help raise, and animals to heal--with or without divine help." He looked down his once-patrician nose that had been broken a few too many times at her. "We both have jobs to do."

"I know. It's just..." She trailed off. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

Finally, Gavião asked, "Callas, what's eating you? I wouldn't have expected this to affect you as much as it has."

Callas straightened, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders, the gold threads in her badges catching the light from the sunset outside the window. "I...Damnit, Gavião. The past couple of months, everything's been an adventure--a dangerous one, but it's been almost fun. It's not any more. Everything I've ever believed, my whole life, everything I live for is threatened, and I have no idea how to fight this. Where do we even start?"

"You want my opinion?"

"Yes, I do. As much as I know I'm letting myself in for a lecture here."

He gave her a quick smile. "No lectures, just a piece of advice. Start by taking your position seriously. Epona had a reason for making you Headmistress. Prove her right. You're doing nobody--not yourself, not us, not the Temple--any favors by not doing your job."

She nodded. "I just wish I knew why. I'm nobody, just an acolyte still. Headmasters are supposed to be wise and powerful, and, well..."

He watched her fidget with her cleric symbol as she spoke, unconsciously. He chose his words carefully. "You're wiser than you think you are, and you have the calling. But more than that, lass, you have potential. Enough potential that Corison assigned me to protect you. He could have assigned any knight, but he thought you were important enough to merit me."

She tilted her head, querying. "You know, I've never asked. What position do you hold, relative to our ever-so-forbidding Knight General?"

He shrugged. "I'm one of three commanders directly under him. And I am his Second, much as Galvin is yours. This detail, I believe, was killing two birds with one stone--protecting you, and separating him and me. Corison, I believe, expects whatever happens in the next year to mean the end of his life. And my general's no fool; I've been his friend long enough to know."

"I wonder what he knows that we don't?"

"I intend to find out, next time he and I are in the same country. Ah, that'll be the rest, I think."

Riyor opened the door and stuck his head inside. "Hullo. Feeling better, I hope?"

Callas smiled at the elf. "Much. The shock has mostly passed."

"Good. Because there's someone here to see you."

He walked into the room. After him came Arnie and Gaius, and after them the green-haired elf who had screamed and collapsed in the council chamber after the death of Sucellus. Her name was Tiersa, as she recalled. What's she doing here?

The elf was pale, seeming to be remaining upright only by an effort of will. Up close, her hair was not the only feature that marked her as a half-dryad. Her skin was tinged green around her fingernails and mouth, and her eyes were an extraordinary violet that only occurred in the treefolk. She came before Callas and sketched a bow. "Lady Headmistress. I am Tiersa. I have--" She closed her eyes, steadying herself with a hand on Riyor's arm. "I have come to deliver a message."

She took a shuddering breath. Callas asked, "Tiersa, are you sure you should be standing? Please, have a seat, at least."

Tiersa shook her head. "No, I need to tell you this." Another breath. "After Sucellus died, we of his Order were given a choice. We could give up being druids, live by whatever other skills we have, learn to live without being what we are. Or--we could convert. To the worship of Epona." Before Callas' shocked eyes, the half-dryad crossed her arms over her chest, bowing her head. "I chose to convert. So I am here to offer my fealty, Headmistress. Will you have me? And the rest of us?"

At her words, a shocked silence fell over the room. Callas felt as if she couldn't breathe, searching for words that simply would not come. At last she said, "On behalf of my Temple and the order, I accept, Tiersa. Now, please, will you sit? I would not have your first act as a cleric of Epona to be to collapse on the floor here."

Tiersa sat, a grateful expression on her face. "The other part of my message is that Epona, as the closest aligned god to Sucellus, gained his spheres and duties when he died. Including his granted powers. I can now speak to animals, and you can now talk to plants. I am to acquaint you as well as I can with what we can and cannot do before you leave, which I understand will be tomorrow morning."

Callas said, "Yes, we need to investigate reports of the dragons and the orcs to the east of here seeming to be aligned." She paused for thought. "Who leads you? Led you, I suppose."

"Our Hierophant is a man named Marcus Argayne. I am somewhat acquainted with him. I believe he will have converted; Marcus served not the god himself so much as the principles that the god embodied. Since those principles are now in the care of Epona, he will follow her."

"Where is he based? Do you know?"

"Marcus is a wanderer. It is difficult to tell where he will be. I would expect him to come in search of you sooner or later. Probably in Madrid, since that's where the main Temple is."

Riyor asked, "You know, Tiersa, I never caught your family name."

"And you're wondering why I, who am obviously not a full-blooded elf, sit on the Council. My full name is Tiersanalisia ap Ruthvane dux Ducis. And that, Riyor, should explain everything to you."

"I'd heard that Meris had been forced to recognize someone from one of the cadet lines recently. Interesting."

Callas asked, "For those of us not familiar with elven politics, could you explain?"

Before Tiersa could reply, Gaius answered, "Dux Ducis is the name of the family that leads the elves, their equivalent of a king, though the concept to humans is more like an emperor. The ap Ruthvane, I believe would be her mother's line, and the fact that it's included in her name means that her parents weren't married when she was born, making her a member of a cadet line--legitimized bastardry, basically. Begging your pardon, of course." The last statement was directed as Tiersa."

"None taken. I realize you humans must often resort to plain speech to explain our ways."

"Indeed. Anyway, Callas, she sits on the council in effect because her father's family is one of the most powerful in the elven world."

"And I am--was--the representative of Sucellus's druids to the council. An emissary of sorts, straddling both worlds."

"I see. And now...will you remain on the council?"

The half-dryad shrugged. "As long as you don't assign me elsewhere, I will continue in my position, only now I will represent the druids and the clerics of Epona."

"That sounds reasonable to me. Gaius, I didn't know you knew so much about elven society."

The monk replied, "The land I come from was ruled by the elven empire for six centuries, until about fifty years ago. We all still learn Elven as well as Italian, and I can recite the lineage of the dux Ducis family back, oh, probably two millennia. It helps that elves don't breed very quickly."

"You're from Italy, aren't you? There was a bit of trouble there a century back or so."

Gaius chuckled. "You call it a bit of trouble, the Order of Morrigan called it a victory for human sovereignty. The rest of us sighed and were just happy we could go back to farming. It was a conflict that concerned Emperor Ferdaranis and Morrigan's Order, not the rest of us, for the most part."

Her tone was dry. "Glad to hear you don't hold a grudge."

"It was almost eighty years before my time. Why would I? Besides, the Order of Morrigan's never done me any favors. Ceriwiden's far more widely revered in my part of Italy."

Tiersa said, "Callas, is there anything more you needed to know about the Order of Sucellus?"

"I think I can get most of what I need from Marcus when I see him. Is there anything else you'd like to pass on?"

She shook her head. "Not that I can think of. I think perhaps I should go lie down. It has been a very, very long day."

Callas nodded. "Riyor, Gaius, could you please see her back to her quarters?" The human and the elf nodded and rose, each of them taking one of the druid's elbows and helping her out of her chair.

After she left, Arnie stretched. "Faugh, elven politics. Too many alliances to keep track of. Sneaky bastards. Axes are much less prone to misinterpretation."

"People on fire don't have time to argue, I suppose." Gavião's voice held a bit of amusement. This was a discussion they'd had in a number of different forms over the past month and half.

"The screaming usually limits it. Like that white-haired elf today."

Callas frowned. "What did you do, Arnie?"

He shrugged. "I hate people who make cowardly choices like they did. So I slipped one of my exploding crystals into his pocket when everything got confused and you fainted." The dwarf's grin was nearly obscured by his beard. "His pants got mighty uncomfortable about five minutes after I last saw him."

Gavião rolled his eyes. "You're as bad as that damned elf. Worse, actually. You do realize that he's our host, right?"

"Do I care?"

"Obviously not." The knight sighed. "We'll see you in the morning, Arnjolt."

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