Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [65]
They charged into the main area, men in leathers with swords already drawn. The elven nobles fell back without argument or threat. Faerlthann saw some of them smiling indulgently at the humans, as a man might smile at the antics of a yapping puppy.
The humans came in a tight group, Arphoind in the lead, he was flanked by the two elder Silvers, each with his oldest boy, and several Turcassans and Merendils brought up the rear. These latter were recent arrivals from the south, where folk held low opinions of both elves and wizards.
Upon seeing Faerlthann, Arphoind raised a shout, echoed by the others. The young Obarskyr held up both hands for silence. The group quieted and slowly sheathed their blades. None retied the peace bonds that would prevent their swords from being swiftly drawn again.
Turning back to the throne, Faerlthann saw that the warrior-elf was on his feet with his sword drawn. As he glared over it at the intruding humans, the elven blade shimmered with its own light, and small arcs of lightning sizzled along its blade. Iliphar put a hand on Othorion's shoulder, and the armored elf slowly sheathed his weapon and sank back into his seat. The fury in his sky-blue eyes remained.
"Gentlemen," said Baerauble, "we were discussing the fate of this land, called by some Cormyr, by others the Wolf Woods, and by still others the Land of the Purple Dragon. So far the following suggestions have been put forth: a purge of all humans, a containment of all humans, or a recognition of elvish sovereignty under a minister."
The gathered humans started shouting at once, primarily to reject all the offered options. Faerlthann held up a hand, and once more they grew quiet. "I have heard two options from elves and one from an elf-friend. What of a human solution? Did not Ondeth agree to care for this land placed in his trust?"
"He did so," admitted Baerauble, speaking for the elves.
"And how long have we been in this land?"
"Twenty summers," said the mage.
"My father saw sixty ere he died," said Faerlthann, "so he spent a third of his life here, farming and helping other farmers. True?"
Baerauble made an exaggerated nod.
"Lord Iliphar," Faerlthann asked calmly, "may I ask your age?"
The elf lord permitted himself the briefest of smiles. "I see your point. No, this land is not as it was a third of thy lifetime ago. In many ways it is tamer, with many of the more dangerous beasts hunted out, never to return. The forest buffalo were diminished before you even arrived, and Ondeth himself proved his mettle against one of the last giant owlbears. Even the dragons are not what they were, the greatest sleep their lives away far from contact with any of us. And we, too, grow fewer, as more elves travel north to rejoin our cousins of Cormanthor. The wolves survive, of course, and the deer and the great cats, but, no, the land is not as it was. It would be folly to deny that."
"So we have been suitable caretakers of the small patch of land entrusted to us?"
"Ondeth was, but Ondeth is no more."
"Ondeth lives on in me," said Faerlthann firmly. "And I am prepared to take on his responsibilities."
"We offered a crown to your father, human," spat the warrior-elf Othorion. "He threw it back in our faces."
There was muttering behind Faerlthann. The young Obarskyr knew of the offer, as did the Silvers, but they had kept much of what had occurred that day quiet. "He rejected an offer of the elves to be the keeper of humans. He did not want to be a puppet dancing to an elven tune. Did I quote him correctly, mage?"
"Sufficiently closely," the lean wizard agreed. Baerauble had an anxious, excited expression on his face. Faerlthann took that as a good sign.
"A rulership