Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [66]
"I am not demanding this of you," said Faerlthann, turning to the other assembled men. "Good gentles, these elves will not deal with us seriously unless I hold some sort of power in our community. You've known me almost all my life. If you must have an official leader, is there any better available, any you'd rather serve than I?"
Arphoind was the first to reply. The youth strode forward and stood before Faerlthann. He drew his sword as he did so, and drove it into the soft earth before him point first. Kneeling by the blade, he said, "I pledge my loyalty to House Obarskyr, to the memory of Ondeth, and the blood that runs in your veins." His thin voice cracked and quaked, but the words rang clearly throughout the pavilion.
Faerlthann pulled Mondar's blade free of the earth and gently tapped the youth on the shoulder. "Arise, Sir Bleth, first of those who serve me."
Arphoind's kneeling pledge was followed by those of the Silver brothers and their sons. Then the Turcassans and the Merendils knelt, and one of the Rayburtons. All swore their fealty to House Obarskyr and named Faerlthann their lord.
Faerlthann turned back to the throne, a lump in his throat, and saw that Iliphar had left his throne and was now gliding down the wide steps toward him. The elder elf moved effortlessly, his robes billowing like the sails of a great sailing ship as he drifted down to earth.
At last the ancient elf stood face-to-face with the young human. Iliphar towered over Faerlthann. His sallow, hollow-cheeked face was stern as he gazed down upon the younger man. Faerlthann tried to keep awe from his face as their gazes met. The elf lord's deep old eyes danced with… mischief?
"We meet now as equals," Faerlthann said, rousing himself with an effort. "As leaders of our people. Let us come to terms now."
"If you would be king, you must have a crown," said the elf, raising his slender hands to the circlet that banded his own brow. Behind Iliphar, the warrior-elf spat a protest, but the old elf took off his crown and held it aloft over Faerlthann's head.
"I cannot make you king, for your own people have done that," said Iliphar, and though his voice seemed quiet, it called forth echoes from trees outside the pavilion. "I only recognize that fact in granting you this crown, Faerlthann Obarskyr, son of Ondeth, lord of Suzail, master of the humans within it, and King of Cormyr, the Wolf Woods… the Forest Kingdom. I call upon you to protect this land as the elves have protected it, to recognize the rights of the elves to hunt within its domains, and for you and your heirs to show wisdom and compassion in the dispatch of your duties. Your father ruled for twenty years while rejecting any title. You will have the harder job, for much will be expected of you."
With that, the elder elf laid the circlet on Faerlthann's head. Jaquor Silver led a shout of acclaim from the watching humans.
Othorion, the warrior-elf, let out a cry of rage as his radiant blade slid out of its scabbard once more. "Has age finally addled you, my lord," he snarled, "that you invest such children-such rough, uncultured, unfeeling, unwashed cubs-to protect our forest? I say we should drive them like the rothe before us and make this land truly ours again, washing free the stain they've left upon it with their own blood! Let us be masters of this forest once more!"
There was a murmur of assent, small but definitely present, from the watching elves. The men drew together, hands straying to their blades. Arphoind Bleth strode to Faerlthann's side, his blade half drawn.
Baerauble broke in. "Your first challenge, Lord of the Land of the Purple Dragon. How do you respond to this?" There was a trace of mockery in his tone.
No, not mockery, thought Faerlthann, putting out a hand to stay Arphoind. The wizard was stressing the title of the land. The fledgling King of Cormyr looked at Baerauble, seeing if the mage's tone meant sarcasm. No, the wizard was nervous now… more anxious than