Chapter 15

The Prince had concluded his other business for the day and was ready to see Raavan and the rest of the party. Quainen was to take them up to his study straight away.
      On their way up to the fourth floor they met the aged Queen Aryana, whom Raavan offered his condolences and words of comfort and strength. Though she was quite obviously a very old woman she seemed yet to possess all of her faculties, and she assured Raavan that she was ready to aid her son in his new role as ruler of the great kingdom of Pilinon.
      Upon reaching the fourth floor Quainen took them down a long, carpeted hallway to the Prince’s study, which featured tall windows facing out toward the sea. By one of these stood a tripod with a looking glass mounted upon it. There were just enough chairs for them all, and they all sat at the Prince’s bidding. Telurin himself sat at a large desk where a model of a great ship lay half constructed, now likely abandoned.
      Raavan wasted little time in getting down to business with the new ruler of this important ally. Though he must have been under considerable stress with the loss of his father and with the weighty responsibilities thereby set upon his shoulders the young Prince seemed to be holding up quite well and he listened attentively to all that Raavan told him.
      The wizard recounted the discovery by the Kastairi of the importance of the Nurune Codex and the failed attempt by the companions at retrieving it from Ilimath. He explained the significance of the fact that the codex was now almost certainly in the hands of the enemy in Tath. He described the great numbers of Goblyns, Troells, and Ghakhen which now swelled the enemy’s horde. Finally, he recounted their long trek through Arnedia and Arvalla as they sought to muster the allies of old to war, and the wizard explained that he hoped to convene a council at Valassea in approximately two months’ time.
      Quainen and Telurin both were silent during all of this. Though Talen half expected the prince’s cranky advisor to at least challenge some points of Raavan’s account he instead seemed to have quite a bit of respect for the wizard’s judgement in these matters. When Raavan had concluded his oration all sat silently in thought, though some more deeply than others.
      For the Elflings, who already were intimately familiar with all of these details, it took all of their restraint not to help themselves to the Prince’s looking glass or to draw each other’s attention to the various points of interest in the view out the window. Seeing their preoccupation Telurin rose and stepped over to the telescope, which he then set to the Elflings’ height. He showed them how to focus the instrument and familiarised them with some of the more interesting features of the landscape below.
      ‘Perhaps we should continue our discussion after dinner,’ suggested Quainen, for it was approaching five o’clock and already it had been quite a long day for all of them. Of course, none objected to this suggestion, and so the moustached man had servants show the travellers to a suite of rooms where they could wash and store their things. These also would be their lodgings for the duration of their stay, which pleased the Elflings very much, for the rooms were very luxurious indeed.
      The Elflings shared one room while Burak, Alatar, and Raavan shared another. They each had their own beds, which were both spacious and comfortable. Upon the beds were fine quilts and goose down pillows. The room itself hinted very little at the exterior appearance of the great Palurinan, for the floors were of hardwood and the walls of richly-grained wood panelling. Some of the walls featured great tapestries while others were adorned with exquisitely detailed murals that were painted to depict the view that would have been presented had there been enormous windows there instead of solid walls.
      Dinner was served in an equally luxurious dining room. All the party were present in addition to Prince Telurin, Quainen, and Telurin’s younger brother, Prince Kiliimar. The younger prince was very amiable, if slightly overactive, and he took to the Elflings immediately. While the men and the Dwarf spoke at their end of the table of matters political and military, the Elflings and the younger prince talked at their end of such boyish things as fishing and boating, and the proper way to fly a kite.
      After dinner Prince Kiliimar led the Elflings down onto the quay where they threw rocks into the water and watched the fishermen bring their day’s catch in to the commercial wharfs to the south. Far out to sea they could see great, blue birds diving head-first into the water. These the prince identified as pelicans, and he intimated that when the birds dove somewhat closer it could be seen that they threw back their great wings just as they entered the water, taking on the shape of a large arrowhead to better penetrate the water and reach the fish swarming within.
      He showed them how to make the kew-kew-kew-kew call of the sea eagle and told them that if one was attracted by the call then they should always throw a large fish to him, either in the air or in the water. To call a sea eagle and not throw him a fish was considered bad luck, and so they practised their call quietly, in case one might be near.
      Soon the sun was taking its failing light into the west and so they retired back to the Palurinan. They found the rest of their company with Telurin and Quainen and also General Kelenir, whom Raavan was briefing on the growing threat to the north. Kelenir informed the visitors that Goblyn raids had been reported with increasing regularity in northern Koronandor, though no spawn had as yet been seen within Pilinon’s borders.
      It was clear to the Elflings when servants brought two large pots of coffee to Telurin’s study that the ‘war council’ would go on long into the night. Though the Elflings obviously recognised the importance of the matters discussed they chose instead to join Kiliimar in his apartment, where at least there would be no thick clouds of smoke from Raavan’s pipe.
      The Elflings then entertained Kiliimar with a somewhat dramatised account of their adventures across Entira. The young prince was enthralled with their tales, for he had always wanted to go on a great quest but was of course too young. He showed them the wonderfully detailed maps which his father had given him and on these the Elflings traced their route from Laurelindor in the east all the way to Tath in the north-west. Especially captivating for the prince was the account of their lengthy trek through Ilimath and of the desperate flight from the dreadful Ghatâl. That they had lost one of their dear friends to that beast upset him greatly, however, and he seemed much less eager afterward to go on a quest of his own.
      The next day Raavan and Alatar and Burak were again closeted up with Prince Telurin and his retinue, so the Elflings spent much of the day with Kiliimar. Indeed, they were to follow much the same routine for the next week as Raavan did his best to advise Telurin and his generals and the Lords of the Riarach. Kiliimar attended his daily archery and fencing instruction and the Elflings accompanied him, giving him what pointers they were able.
      Kiliimar’s instructor, Sergeant Lelam, was fully as impressed with the Elflings’ archery skills as were the warriors of Greycastle, and when Kiliimar’s lesson was finished he arranged to compare his own skill to theirs. After each round of shots by all the party the sergeant moved the target back another thirty feet, till Lelam himself was lucky to hit the target at all. At this distance Falco consistently hit the bull’s eye, whereas Talen and Dannadar generally hit the bull’s eye or the first ring around it.
      On the third day of their stay in Pencairn the Elflings found themselves on their own as Kiliimar spent much of the day in rehearsals for his brother’s coronation ceremony. In the morning they entertained themselves by walking round the Penthrad and enjoying the fine architecture and the lovely flower gardens. At one point they actually encountered the head gardener directing a small work crew at one of the many smaller flower beds that decorated the City of Lords. They posed quite a few questions to the amiable fellow who was only too eager to share his botanical knowledge with the young Elf-like visitors.
      In the afternoon they took a walk along the seashore. In places where the coast was rocky they peered into the tidepools and examined the many living things they saw there, things which they could not name for they had never seen them before, nor had they even imagined that such things existed. There were tiny, tentacled creatures that affixed themselves to the bottoms of tidepools and waved their prehensile members about in search of tinier creatures upon which to feast. Others crawled along on six or eight or twelve legs, avoiding their tentacled competitors while hunting for the same prey.
      Particularly interesting to them were the sand crabs, which they noted had differently-sized pincers: one tiny one and one great big one. While the smaller pincer was used for picking up vanishingly small specks of food to eat, the larger claw was used as a weapon, either defensively or offensively, against their fellows. Many miniscule battles did they see unfold there on that sandy coast, between predator and prey, or between competitors for food or mates or shelter. It occurred to the Elflings that nature was constantly striving with herself, tending on the whole toward balance, but yet always in flux; sometimes turbulently so. Exactly what that meant for them they could not say, but it struck them as likely significant in some deeper way.
      When they had gone a certain distance they came to a diminutive island, barely large enough for six horses to stand upon. The island itself stood just offshore, somewhat beyond wading distance, but still an easy swim. Upon this mound of rock they could see that there had in ancient times stood a monument of some sort, likely triangular in shape, but now it was just an orderly pile of rubble. They decided to investigate.
      Though they had ceased wearing their armour for their stay at Pencairn they did have their short-swords with them, and these they left on shore along with their shirts. Wading into the water they found that the temperature was quite comfortable, and soon they were swimming and playing among the gentle waves, enjoying the pleasant sunlight and the warm, clear water.
      When finally they got around to swimming out to the tiny island they found that there was little there of interest. The monument, whatever it had been originally, was now just a meaningless pile of rocks, though from the shape of its base and the angled cuts of the stones they inferred that it had originally taken the shape of a pyramid. They decided to rest there, each lying along one edge of the ancient pyramidal structure. Lying there they closed their eyes and enjoyed the warmth of the sun on their bare skin and the red glow that filtered through their eyelids.
      Of course, falling asleep there was never part of their plan, and when they awoke in the early afternoon they found that they were quite sun-burned. So, without further ado they slipped back into the water and swam back to shore. But while they were donning their clothes again they noticed something very strange: the unicorn imprints on their hands had been stained a silvery-white by the sun, even the area interior to the outline, so that the symbol which adorned their hands now was even more striking than before.
      They continued quite some ways along the coast and then in late afternoon they turned back. Shortly before sunset they returned to the quay below the Palurinan. Here there was a large, almost castle-like building which Kiliimar had previously identified as the armoury, where military supplies of all sorts were crafted and stored.
      As they sat there on the quay watching the sun go down in the west a rather large man with red hair and a great bushy beard emerged from the armoury nibbling the meat from a large bone. Presently he noticed the Elflings and came over to greet them.
      ‘Well, hello, young masters,’ said the man. ‘May I enquire as to where you come from? For, you have the look of Elves about you.’
      ‘We are Elflings,’ replied Talen politely, ‘from Laurelindor, in northern Aresse.’
      ‘Are you here with Raavan the wizard?’ asked the man, his eyes narrowing as he looked more closely at the trio.
      ‘Yes,’ came the reply.
      ‘Remarkable,’ said the man, now chewing his meat somewhat absent-mindedly. ‘We had heard that Raavan brought with him a group of tiny warriors this time, mere lads who had slain vast numbers of Goblyns and Troells during an expedition into the depths of black Ilimath. But I hardly thought it was true.’
      ‘I don’t know that I would use the word vast ,’ said Talen humbly.
      ‘Yes,’ agreed Falco, ‘and anyway, it wasn’t just Goblyns and Troells: there were also the Ghouls, and the Daonracht, and the spear-throwing lizards, and the walking skeletons—’
      ‘And a Ghatâl,’ added Dannadar.
      ‘Yes, but we didn’t slay any Ghatâls,’ corrected Falco.
      ‘O, that’s true,’ said Dannadar. ‘Then again, we didn’t slay or even see any Ghouls inside Ilimath.’
      ‘No, those we didn’t encounter till we ventured into the Dark Forest of Druadaneth,’ agreed Falco.
      ‘Well, then you might as well add in the Gargoyles, for that matter,’ said Dannadar.
      ‘Of course!’ said Falco, smiting his forehead. ‘The Gargoyles! I had quite forgotten them.’
      ‘And don’t forget the Tsaureks,’ added Talen.
      ‘No,’ said Falco, ‘those I didn’t forget. But we out-and-out ran from those!’
      ‘True,’ agreed Talen.
      ‘Hey, do the Nara count as monsters?’ asked Dannadar.
      ‘I don’t think so,’ said Falco.
      Of course, the man was quite impressed by this dialogue, to say the least, and soon his meaty bone was hanging quite forgotten at his side.
      ‘This is truly amazing,’ said the man. Then, wiping the grease from his fingers he offered them his enormous hand, which they rose to shake in turn. ‘I am Berethir, second in command to General Kelenir.’
      The Elflings were fond of Berethir right from the start. The gentle giant listened attentively as they recounted for him some of their adventures in the wild places across Entira. Though he himself was a great warrior he had not slain near as many monsters as had these diminutive travellers, and his respect for them quickly grew as he listened to their tale. For the remainder of the week they fell into the habit of ending up at the quay at sunset, and every evening Berethir emerged from the armoury to hear more of the Elflings’ highly entertaining stories. He was especially fond of the comedic exploits of Dannadar and laughed most uproariously when Falco recounted the younger Elfling’s handling of the bandits in Arvalla.
      ‘Of course, though I laugh now I will have to see to it that something is done about those fellows in the woods,’ said the bulky man. ‘We’ve had several complaints of muggings recently on the low road to Eldernoch, but it has been difficult to get near the scoundrels. They simply melt into the woods whenever they see my men approaching. And so far they’ve caused relatively little damage. They mostly seem to target the rich, which leaves the average soldier slightly under-motivated, if you know what I mean.’
       
       
      Raavan, Burak, and Alatar continued to spend their days cloistered with the military planners of Pencairn, which included Berethir. When the burly man attended such meetings he always summarised the proceedings for the Elflings that evening on the quay, so that they at least had word of the others in their party even if they rarely saw them that week.
      On the final evening before Prince Telurin’s coronation the Elflings went for a walk just outside the north gate of the Penthrad. As they were returning in the dim light of dusk they saw Raavan emerge from the north gate and proceed along the river at a quick pace, obviously on some important errand or other. They decided to follow him.
      Several turns he made down dark streets, but they were able to stay just far enough behind to avoid being seen without losing sight of him. Then, as they all peered together round a corner they were nearly shocked out of their shoes to see a tall figure standing just two feet away from their noses on the other side of the corner.
      It was Raavan, and he looked down at them like a black storm cloud threatening to dump its heavy weather mercilessly upon them.
      ‘Raavan!’ said Dannadar. ‘Fancy meeting you here!’
      ‘Yes, fancy that,’ said the wizard sternly. ‘I hope you can explain yourselves.’
      ‘Of course we can,’ answered Dannadar. ‘It’s simple. We saw you leave the Penthrad and as it was obvious to us that you were on some important mission or other we thought you might need our help.’
      ‘My dear Elfling,’ said the wizard, ‘if ever I needed help getting myself into a pile of trouble, you are the very first person I would consult.’
      ‘Why, thank you,’ said Dannadar with a smile. ‘Then you will allow us to come along?’
      Raavan thought for a moment, then said, ‘I suppose there is no harm in it, as long as you can keep your mouth shut. But remember! What I said before about making hopping your primary means of locomotion was no joke. I’m sure you know it is well within my means to turn you into any sort of amphibian that I fancy.’
      ‘Yes, of course,’ said Dannadar impertinently.
      ‘Very well,’ continued the wizard. ‘Stick close to me and keep quiet, and I may just find a use for you.’
      ‘If you want to find a use for Dannadar, I think he’d make a very nice foot rest,’ offered Falco. None replied.
      Their first destination was a shoppe on a quiet street with great towering oaks set close between the buildings. It was a very dark street, with only one or two lanterns along its whole winding length. Raavan knocked soundly on the door, as it was locked. Above the door was a sign that read Apothecary .
      Raavan knocked several times before a horrendously ugly man came leering to the door. After looking offensively at Raavan and the others for a moment he said, ‘O, it’s you. What in Helh do you want?’
      ‘What I always want,’ replied the wizard.
      ‘My prices have gone up,’ grunted the man through glistening lips. Once again he leered at the party, this time displaying his black, broken teeth.
      ‘May we come in?’ asked Raavan with just a hint of exasperation. At this the offensive man turned and beckoned them into his shoppe. They entered and closed the door behind them.
      The shoppe was lined with many shelves on which phials of various shapes and sizes and containing a variety of contents were set. At a small table the vulgar man went back to grinding a white powder with mortar and pestle. Wiping his runny nose on the back of his hand he then continued his work, his index finger and knuckle glistening with snot.
      Now Raavan pulled from an inner pocket of his cloak a pouch that jingled with coin. Without opening it he set it on the man’s workbench.
      ‘Poisons,’ said Raavan. ‘Any notable orders in the last few months?’
      The man picked up the pouch and unwrapping it peered within. Apparently quite satisfied, he closed it up and placed it in his pocket.
      ‘Bloody half of this stuff could be considered poison, if you took enough of it,’ said the apothecary.
      ‘You know what I mean,’ said Raavan sternly.
      Then something curious seemed to pass between the two men, for suddenly the apothecary glanced up fearfully at the wizard, perhaps remembering an unpleasant encounter which he had had with the other in the past. Whatever the reason, he quickly became more cooperative.
      ‘No,’ said the apothecary, shaking his head. ‘Nothing like what you’re thinking of.’
      ‘You’re sure?’ pressed the wizard.
      The man thought hard. ‘There was a bloke who wanted to get rid of his wife about six months ago, but he didn’t need much to get the job done. I only gave him enough for one dose, and I told him to use the whole thing.’
      ‘What did you give him?’ asked Raavan.
      ‘Hexaphenol-glyceterol-acetyl-trithryzine ,’ replied the apothecary. ‘Eighty milligrams.’
      ‘Yes, well, that should just about have done the trick,’ said Raavan. ‘All right. Now, what can you tell me about any local cults? Religious fanatics especially: anybody into Úvar, or Manraith, or even Ur-Rautal?’
      ‘I haven’t been keeping up on that stuff much lately,’ replied the ugly shopkeeper. ‘But I’ll tell you what, there’s a fellow hangs out at Shaky’s you should talk to. Name’s Jim Bone. He can help you out.’
      The Elflings were relieved when Raavan bade the ungracious gentleman good-bye and led the party back out into the street.
      ‘You actually trust that rogue?’ asked Talen incredulously.
      ‘Gulkor and I have an understanding,’ replied Raavan. ‘Or rather, I should say that Gulkor has an understanding of what I will do to him if I catch him lying to me. Anyway, I do have ways of checking up on his veracity.’
      ‘So where to now?’ asked Dannadar.
      ‘Shaky’s Pub,’ said Raavan. ‘It’s not far, if I remember correctly—just down this way about two blocks. If we’re lucky we may run into this Jim Bone fellow in there and I can squeeze him for information.’
      Presently they arrived at Shaky’s Pub. When they approached the bar they were greeted by the palsied Shaky himself, who had earned his pseudonym through long years of spilling liquor intended for his customers. As the tremulous barkeeper drew four mugs of ale for the companions Raavan enquired as to the presence of one Jim Bone. He was informed that the man in question was not present but was likely to turn up before night’s end.
      So they decided to wait. First refills at Shaky’s were always free, on account of the first mugs generally being only about half full by the time Shaky delivered the wobbly beverage. So the party had a second mug, and after that a third, and then while they were contemplating leaving, a most curious character entered the establishment and sat right next to the companions at the bar.
      The fellow had a peg leg made of a large whale bone, and he was missing at least two of his fingers as well as several teeth. He wore a patch over one eye and had a scar that ran down from the patch to his mouth, where it clove his upper lip. When he entered the pub the people greeted him as Jim Bone.
      After several rums Jim Bone was telling Raavan and the Elflings all he knew of the Cult of the Red Eye, as it was popularly known. The members mostly were ‘hot-blooded’ ex-sailors and retired sea captains who had ‘banded together to crush the power of the ruthless landlubbers’ in the City of Lords through ‘kidnappings and brutal murders.’ Their most immediate goal was to ‘wrest power back from the bureaucratic pyrates’ and to ‘return the decency of the common seaman to the rule of a great seagoing nation.’
      ‘A raving lunatic,’ was Raavan’s assessment of the man as the four companions walked through dark streets in the direction of the Penthrad. ‘A complete waste of time.’
      ‘I agree,’ said Dannadar. ‘The ale wasn’t even very good.’
      ‘At least it was cheap,’ said Falco.
      Before they reached the gate into the City of Lords Raavan turned them down a side street and led the comrades up to a large stone building with an official-looking door.
      ‘What place is this?’ asked Talen.
      ‘The library,’ replied Raavan. ‘The Pencairn Archives.’
      ‘Isn’t it a little late to be doing research?’ asked Dannadar.
      ‘Not for the kind of research I’m here to do,’ said Raavan.
      They had to knock loudly on the door for several minutes before it was finally answered by a tall, thin, elderly man who greeted Raavan with quite a lot of respect and admitted the visitors at once. He appeared to be the librarian.
      ‘I knew I could count on finding you here, Annarus,’ said Raavan with a broad smile.
      ‘Good to see you, my old friend,’ said the librarian. ‘And how are Ruthos and Erieth doing?’
      ‘They’re both doing quite well,’ said Raavan.
      ‘That’s good to hear,’ said the white-haired elder.
      ‘Annarus,’ said Raavan, ‘have there been any rumours of our old friend Nostaite, by any chance?’
      ‘Good gracious, no,’ said Annarus. ‘I thought you took care of that character long ago.’
      ‘It seems I was not thorough enough,’ said Raavan.
      ‘I see,’ said Annarus. Then, suddenly remembering something, he said, ‘You may be interested to know that there has been another strange visitor to the library of late—a very curious fellow. He comes mainly in the evenings, shortly before I lock the door. Indeed, when I heard you knocking I was afraid it was he.’
      ‘Describe him to me,’ said the wizard.
      ‘I’m not sure quite where to begin,’ replied the librarian. ‘He dresses always in a long black robe with a hood, which he invariably keeps drawn about his features—and for good reason: never have I seen a man with eyes such as his. The one is pitch black and the other a crimson red. This together with his pointed beard and his dark complexion give him a most disagreeable look, if I may say so. Quite devilish indeed. But there is more than queer looks about this fellow. In fact, his reading habits are strikingly similar to those of that other rogue—’
      ‘Nostaite,’ supplied Raavan.
      ‘Yes,’ said the other. ‘All the standard necromancy references, the transcirculation codices, all the writings of Senahton and Gothmor, Oroeton, Morphon...’
      ‘Very interesting,’ said Raavan. ‘When did you last see him?’
      ‘Sometime last week,’ replied the old man. ‘His visits have not been as frequent of late. It seems they have slackened off quite a bit just these past two weeks.’
      Raavan thought hard about this for a moment, then thanked the elderly librarian for his assistance and bade him good night.
      Although the Elflings had many questions about the events of the evening, it was late and they all needed to get their sleep, for they all would be participants of the coronation ceremony on the morrow. Raavan instructed the Elflings to be ever vigilant during the ceremony. Even though many guards would be present to protect the prince, it still would be the most opportune time for a would-be assassin to get close to the new ruler, as the ceremony was to be open to the public.
      ‘Do you think King Eiliath was poisoned?’ asked Dannadar as the company climbed the red-carpeted steps up to the fourth floor of the Palurinan.
      ‘No,’ said Raavan, ‘I don’t. But it always pays to be careful. I want you to keep an eye out especially for this hooded fellow with the strange eyes.’
      ‘What will you do if we find him?’ asked Talen.
      ‘Leave that to me,’ said Raavan. ‘I’ve got something in mind for him. At this point in the game I’m not about to take any unnecessary chances, so I’m afraid I will have to be rather more forceful than I was with Nostaite.’
      ‘Can you give us a better idea of what you mean by forceful ?’ asked Dannadar.
      ‘Trust me, Dannadar,’ said Raavan: ‘you don’t want to know.’
       
       
      In the morning the companions took their breakfast together and then walked to the armoury where Berethir and another warrior were instructing a rather large group of guards. At Raavan’s suggestion the men were asked to keep an eye out for the queer-eyed stranger, especially at the gates, and to detain him should he be spotted.
      All the companions were in their full armour, which had been polished to a brilliant shine by Telurin’s servants. As the guards set out to prepare for the day’s events the companions went with them, lending a hand wherever they could.
      Barricades were set up around the perimeter of the courtyard where the coronation was to take place, not very far from the main gate of the Penthrad. The actual coronation would take place on a large marble dais that stood at one end of the courtyard with three steps leading up to it.
      When the gates finally were opened to the public the people began to come in, at first in a trickle but then in a steadier flow as the morning wore on. The Elflings mingled with the many guards at the barricades till it was time for them to take their places in the procession.
      When the appointed moment arrived the royal train emerged from the nearby Pilion to a lively fanfare. The peopled cheered at the approach of their soon-to-be king. Soon the retinue were assembled on the marble dais, where they were seated on fine benches which had been placed there for the occasion.
      The ceremony began with the reading of a rather long scroll by an elderly lord with wispy white hair. The oration declared with many long words that the proceedings which were about to begin were to constitute the ‘official procedures of ordination of the King of the Realm,’ and then proceeded to name all of the kings of Pilinon, in order, ending with King Eiliath.
      After this the bishop of Pencairn anointed the Prince’s head with an oil taken from a very ornate, golden ewer. This was followed by a great many other formalities and orations that many would have found quite boring were it not for the central fact that all present were about to witness the coronation of a new King of Pilinon: an event most historic and for many even quite emotional.
      Finally, a beautifully carved ivory throne was brought and placed on the dais, and in solemn silence the Prince rose and sat upon it. Then four lords brought a most impressive crown studded with many fine stones down the central walkway. They carried the crown upon a large red pillow which they themselves handled with white gloves. When they reached the base of the dais the men ascended to one side of the throne, where the crown was then held aloft for all to see.
      Now Queen Aryana rose and stood upon the other side of her son the Prince. After yet other formalities the crown on its pillow was held out toward the Queen, who carefully took and placed it upon Telurin’s head. A richly dressed lord stepped forward and spoke in a loud voice: ‘Behold King Telurin, ruler of all Pilinon and upholder of ancient dynastic tradition. All praise his name!’
      At this a shout went up from the crowd as one-by-one the lords came and bowed their heads on bended knee before the throne. When this was done it was time for the Elflings to do their part. Walking down the long aisle leading up to the dais the three of them carried the sword Niisilme, its bare blade resting on their outstretched palms.
      As they approached the throne Raavan stepped forward to receive the ancient sword, the wizard again holding the bare blade in his hands. Then with the Elflings standing to one side of the throne Raavan held the sword aloft for all to see, and though he spoke no words, all the crowd was silent in solemn anticipation.
      Now Raavan turned and offered the hilt of the sword to Telurin, who rose and taking the venerated weapon immediately held it aloft. As he did so the blade shone with a fiery blue blaze. All the crowd were awed as in silence they watched their new king raise the burning talisman toward the heavens.
      Raavan turned to the crowd and shouted: ‘Behold Niisilme, Blue Flame, sword of the Kings of Pilinon since time immemorial, and King Telurin, it’s chosen wielder!’