Later, after the assembly broke and the people began returning to their work outside the Hall, a dark haired man approached Satyros and bowed slightly.
“Captain Delphi, Maianiron begs an audience. I am here to escort you if it please you.”
“I would not decline.”
“Follow me, then,” and with an elegant turn, the Fæn soldier walked away. As he followed the soldier, Satyros wondered what she would need to talk to him about. It seemed that everything was already in order.
The soldier rapped on the solid oak door thrice and then said something in his native tongue. The door opened promptly from the inside. Satyros walked in, the soldier had already disappeared down the corridor.
“Captain, thank you for joining me,” the Faen Queen said as she sat in a high backed, wooden chair opposite a rather large desk. This must be a conference room, he thought, seeing the numerous amounts of chairs that we placed around a long table.
“I and my men and those of Paleia and Caniva had a harder time of it than I expected. I had hoped to talk to you before this, but I was delayed.
“There are not many who would have the courage to turn down an audience with you. There are few who would want to.”
“It’s been done. I take no offense,” she replied, pouring him a glass of sweet, summer wine. “Ah, but you would like to know why I asked for your presence, I’m sure.” She handed him the glass and poured her own.
“There are many things that must be discussed tonight so that you can understand what exactly is happening in my land and the one that borders us,” she began, resting her hands in front of her on the wood table. “The first point is this usage of the word, “land.” That is a tricky term.
“Let me explain. My land, as the rest of the population of Restinnen so deem it, is not actually in your land. That is, Fæ cannot be entered in the normal way that you would enter, say, Caniva. This is one of the key reasons why your people do not see mine unless we wish to be seen.” Maianiron stood at this, pacing. “Fæ is a gate, of sorts, to other realms. Our borders guard other lands such as ours, other kingdoms, if you will. But there is one that has always been a source of toil. The gate that leads to that world is broken; incomplete. My people have had the charge of guarding these gates since we first came to be. In all this time, we have had no problems with them. All except this particular one. It has always been a hardship for my people.
“This world that I speak of, we call it the Rogue World, is dark and full of torment. Like all other lands, it was once beautiful, but their leaders have abused the land and there is nothing left but despair and suffering. I have been there once, long ago, and would not wish any other to pass through that black gate, nor would I wish that anything from that land pass through to our side. If they were to come through, which they are trying very hard to do, it would not be to obtain peace, but to overtake and control these lands so that they could use them as harshly and irresponsibly as they already have done in their own. They enter freely into Fæ because our land is a sort of gate into the others. They pour out of their gate in vast numbers and it is all that we can do to stop them from discovering the way into your realm.” Maianiron paused for a moment.
“Is this too much at once?” she asked, looking worried. Satyros was, in fact, having a hard time digesting all of this as fact. It was all pretty out there.
“I follow you, only this reminds me of a grandmother’s tales. Pardon me for saying so.” Satyros replied, hoping that he hadn’t offended. Instead of becoming incensed with his candor, she let out a chuckle instead.
“Yes, I can imagine that this is all sounding a bit like a tale to scare misbehaving children,” she said, standing to her feet. “That’s the nature of your people, not because you are ignorant, but because we have tried so hard to keep these evils from entering your world. We were the remnant of people who were caught in the middle, charged with protecting all other lands. We have harbored our task from others and kept it as a symbol of our own worth. I suppose, in some disturbing way, it is our pride that has kept us from sharing this task. and may be our downfall if we are not in time. I recognize this now as vanity. In that, the fault is ours, but I hope you will understand our reasoning.”
“If this particular world is as evil as you say it is, then you have the thanks of all of Restinnen. I don’t think the King would mind me speaking on his behalf,” Satyros replied. This queen seemed trustworthy. As odd as her story was, he could see no lie in her face.
“That is well,” she said, seeming to relax a little, as though his understanding would somehow determine the fate of her people. “You will understand with your own eyes soon enough. Our borders are some days away yet, but I have brought evidence.” The queen bent to open a small, leather bound chest that sat on the table. She pulled out a black satin bulk and set it down on the table. Satyros felt something like a cold draft in his spirit and his curiosity got the best of him as he reached out to examine it, but Maianiron was quick to deter him, “Do not touch it, my lord.” Satyros promptly put his hands back in his lap, abashed. The Fæn Queen picked it up despite her warning to him.
“I told you that I had been to the Rogue World some time ago. When I went there, it was to parley with the leader of that land. That was a mistake that we shall not make again. That journey cost me many men. But I regress,” she picked up the black bundle. Even wrapped up, it filled Satyros with unexplainable despair.
“What you see all bundled up is a jewel that my one of my brothers brought out of that world. He died instantly upon reentering Fæ. Touching it is to touch death. The black cloth helps with the pain that I experience when I hold it, but it can be fatal for some who live in my land and all who reside in yours. That is the width and breadth of their evil: turning everything that was once beautiful into dark weapons to destroy anything weaker than itself.
“I will show you this thing only to help you understand that which we are in battle against. If upon seeing this, you feel that you cannot continue with this assignment you have only to say the word and we will take our request to Paleia or some other country here. None can judge ill of you for feeling so.”
Satyros nodded, accepting the challenge to look upon this thing that had already left shadows in the corners of his mind. Maianiron lowered her head for a moment, the pain of holding it making her take in her air more quickly. He fell to his knees, harsh pain coursing through his body. He had broken into a cold sweat, dizziness sweeping over him. Maianiron went quickly to his side, her arms the only thing keeping him from falling to the floor. As Satyros made a move to stand up, she helped him, her arms small, yet sturdy.
“You are stronger than most, m’ lord. The others blacked out.”
Satyros held his head as it still throbbed viciously. He scoped the room, but she had already returned the black jewel back in the leather-bound chest.
“I’m just glad you stopped me from touching the damned thing. Though I can’t imagine anything more malignant and disagreeable as what I have just experienced.” Maianiron smile was grim.
“You will if you agree to continue with the assignment your Commander gave you. I would apologize for showing you the jewel, but I would be even more ashamed if I were to lead you into something that you had not known the consequences of.”
“No, I understand, my lady. And my answer is the same that it was when my Commander issued the order in the first place,” Satyros said, rising to his feet. His knees felt like giving out again, but he held onto a high backed chair for security. It would be embarrassing twice over to fall twice in one audience. “Our King has honored our allegiance as do I. My men will follow me without hesitation. I will follow you in the same way I would follow my king.”
The Fæn Queen raised an eyebrow, “You do not take the time to think of the consequences, my lord. Are you sure that you will agree to this now?”
Satyros glanced at the chest and pointed at it with a weak finger. “If that thing is part of a world that can potentially enter our own, I will do everything in my power to stop it from happening.”
The queen nodded slightly, “If you are sure then I will not ask again. However, if after a night’s rest you decide perhaps you have made the wrong decision, you have until we march in two days to change your mind.”
“I am thankful for your graciousness, my lady,” Satyros said, still firm in his decision and not intending to even contemplate the ulterior choice. It was more than pride, it was what he had signed up for when he joined Gedi’s militia. He had fought for his land in the Uprising, could have left the militia after that, but he chose not to. It was more than duty, it was his life. He was certain that his men felt the same way. He had fought along side them often enough to know.
“That is well. For it would be given, nonetheless,” she said with a smile that seemed genuine, but also grim, as if she knew she had laid a heavy burden at his doorstep. Indeed, she had, yet she was also sacrificing much needed men. She would not have asked him, he thought, if she did not think there was a chance that he might turn back. That was a hard thing to do, Satyros thought. The possibility of losing men that could change the tide of a battle was catastrophic, yet she asked him anyway. Her respect for he and his men was beyond understanding. It was no wonder her people followed her so. It seemed that she would not make anyone bear a burden that she herself could not bear. It was comforting, yet Satyros had his own fears. He wondered how Maianiron’s people could fight a people so dark. He wondered if his men would be able to hold against such malignant darkness.
“With your leave, I shall take some time,” Satyros said, standing to his feet.
“As you will, m’ lord,” Maianiron also stood and pointed in a northernly direction. “There is a quiet garden that is very large on the outskirts of the city, beyond the Hall. If you are seeking solitude, it is where I often take time to go over my decisions from councils and the like. No one will disturb you there.”
“Thank you. I shall do that.” With a final bow, Satyros exited the council chambers and followed her direction.
When he arrived at the small gate that led into the garden, Satyros was immediately entranced by the sight. It was no wonder the Fæn Queen found the place to be an oasis. It was wild, but in some strange way it seemed to have a sort of path. As he wondered through it, he found that it seemed to have a unique set up with small, enclosed places and groves that welcomed a visitor for long naps. It was a wonder the queen came out of this place at all.
Finding a small spot on the edge of an open air stretch where the trees were tall and green, Satyros sat down and tried to sort out what all had transpired in the last several hours. That was a puzzle, even with the peace of the garden, was hard to sort out.
He knew what he wanted to do and he though he knew what his men would want, but it was not an easy fate, deciding if he would openly and knowingly send his men into a destiny that bespoke an infinite amount of despair.
He would have to make up his own mind, but he also knew that his first instinct was correct despite the hardship his men and himself would endure. Didn’t his father always say that the right thing to do was often the most difficult? It sounded like him at any rate.
Satyros sat for several hours beneath the quiet trees, pondering his predicament. Finally, it seemed that he had found an answer. There was no going home now. It would seem to his men that he did not believe they were capable. It would not be so bad, bearing the anger of his men if he knew that their lives were spared unimaginable horrors, but he knew if he were to question each man under his command, the answer would be the same each time.
II
As dawn approached, Satyros started and found that he had fallen asleep where he had sat in the garden. The morning air was fresh and the sky was veiled only slightly by whisps of morning fog. The last of the morning stars were finally flickering away and the lights of candles were just beginning to quicken in the windows as some of the people had woken to begin their day.
As Satyros made for the Hall, he saw a group of men in the yard. As he got closer, he saw several hundred of Maianiron’s soldiers gathered around her. Wishing to speak to the queen immediately, Satyros walked over towards the group, but he was stopped by a sentinel before he could get close enough to even search for the young woman.
“You must wait,” was all the cloaked figure said, then abruptly turned his back to Satyros. Craning his head to see what was going on, he saw the Fæn Queen standing in the middle of the huddled group, her hands raised. She began to speak in her native tongue and the Fæn warriors fell into a silence, concentrating on the lilt of her voice. Satyros did not understand the words, but he understood the emotion. She was most likely giving them a speech, a call to arms, a promise of vengeance on those who fell before. It was clear that her soldiers were absorbing her words like a drought-weary land takes in a fresh rain. She had a gift for speech, that was clear to Satyros just by watching the reactions of her men, and women. At the end of the speech, it seemed that she became more quiet, and the warriors became more intent and finally at the end, she touched her hand to her head and then to her heart and seemed as though the people surrounding her would fall to their knees. It was apparent that what she said struck a cord in their souls. Some found it difficult not to weep. It was a moment that would be forever burned into Satyros’ memory.
After a moment, she said one more thing and it sent them from a solemn silence to a tremendous roar that threatened the very foundations of the city. Almost at once, the group began to form up into ranks and the sentinel allowed Satyros to pass. If he had not already decided what he would do, he would have certainly decided at that moment.
“Apologies,” Satyros said as Maianiron stepped through the group to greet him.
“It was rude of us not to realize our customs are strange to you and your men. The apology belongs to me.”
“I have thought this through as you suggested, my lady,” Satyros said, skipping the small talk. “My men’s lives are worthy of my notice and I have not taken this situation lightly. However, Restinnen is ours to protect. It is what we have trained for and it is the desire of our hearts. If we do not fight, who will rise up in our stead? I grant you command of my men and myself to do with us as you see fit.” With this, Satyros bowed low to show his acceptance of her command.
“I do so swear to use your men in only the ways that I would use my own, to value their lives, and hold them in as high esteem as I would my finest captains. You have made a hard choice and for that you will always have the respect of me and that of my own men, my lord.” The Fæn Queen held out her hand and Satyros grasped her forearm in the ancient tradition. He had passed his command to this woman. He would still be Captain, but his ultimate orders now came from this woman who had promised his men and himself respect and honor. He had no doubt that she would be true to her word. His only worry was his duty to his men and bringing them home to their wives and children.
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