Restag nearly tore the curtain off the entrance to the High Council’s Hall as he stormed in, his voice like a crack of thunder as he bellowed, “What is this false play?”
Around the long room sat twelve men, each man the representative from one of the founding families that made up the Eisensaet tribe. Terror filled half the faces, and most of the others looked away. Only one met the thanesman’s eyes, smiling in that disarming way Restag so despised as he gestured around them, saying, “Restag Thanesman, my kinsman, it is good that you are here. I had forgotten to summon you. But now we can hold a proper vote, can we not, my brothers?”
“What vote? Answer me, Ecthar!” Restag snapped.
The face and posture of Ecthar Far-Sighted, High Elder of the Council, remained placid as he tapped his fingers against the rim of the Eisenband sitting on his lap. The elder replied with seeming confusion, “What else but the election of a new High Thane?”
Though he had expected the answer, to hear it so calmly stated flared Restag’s fury, his flushed face contorting briefly before he pulled himself together. He knew this man, knew he had intentionally replied in the way that would most stoke the thanesman’s ire, and Restag wanted to give that snake the least amount of pleasure he could. Gritting his teeth, Restag said, “There is no need, High Elder Ecthar. We have a High Thane. We do not need another.”
Shaking his head regrettably, the older Asgradi said, “But he has disappeared, vanished from his bed in the middle of the night.”
“It is not even midday. So few hours cannot merit this action. And would you, a keeper of the old ways, presume to name a new High Thane without the counsel and acknowledgement of the Lady of Alfmere? And what of the Foul Beast? Would you weaken its chains and tempt their breaking by allowing a false Thane’s brow to claim the Band?”
“What place has an elf mystic in the rule of the Asgradi?” replied the elder. “None in the lesser tribes, let alone the tribe of High Thanes. Her counsel and acceptance is a mere formality. Thane Witheric himself was named without seeking first her words due to the peril of that moment, and only several months later, when more peaceful days allowed it, was the pilgrimage made to the lake to receive the Great Lady’s blessing upon the new thane. Surely now, with winter fast approaching and so long a trip and the threat of snow and ice any day now, surely such practical circumstances permit the suspension of ceremony. Regarding the Beast, as Thane Witheric’s pitiful display during his ceremony did not rouse the creature to action, I cannot but suspect the Fell Shadow has faded after so many thane-worthy strikes of Dir’s heavenly fire during the countless prior crownings.”
Restag seethed at the blatant disregard for one of their people’s most sacred rituals and at the smiles several elders hid or barely restrained at the slighting of his friend and master, but before he could object, Ecthar continued, “As for the missing thane, yes, it is but a few hours since the discovery, but not, so far as we know, the event. And such a violent one, if the signs were read right. It is fortunate the Lady Eathir happened to be ill and absent from their bed that night. I take it, Thanesman, that you have yet to recover the body?”
What body? Restag said to himself. Yes, there were signs of struggle, but little blood or any indications of mortal injury. “No, but–”
“Ah, then that settles the matter,” the elder said, looking sorrowfully to his fellow council members. “After all, though we are in the season of rest from war, we cannot afford to leave the throne empty and the Eisenband unclaimed. We cannot afford to give our enemies another chance to attack us as they did three years ago, and with the marriage to Eathir Thanesbride so far fruitless…. Do not be so worried, Thanesman. It may be only temporary. Should Thane Witheric be found, then of course the Band shall be returned to his rightful brow. But until then, we must have someone on the throne, someone to guide us and command our warriors until the High Thane’s whereabouts are revealed.”
Blood boiling and darkening his face, Restag growled, “What vile of venom you spit today, High Elder.”
The elder’s mask slipped, and his words hardened as he said, “Watch your tongue, Thanesman. The High Council is decided, and not even you can stand against it. You are oath-bound.”
“I am oath-bound to the High Thane, not to the Council,” he retorted. “I owe you nothing, especially when you are so quick to abandon your thane.”
Another crack briefly showed, but the high elder reigned it in, returning to a calm face and voice as he said, “Do you call us oath-breakers, Restag Far-Sighted?”
“I spoke no such claim. That accusation is self-named,” he returned, and the older Asgradi’s face twitched. Suspicions that had been growing since Eathir woke him in the early morning at finding Witheric gone gained greater purchase in the Thanesman’s mind. He had fought against them, for they were grave, the gravest of their people, and not ones to bring against the esteemed High Elder without proof. But having witnessed his speech and actions….
Restag knew the insult he was about to levy, the implication of the act he was about to commit, but he needed to know. Gripping the pommel of his sword, he took a brief breath and plunged into the high elder’s mind. He felt the surge of heat from his fae blood as he drew upon its magic, all other feeling drowning beneath that heat. Sound disappeared, and his vision darkened for a moment before he found himself standing within a room much like the High Council’s hall, only draped in woven gold, talismans and engraved metal decorating the pillars and beams. At the head of the room was a dais of equally engraved stone, and sitting upon the dais was a gold-leaf chair occupied by Ecthar himself. The man looked out into the room with a straight stare, unable to perceive Restag’s visual and auditory presence. However, when he spoke, the thanesman knew his act had been expected and noticed.
