Chapter Seventeen: Preparations Underway

Tranith Argan: Book 4

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The council ended, now everyone makes plans.

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In the days that followed the council, Felanar spent much of the time trying to further convince the hesitant elf lords of the effectiveness of his plans. Lloánan was no problem, nor was Llarand. It was Lledar who needed more time to think about it, and Llafála who was still hostile to the concept.

“Despite what you must think of me, young man,” said Llafála as he and Felanar walked through the woods a few days after the council, “I am not stubborn and uncaring.”

“I never suggested that,” said Felanar.

“Your eyes did,” replied Llafála, and Felanar realized he had no response to that. Llafála continued, “You must understand that my motives are simple. I think you a good-hearted man. I trust your honor. I do not trust your experience. You have seen several times in your brief rule setbacks to your ideas. Each time you come out of the experience vowing to have learned your lesson only to stumble in some other way.

“Oh, do not let your anger grow at these words for I do see merit in your learning: you do not make the same mistakes. There is something commendable in that. Yet with my people I have to decide whether to risk their lives in order to further a plan of yours that remains untested and without the experience to put my mind at ease. If you learn yet another lesson on the future battlefield, that will be of scant comfort to the families of elves whose eyes will forevermore be dark.”

“I respect those views, Llafála, truly I do, and I thank you for telling me your thoughts instead of objecting without comment. What can I do to put your mind more at ease? For weeks I have been thinking of what I would do should I regain power. My companions have thought me lifeless and dull for I have been so introspective. My aim was to find a way to confront the Evil One that would once and for all end his rule. You would like this too, would you not?”

“Indeed, all peoples of the world would wish this.”

“Even his own subjects,” pressed Felanar.

“Yes, that is true,” acknowledged Llafála, “but you underestimate the effort that it would take to overcome a lifetime of fear and submission. A beaten dog does not quickly unlearn old habits even should his master be removed from the picture.”

“So you think the people of Shanaar will not rise up against their ruler?”

“I think anything is possible. Some of us would not risk troops until we knew more.”

Felanar nodded slowly and said, “Do you have military experts among your people, some with whom I could confer on my plans?”

Llafála nodded. “Now you show true wisdom. I will introduce you to some experienced fighters of the Findára. Convince them of your plans and you convince me.”

“We are agreed on that, and I thank you,” said Felanar with genuine gratefulness.

For several days Felanar discussed his war plans with Findáran experts and discovered several nuances to strategy that he found to be useful and further convinced him that his plan could succeed. By the time his discussions with the elves ended, they had altered his plans enough that all sides were agreed on its effectiveness. Even Llafála gave his assent at last.

During that time Dolen took his leave to return to his land and his people. The dwarf king had shown patience for quite some time but now was truly homesick. He was to sail home on a ship of the Erenár and was anxious to be on his way. Felanar and Kara and Alessa accompanied him to the ship and there were many hugs on the dock.

“Thank you for your assistance, both on the battlefield and on our long journey through the wilderness,” said Felanar to Dolen, who stood at the base of the gangplank. “We could never have survived without your help. Know that our peoples will forever be linked in friendship because of the experiences we have shared.”

“I await your word, Felanar,” said Dolen once he had gingerly climbed onboard and turned to face those on the dock. “Give the call and a mighty army of dwarves will march to Argan. More than has been gathered since the days of old.”

“You shall have plenty of notice, my friend,” said Felanar. “I look forward to fighting by your side yet again.”

“Aye, and this time we come out victorious.”

“Agreed!”

The ship carrying Dolen grew small against the horizon, when the three other travelers returned to the woods. The next day brought new arrivals, another ship carrying Chafrar and Sera, Felanar's and Kara's parents. They went back to the dock to warmly greet their adoptive parents with many tears and hugs. They immediately went to Llarand's home where the family was set up with comfortable quarters and a welcoming meal set before the couple. Llarand caught his servant’s eye and made a subtle gesture. The elves in attendance quietly withdrew, leaving only the family to their meal. For the four of them, this was their first meal together for quite some time.

“They told such stories down at the pub,” said Sera, smiling again at the beautiful sight of her children's faces, “stories about how you were both dead. They also said you were not really the king, Felanar.”

“Fools said such things,” said Chafrar.

“Yes, dear, it was foolish to say it, and to their credit both Jalek and Namil said they would not hear of such words in their pub,” said Sera.

“Good ol' Namil,” said Kara, “I miss her endless chatter.”

“That hasn't changed,” said Chafrar as he drank from his glass. He had long ago adjusted to the ways of elves at Elaria, and while there were some customs he did not enjoy, the elvish drink was more than acceptable to him. Knowing this, Llarand's staff always made sure to keep his cup full. “Not much has changed in the village,” he said.

“I'm glad to know it,” said Felanar. “Some places should remain as they are and Brindledown is one of them. However, mother, you can be assured that the stories about me in the pub were not true. I have confirmed that I am rightfully king. Those false stories were part of an effort to get rid of me, but it has failed. As you see, Kara and I are in good health and spirits.”

They enjoyed a leisurely lunch, just the family, as Felanar and Kara explained what had happened over the past couple of months. Lunch finished, they took their parents to meet Pross and Jela, who had figured in their account of their travels.

“Thank you for saving our children from harm,” said Sera as she hugged Jela warmly. Chafrar shook Pross's hands with a firm grip.

The two westerners took to the parents right away. Of all the strangers they had met so far, these were the ones who acted with the same simple and direct manner they felt most comfortable with. Jela in particular took to Sera and asked all kinds of questions about what Felanar was like growing up, and Sera was only too happy to talk about those days. Felanar and Kara watched this scene for a while, and then Felanar interrupted his mother.

“Actually, the time has come to break some news to you, Pross and Jela,” he said seriously in a way that caused the western brother and sister to look expectantly at their friend.

“As you know,” Felanar said, “Kara and I have been in a series of meetings with the elves, and you must be wondering what someone like me is doing with the elves.”

“They are your friends,” said Pross, “we see that now. And you are important to them in some way.”

“Yes,” agreed Felanar, “they are our friends. What I told you about living in Tranith Argan is true, for Kara and I do live there. What I told you about our home is also true, it is big enough to host guests, and both of you are welcome any time you want. But the reason I suggested to you that you would be happier living in Brindledown or the nearby villages is not simply because I think you would not like living in a big city. No, there is a greater reason.

“Pross and Jela, there is a reason the autarch tried to kidnap us, and why we found ourselves in danger, and there is a reason I was able to befriend Slakh and make agreements with him. I've not said anything about this until now because I did not want you to feel uncomfortable around us. What I am about to tell you might risk changing that, but I hope it does not. I want you to remember that I am the same person you befriended.”

Pross and Jela looked very worried now.

Looking at his sister and then his parents, Felanar continued, “I am the king of Tranith Argan. Kara and I are descendants of the royal line of kings of Argan.”

Pross and Jela looked at each other and then began to fall to the floor as Felanar and Kara both reached out and held them up.

“Oh no,” cried Kara as she lifted Jela, “I'm tired of this reaction from everyone who hears this news. Did you not hear what my brother said? We are the same persons we were just a minute ago when you thought of us as your friends. We are still your friends.”

“Only now you have a king and queen for friends, that's all,” said Felanar with a laugh.

The laughter caught Jela by surprise, and it broke the spell. She began laughing too and soon Pross joined in.

“No wonder everyone respects you,” she marveled. “You are a king,” she said softly more to herself than to anyone else.

“Father, mother, will you take them with you when you return to Brindledown and help them get set up in the village?” asked Felanar. “Although they are welcome to visit us in Tranith Argan, as I said, I am sure they would enjoy life in Brindledown more. This is the life they are used to.”

“Of course we will,” agreed Sera. “It would be our pleasure to assist those who saved our children from death. It is the least we could do. They are welcome to stay in your old rooms for as long as they need.”

Jela hugged Sera warmly and it was set.