Chapter 15 (Harbor a devil)

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Breakfast began well. The lake trout with mushrooms was delicious. Along with the fresh bread and hot coffee, I felt ready for the day. My goal was to leave Bastian as soon as possible—the day after next at the latest—meaning we would need to get several things sorted today. Extending our stay would only put my companions and me at further risk and make us late for the Order's promotion ceremony.

I sat next to Lorna at the far end of a rather long table, easily suitable for twenty but only seating seven this morning. My guards ate at a small side table nearby. Hicks and Gunner seemed to be all in when it came to Yseria Warric. The dark elf kept her expression entirely neutral and said little to the two young men. She wasn't that much old than us, though with elves one could never tell.

Sitting next to Lorna was her older sister Tamira and then King Janis Ylamil himself. The King was a frail-looking fellow with gray eyes and white hair. I was told that dark elves aged much slower than humans, often living as old as two hundred years or more, but I hadn't a guess as to his real age. He had outlived three different wives over the years. They had all succumbed during childbirth. Raven's human mother had been considered a royal consort rather than his wife or queen.

Across from King Ylamil was one of the King's sons, Jhute, and his wife, Phaedra. On the far side of the King was Khamros, High Shaman of Bastian and Chief Counselor to the King. He was also the King's younger brother by several decades. Khamros looked middle-aged to me and seemed to hold as much power as the king in the family circle.

I was the odd man out here. The family's conversation flowed quietly past as if I weren't there. Lorna had already filled me in on the perceptiveness of the King and the dark elves in general. My presence had its own meaning, and most of had been discerned the moment we sat down to eat.

Nearing the end of the meal, Lorna stood up and formally introduced me as a demon-hunter from the Order of the Vigil in the Kingdom of Colivar. The mention of the word demon seemed a terrific conversation starter and diverted attention away from other more sensitive topics like the fact that I sat at the Royal Family table.

"Young man, what brings you north to our city?" said King Ylamil. "It has been decades since I've met with a Colivarian delegation."

"I'm here to help with your demon problem," I offered. "And maybe do some trading."

Khamros interjected, "It is the duty of the Houses and the Brethren of the Shamanic Order to protect the city of Bastian from the demons that plague us. You may find that I am a bit curious as to how someone so young as yourself could possibly help."

I looked to Lorna, biting back my first answer.

"With Ara's assistance, we estimate that twenty demons were destroyed yesterday on the southern edge of the valley," she said. "Without any losses on our side."

Khamros continued the interrogation, "And how many demons have you killed, Ara?"

"Ten," I replied. "But I haven't been at it all that long, and I was gravely wounded for much of the time." I showed off my left arm's leather brace.

"Forgive me if that doesn't fill me with great confidence," Khamros chuckled in retort. "We've got hundreds of the fiends keeping us company."

"You also mentioned trading," said the King, keeping to the point of my visit.

"I'm here to do some trading that I hope is beneficial to us all," I said as I pulled out the silver talisman from under my shirt. "One weapon for another."

Khamros' eyes narrowed at the sight of it, and then he looked at the King. "Who gave him that, Sire?"

Ylamil answered without hesitation, "I did. Now, are you going to listen to what he has to offer?"

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