072 – Aftermath Of One Meeting, Start Of Another

The other assembled elves stood, and several of them filed out. Steven, Roxanne, and Caspian also stood.

Sharlot, Cuinton, and Mallob all came around the table and approached.

Cuinton was an older male elf, slightly stooped in age, his face full of laugh lines and crows feet, and with the airs of one perpetually discovering delights in new things. Mallob, also an older male, had the airs of an academic more at home in a pile of books than among people; he looked to still be barely containing his mirth. Sharlot was shorter than both of them.

Sharlot spoke first, watching the door close behind Pervical. “Thank you, Steven. By standing up to Pervical, you may have just put him into required agreement with the rest of us.”

Steven inclined his head. “You are welcome. So what actually happens now? Rox comes back later this afternoon. What about myself, and Caspian?”

Cuinton answered this. “First, I need to get that list, and compare it to what we know of Krogg, and make the best decision we can. My agent has told me that you are acceptable, if locally unorthodox in your use of a sword. If it is alright, we will look in that direction for you. As for other equipment, I have to ask around a bit to see who is willing to help and available. That will take a day or two, which is about all the time we have. Then I will send word and you will be able to get whatever you want or need done. Do know this; it is observed that you travel light: if that is your preference, than by all means do not let us over encumber you with useless toys.”

Mallob took the conversation. “Young human, where did you learn that epitaph?”

Steven had to think a moment. “Humber Shroober? I think I got it from Roxanne’s grandmother, Merilyn. Why do you ask?”

Mallob chuckled. “Because I have not heard it in ages. I think it was in this room when your progenitor, Rodira, stormed out, young lady. She called Pervical that after he refused to allow her to marry her human lover.”

Sharlot laughed some and Cuinton guffawed.

Mallob continued. “Come to think of it, about half of the council was here then. As they argued Pervical was trying to assert his right as the father of her betrothed, and she would not have any of it. She had already refused to be in the same room as her betrothed.”

Sharlot finished the story. “She had anticipated something like what happened. She stormed out of here, picked up a bag of what she was taking with, and left the city. Pervical tried to follow. She teleported right out of his sight, and never came back. I saw her twice after that. Once at her wedding, and once at the ring when she and her paramour left the planet. She altered her appearance to that of a human shortly after leaving here. Pervical tried to collect any trace to use to follow her, but she had destroyed nearly all of it before she left.”

Caspian spoke for the first time since entering the room. “Then how did you make the trackers given to me?”

Sharlot smiled. “I said nearly all. I had a lock of hair. Rodira made me swear not to give it to our parents. I never told anyone I had it, until it was determined that you needed to be found, Roxanne.”

Roxanne had spent the whole time looking between Sharlot and Cuinton. At the mention of her name she rejoined the conversation. “You two look similar. How are you related?”

Cuinton’s eyes sparkled as he spoke. “I am her uncle. A word of advice: Do not bother seeking out my brother or his wife. They make Pervical look hospitably agreeable.”

Steven wanted to have the unfinished story finished. “What happened to the betrothed, Pervical’s son?”

The three elves looked at anything else, poker faced.

Steven provoked them. “Well?”

Faxeld, who had walked up behind Cuinton, dryly answered the question. “He was mated to my cousin, whom he had already impregnated. Pervical sent them out of the city in shame. They live on the far side of the continent, happy to be away from the meddling of their respective families, at last report.”

Caspian broke out laughing, and had to lean on his staff for balance.

The scandalized elves turned to Faxeld, who stood shorter than the other elves, only a head and little taller than Steven, and carried a large ledger book. He also wore spectacles, for reading, on the tip of his nose.

“Master Cuinton, I would like a moment of your time, before you return to your office.” Faxeld then strode off.

The meeting dismissed, they left to their duties. Steven and Roxanne gathered up the still chuckling Caspian, and went to find lunch.

The new elfin dress fit better than anything Roxanne had ever owned before in her life. It flowed and conformed to her body as if it were liquid poured over her rather than being cloth and it shimmered like liquid. The various blues in the dress accented and complimented her looks orders of magnitude better than the morning’s motley. Steven was speechless when she showed him. The tailors thought it tasteless, but after appealing to their dislike of Clan Leader Pervical, they relented. After having her hair tended to and a light bit of make-up applied, Rox then went to the afternoon clan meeting as she had been bidden.

She found a carriage waiting outside the hotel. This took her to the Clan offices. The elfin word escaped her, but it translated to something close to office. A young elf female just a little taller than she was greeted Rox, as she lighted from the carriage. Were it a car, Roxanne would have just gotten out, but one does not just ‘get out’ of a carriage.

The female elf led her into the building, through a mezzanine, and to the doors leading to Councilor Sharlot’s office. Two guards stood by the hallway doors staring at the far wall, but seeing everything in front of them. Their red motley dress clashed with her blue, but that was not her worry. The young elf left her there, saying for her to stay here until called for, and disappeared.

Roxanne stood there for close to half an hour, before the doors were opened from the inside. She was about to go inside when one of the guards blocked the way with his pole arm. So she stood back and waited. The pole arm retracted. Some functionaries filed out of the room, and scattered down the halls. She was then announced. She took a hesitant step, but no pole arm blocked her path. So she put on her best confidence and strode in to the room. Rox thought she made a good unpretentious entrance.

“So, this is our ‘lost daughter’.”

Rox did not recognize the male voice, but did not like the attitude she heard in it. She stepped forward into a conference room, dominated by a table in the middle, with chairs along either side. Eight elves, both male and female, were seated on either side looking like players ready to enter a scrum, with Rox as the ball. Each senior elf had a junior Assistant who had a folio open before them, with a pen, inkwell, and blotter nearby. A clerk sat off the far end of the table, taking notes, and appeared to be otherwise not involved.

‘These are the friendly ones,’ though Rox. There was not a chair at the end, so she stood at it, looking around. The size difference was enough that she felt like a child looking up at a table of adults. There was a stand at the end of the table, which Rox stepped up onto. Sharlot sat at the far end, on Rox’s left, then her assistant, a younger male; then Faxeld with his books on the table before him, and his clerk, she sat at Rox’s immediate left, and looked as pinched and stone-faced as Sharlot was open. On her immediate right was another male assistant, then Rasgan with a notebook that he scribbled in with a pencil, Mallob sat to his right with another female assistant sitting opposite Sharlot.

Sharlot evidently chaired the meeting, and started in. “Thank you for coming Roxanne. You look nice, the color is very flattering. Now then, Rasgan, you have been scribbling on your schedule since lunch. What have you come to?”

Rasgan did not look up, but spoke as he sorted his writing. “Well, of the four available tutors, only one is willing to have anything to do with ‘an unlearned half-breed’.”

They spoke in the elf-local language, which Rox could still hear and comprehend clearly, but was having increasing trouble articulating smoothly. Rox had a brief epiphany, as she heard a word that caught her attention. Her court discipline held her in check, but now she knew where ‘schwaer’ possibly came from. It was the derisive elf-language word for ‘half-breed’ with related meanings drawn from ‘excrement.’

Rasgan continued. “I have been arranging Master Iver’s schedule, after consulting with all involved, to send his normal students to the other instructors, allowing Master Iver to give as much time as necessary to Roxanne. He will have time tomorrow morning to evaluate Roxanne’s skill and ability level. From there he can better set up what training he will need to provide.”

Rasgan looked up from his scribbling, and at Roxanne. “Is that acceptable, young one?”

For a moment, Rox was going to take offense at ‘young one,’ then remembered that Rasgan was probably an order of magnitude older than herself, and by his look, the oldest at the table.

Setting her pride aside, Rox nodded. “Yes, sir. I will meet with Master Iver tomorrow morning. Is there any preparation for this?”

Rasgan turned back to his notebook, as his clerk seated between himself and Rox started scratching at his book.

“No. I will send a coach that will take you to Master Iver’s. Dress comfortably, as you would for your daily activities. Not in this formal . . . stuff.”

Sharlot moved things along. “Very good. We will be partially at Master Iver’s whims. Moving along. Since Master Cuinton could not join us, I expect you are delegated his information, Master Mallob?”

Mallob looked slightly board. “Yes, madam-chair. Master Cuinton is arranging for each of the Caplan’s to be taken to appropriate outfitters. So as not to overtax any one shop, Roxanne is to be taken to Master Eklund, and Steven to Master Mundrl.”

Rox noticed that Faxeld looked very interested in this.

Mallob continued. “The masters have already been informed, and are willing to help. Roxanne can walk to Master Eklund’s after Master Iver is done with her tomorrow, as their establishments are in proximity. Steven is being sent on a task tomorrow, and upon his completion and return will then be taken to Master Mundrl. It is expected that final equipment and materials will be determined by the masters in working directly with the Caplan’s.”

Faxeld spoke up at this point.

“The masters have been told that they are to operate on an open account, but to be circumspect in what costs they accrue. Pervical and several of the others are already complaining about the costs of this.”

He let this float above the table for a moment.