Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #15 June 2015 | Page 66
“It comes then?”
“Matters of state.” Teilo said, with a laugh.
“Yes, as the seasons dictate. But you are troubled, My
Love?” Elise tilted her head and shaded her eyes to
better see Teilo’s face.
Elise came up to his waist. Teilo was a tall man, but
not excessively so. Elise was “elf-touched,” according
to popular rumour, some four foot high, short, but not
stunted. Teilo wore hard leather armour and had his
hair warrior short.
“Matters of state?” Elise asked, her eyes narrowed and
her voice was clipped. Teilo spotted that she wasn’t in
a joking mood. He put both hands up.
“Yes. I was talking to Ceowulf,” Teilo said.
“Come Love, let’s not be down at heart. You have your
competition to prepare for. I must return to Cahal’s
side. He may awake and make the succession clear. I
will come to the singing later, if I can.”
“And what did the youngest son of the Righ have to
say for himself?” She asked.
“He’s going to try and join the Wolf Brethren apparently” Teilo said wincing as he lowered himself to the
floor. Elise couldn’t help but look at his withered leg,
ritually maimed in his investment ceremony.
The two lovers embraced and got slowly to their feet,
Elise helping Teilo up. They embraced again, kissed
briefly and walked off in different directions.
“And why would he tell the Summer King such tidings?” She asked.
Teilo wore a silly smile, one side of his mouth turned
up. “He wanted my advice,” he said. “With a lady,”
he added. He threw his hands up in mock defence as
Elise slapped his shoulder.
“You oaf!” she said.
“No-one could take my heart away from you,” he said.
“You are the sun, the moon and—”
“For sure!” Teilo’s smile wavered. “I hear that Phelan
has arrived?”
“With a bard and a warrior, yes.” Elise replied.
“Do you think he’ll make it to Fouryear?” Elise asked,
putting into words the fear they both have felt for
months. Teilo shrugged.
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, each thinking their own thoughts. Teilo clapped his hands.
Elise shook her auburn hair and huffed. She sat and
patted the ground for Teilo to sit next to her.
“Yes, yes, why don’t you leave the poetry to me? I am
Laureate after all.” Elise interrupted.
“Ever since Rufus died the Lands have felt unsettled. Now with Cahal… ” Teilo trailed off, and Elise
squeezed his good leg.
***
Phelan stalked across Cahal’s Holding like a hunting
heron. He had woken at dawn. It was now mid-day,
and he was still being given the run around by the
house staff. He knew that Cahal was sick. Everyone
knew Cahal was sick, and his sons were building war
bands whilst jockeying for political legitimacy. Phelan
had what was, ostensibly, an easy job. To invite the
Righ and his court to the Fouryear celebrations. However with Cahal insensible who was the Righ? The
Laureate was nowhere to be found, preparing for a
bardic competition; the Champion was no use, Phelan
surprising him on the training ground. But Slone said that the Magister had taken control. But Weylyn was nowhere to be
found.
The fourth member of the court, the Heirophant,
Phelan’s direct equivalent, one of the Four great
druids, was somewhere in the One. Phelan had sent a
few birds as messengers to Kelly