Moonsword - Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Tolian had declared that she needed some rest, and dismissed the High Council until morning. Then she would announce who the members of her party would be.  She found her chambers to be unoccupied.  She had been both disappointed and relieved that Brythia was not there.  She desperately needed her support, but weariness had taken her and she needed her rest.  She slept soundly and long.  She managed to drift away from everything that she had woken up to in the morning.  She forgot her troubles in the cradle of slumber.

She was awakened by a young druidess, who fearfully called her from her sleep, “Excuse me, Lady..., I mean, Champion.  Magara thought you would like to be awakened.”

Tolian rolled over and groaned, “Magara seems to have a lot of ideas about what I would like, most of which are wrong.”

But she did get up.  She dismissed the young girl.  Tolian availed herself of the wash basin filled with clean water which the girl had set on the table.  She washed herself thoroughly and carefully as Brythia had made a big deal about women having to be particularly careful about their hygiene.  She attempted not to pay any attention to the pleasurable feelings she experienced as she cleaned herself.  She was determined to resist any feelings of comfort or acceptance of her new gender.  For the most part that wasn’t too difficult, as she couldn’t escape the feeling that she had been castrated.  She realized she had no time to feel sorry for herself, that, indeed, there was much to be done.  Her closets had been filled with  all sorts of female clothing, but she again selected, the purple tunic and leggings, as she was at least somewhat comfortable in them.

Her breakfast was brought up to her as she finished dressing.  She devoured it hungrily, then instructed her attendant to advise the High Council to gather in the Council Chamber.  She then proceeded to join them there.

Her mind was clear as she entered the Chamber.  She had, during the course of the night, dreamt of those best suited to accompany her on the quest.

Magara bowed as she saw Tolian, the others followed her example.  Tolian was, of course, used to such treatment.

“Good Morning,” Tolian said.

Various awkward greetings came back at her, as most of the people, there assembled, addressed her as Lady Champion before they remembered that she didn’t particularly like the designation.

Findelbres came barging into the chamber, “Sorry, I’m late,” he said, “but for some reason, no one advised me of the meeting.”

Tolian felt more in control of herself this morning, “Apologies, Findelbres.  We appreciate your council though I have already made my determination as to the members of my party.”

Magara and the rest of the High Council seemed surprised by this announcement.  Tolian was glad to be making decisions.  She had no intention of being Magara’s puppet.  They had made her their Champion, now they were going to learn what that meant.

“I propose,” Tolian began, “that a small contingency travel with me, thereby helping to secure our secrecy and mobility.”

She knew several of her decisions had to be made by political necessity.  She was no stranger to court politics, and so she had no difficulty in seeing the correct choices.

“Among those of the Druidic Order, I shall take Kalabred, Brythia, and Kilfrie.”  She knew that in order to insure full backing of the hitherto ignored male druids, it was vital to select their greatest member, besides Tolian was certain that his assistance would be quite valuable.  Brythia was extremely capable, and Tolian simply could not exist without her.  Her heart would not let her.  And Tolian had established a great deal of respect for Kilfrie, and her special ability.  It could serve her well.

“I would, of course,” she continued.  “Welcome our friend of the Faerie Kingdom, to travel with us.”

Tolian knew only legends regarding Findelbres’s people, but if only a fraction of what she had heard was true, he would make a useful companion.

There was one other person she had determined would go with her, though she was in rather a state of indecision about it.  She could think of no better fighter, nor any, in the world that would be more loyal.

“I shall also take my countryman, Delorick,” she said.

This once again sparked a look of shocked surprise from Magara.

“We shall leave as soon as the necessary preparations are made.  How quickly can such an expedition be arranged?”  Tolian asked Kalabred.

Kalabred seemed quite eager, “In just a few hours, My Lady.”

Tolian gave him a quick look of displeasure.

“Sorry,” said Kalabred, understanding the silent admonishment.

Tolian addressed Magara, “Please have those persons meet me here in two hours.  Oh, and please instruct my friend, Delorick, that he is not to address me or even speak to me, unless I first so allow him.”

Magara bowed, “As you wish, Champion.  I have, as it were, a suggestion which I believe possesses some merit that I would like to further suggest to you.”

“Of course, Magara”

“I recommend that you take Myrthis with you.”

“Why, Myrthis?  Do you think it wise that she should undertake such a perilous journey in her condition?”

“I was going to suggest that you take her as far as Lorm, which you must pass on your way to Therasia.  You could, therefore, present her as bearing your heir to your people.”

It was as if Tolian had been knocked down by a tremendous force.  She was speechless.

“If you do not present her, with Delorick to back your claims of authority, how can you expect the line of Hemris to continue?  If you die on your mission, no one will believe that Myrthis carries your heir inside her.  You must vouch for her.  Else the House of Hemris shall be no more.”

Tolian had steeled herself to face Delorick, but this was asking too much.  There was no way that she was going to let her father see her like this.  No way.  But Magara did have a point.  How else would the child be accepted as a genuine heir?   Then the answer came to Tolian:  when they reached Lorm, she would send Delorick, with a letter of authority, and Myrthis to her father.  That would certainly be sufficient.

“Very well,” Tolian said, as if in a trance.

“Let the preparations commence.”

Magara and Kalabred left at once to attend to the arrangements for the expedition.  Provisions were gathered, the faerie horses were fitted with saddles and bridles (which they did not think too well of).  Maps and weapons were stowed for the journey.   All manner of preparations were made.  A bustle of energy and excitement pervaded the Druidic Temple City of Hyge Bryth, as nearly every druid and druidess had some hand in the quartering of the expedition.  This helped, Tolian was told, to bring the full force of the druidic order into united action within the group.  Even those with only the tiniest of chores, remotely connected to the questing party, lent a magickal link of unity.

Tolian was surprised to find that Brythia had had her old clothing and armor repaired and adapted to her new curves.  It felt really good to wear them; as Brythia had worked with extremely good taste in making adjustments that did not, well, show too much.  Still, Tolian had to admit to herself (and Brythia) that she looked ravishing in the gear.  This, of course, annoyed her to no end.  In addition to her old battle outfit, she wore the purple cloak which signified her position as Champion, and an article of feminine clothing that Tolian liked: A brassiere.  It kept her “damned breasts from bouncing all over the place”, as she exclaimed to Brythia.

Tolian had commanded that each member of the party should come out one at a time and form a line.  This was primarily to insure that Tolian didn’t have to see Delorick until they were on their way.  It was probably a childish motivation, but Tolian knew that would be the only way she could handle the inevitable encounter.  Magara, however, thought that it had a nice ritual touch to it and the High Druidess formally endorsed the idea.  Tolian had a feeling that Magara knew what she was up to, and for the first time, Tolian felt a tiny bit of gratitude towards her.  That sentiment disappeared, when Tolian was reminded of what Magara had done to her, by the lustful stare of one of the nearby druids.  Tolian almost vomited right there.

She held herself proudly as she made her way down the portcullis towards the main gate of the Temple.  The whole of the Order (or most of them, in any case) were gathered about the Temple buildings and grounds.  They let out a tremendous cheer, as Tolian emerged from the shadows of the Temple.  She was caught up in their energy.  They truly believed that she was going to go out and save the World.  She was raised by a huge wave of positive energy.  She smiled and lifted her arms in appreciation.  She would try to do her best.  At that moment she had no other thoughts but that she would succeed or die trying.

Her faerie steed was brought out to her, already loaded with her supplies and gear.  It was a marvelous beast, having the same, otherworldly quality that Findelbres possessed.  A vague feeling.  Its appearance almost seemed more a remembrance of a dream than a physical reality.  It shone the most radiant of white, and was the finest horse of the Faerie Royal Stables, named something quite unpronounceable in the Faerie tongue, but Findelbres assured Tolian that the mare (as she so was) would respond as well to the translation, Whisper.  The Queen of Faerie had, herself, selected this steed for Tolian.

Tolian mounted easily, the horse was wonderfully steady and well behaved.  Tolian immediately discovered that there were a few noticeable advantages and disadvantages to being a female rider as opposed to a male.  But, it felt damn good to be on the back of a sturdy horse.

She rode up to where Magara waited at the huge Gate to the complex.  The High Priestess looked much older than when Tolian had first met her.  She looked calm and ready, but Tolian could perceive that something was troubling her.

“What vexes you, Magara?” Tolian asked.

“Am I so plain as that?”

“Aye, you are.”

“Well, first I must, of course, bid you a safe journey, and assure you that we shall do our best here to lend you assistance from afar.  You know that you can communicate to us through any of the three of our order that you are taking.”

“Yes, I realize that”, Tolian replied.  “Now, we have little time, what is wrong?”

“I fear, Tolian, that in the interest of efficiency I have betrayed my holiest of vows,” Magara said, her voice choking up with emotion.  “Though I have acted in accordance with the Druidic plan as it was lain out two hundred years ago.  Still, it troubles me, as deeply as anything ever has.”

Tolian could tell that this was important, she checked her natural impatience.

“You must know, it pained me terribly to work the spell, she was like a daughter to me,” Magara continued.  “But we had to be certain that you would cooperate.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I did something which druidic law considers a serious crime, the use of magickal power against a person’s free-will.  I cast a spell upon you and Brythia, that you would fall deeply and eternally in love.  There was no other way to be sure.”

Magara’s confession shocked Tolian.  She stared numbly at the High Druidess.  A love spell?  They had manipulated her through use of magickal fascination.  They had used her and Brythia both.  She could say nothing.  She turned and headed through the vast gate of Hyge Bryth.

She was turned inside out my Magara’s words, yet there was nothing she could do about it.  Her head was spinning.  She was off to save the World.



Copyright 2002, 2015 Diana Hignutt
 

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