At Dawn's Light

Chapter 12: A Simple Resolution

At first, Rowan was startled because she had no idea her uncle knew her birth name. Then, Rowan slowly watched eight tired, armoured men kneel before her.

“Get the Queen's ring from the dresser with the mirror. The ring is now Rowan's."

Rowan numbly accepted General Tarik taking her hand and pushing a large ring onto her finger.

As the small assembly began to leave the room, Rowan took a look at her uncle who had fallen asleep once more. Turning back, she realized General Tarik still stood in the room. He silently gestured to the hall.

“Your Highness," he began. “We have a problem."

Rowan looked at him, “What is the problem?"

Lea came around the corner, and Rowan interrupted her conversation to Tarik to mouth, “Make more oil."

Lea disappeared once more.

“Your Highness," Tarik began again, his tone tired and sharp.

“Yes, yes. What is the problem?"

He put on his patient face, “Elves are in the Great Hall, demanding to be seen."

Rowan stood bewildered, “What...what do you want me to do?"

“You, your Highness, need to hold court as your uncle is unwell."

Never had Rowan wished for the company of her handmaiden more. Sensing her fear, the general took a breath and gave a small smile.

“I'll be with you, Your Highness."

With a nod, Rowan straightened her dress, pushed the hairpiece into her braid, and followed the towering general down the corridor, down the stairs, and into the Great Hall and her future.

'Of all the bad luck under the heavens,' though Rowan as she recognized “blue-quiver" from the incident at the forge, among the Elven party. A small band of Tarik's soldiers arrived and took their place at the side of the room. Glares were passed around freely.

Tarik expertly guided her to the throne at the end of the hall, and she quietly sat down.

Almost instantly there was a barrage of angry accusations as the Elves tried to speak and the Humans retaliated.

Rowan felt fear rising in her chest. She saw General Tarik's glance in her direction. He tilted his head in the direction of the chaos. Continuing to look at him for guidance, Tarik made a slicing motion with his hand.

“Enough!" She bellowed, surprising herself with the volume and steadiness of her voice. The general gave a barely noticeable acknowledgment approving her action.

“We are civilized here," she chided the group before her. “Everyone will have the chance to speak."

Then she pointed at the Elves, who began the story. The elves nodded to blue-quiver.

"You speak, Elyrian."

Elyrian, with the blue -quiver stepped forward, "A few days ago, an Elven patrol noticed a band of armed humans on our side of the river. When we approached, they instantly became aggressive and seriously wounded one of our party."

He glared at the human group, who burst out in denials at the claim. The Elf spokesman, hurled an insult at the other group.

General Tarik gave a slight cough causing Rowan to sit up and look at him. He dramatically rolled his eyes to the two groups.

"Stop being children," she blurted in broken Elvish.

Tarik rubbed his chin groaned quietly.

The Elves stopped immediately, and slowly

Elyrian continued, "This began a skirmish that escalated into a battle that involved the Elven and Human army."

'That's where Elduine and my uncle went,' Rowan hid her sense of horror, know two people she cared about were fighting on opposite sides.

A human soldier stepped forward, “They lie! Our patrols don't cross the river, it's been like that for decades!"

“We know what humans look like," argued Elyrian.

“We did not attack you! We only advanced after we were made aware of the incident!"

“Now, who lies!" The Elf with the scar sneered

“You have the experience of centuries of lies!"

“Humans, the example of greed and lies!"

“Enough," Rowan gave the first command in human tongue. “Enough," the second command she gave was in Elvish. Rowan would have to thank Lea for teaching her that later.

The room went silent. Elyrian stepped forward, hand on heart.

“Your Highness, my king has requested the presence of your King to discuss this matter in more detail. We are not fools. If your men insist it was not them, we need to make sure we are not blaming in error."

The humans rolled their eyes and made comments under their breath. General Tarik growled, and Rowan took that as her cue.

“Silence!"

The humans continued to glare but stopped talking.

“This is my Uncle's hall, and now mine," she spoke to the group of men. “If you disrespect me again, I will have your general deal with you."

Looking at General Tarik, who slyly winked, Rowan sat quietly in thought.

“The King is unwell right now," she twisted the ring on her finger. “Can you give us a few days so he can regain his strength?"

The Elf with the blue quiver paused, then nodded, “Send a raven when he is well enough to travel."

“I will see to it, myself. We will come to Eliseandril and meet with your King," Rowan agreed. “We will find out what is going on. You have my word."

With that, the Elves bowed their heads and covered their hearts. They then turned as one and left the hall.

The General gave her an encouraging smile, "Well done, my lady."

“I'm going to check on my uncle," Rowan breathed.

“Let's hope he recovers, your Highness," Tarik said.

Rowan chose not to answer.

It took three more days of sleep, water, wild thyme oil, and Rowan's scrutiny, before King Gregan's fever broke. Weak, but still very much King, he demanded Rowan report on the Elves' visit.

She came to King Gregan when he was awake later in the afternoon, and after he endured several applications of Lea's wild thyme oil. Rowan told her uncle every detail about what happened during the Elven visit.

"They came here...and demanded a meeting," Gregan spat. "They demanded from you, my heir...and you said yes?"

"But my King," General Tarik quickly interjected. "Lady Rowan won the Elves trust with her skill of Elven language."

"You know Elvish?" The King asked, quietly impressed. "Perhaps the fever is playing with my mind. Well done, Rowan."

“It made sense to accept their invitation," Rowan raised her shoulders to shrug. “They came all the way here, they must want to stop fighting as much as we do."

Her uncle nodded and sat deathly quiet for a few moments. Finally, Gregan looked at the vile of oil next to him, and then to Rowan's worried face.

“Well," said Gregan gruffly, slowing sitting up on his own. “You gave them your word, Rowan. It looks like we have no choice but to go to Eliseandril."