Amyalla needed nearly two hours to go through Thayvin’s correspondence and put it all back in the proper order. It was time well spent, as she found the letters she sought.

She also found much more than she bargained for.

 Chapter Eighteen

Cloak And Dagger

“Is that all you take us for?” Thayvin Willowsky, the lead ambassador for the elves of the deep Vesve, said. “Expendable fodder? A bulwark meant to take the worst of Iuz’s attacks while you arm yourselves?” he continued, his voice rising to an angry bellow as he stood up.

“Of course not!” one of the leading Furyond Knights said, struggling to keep his temper calm. “It’s just that, as the people who know the Vesve best, you’d be suited to hinder them until-“

“-until we’re slowly strangled,” Thayvin said, his hand now wrapped around the hilt of his dagger. “Do you see, my kin?” he said, turning to several of the other elven delegates from the Vesve. “This is what comes of dealing with humans, especially when they’re consorting with dwarves!”

Several of the dwarven delegates from the Yatils raised their voices in protest, but another voice spoke over them.

“So you would rather stand alone against Iuz?” His Most Excellent Highness Kashafen Tamarel said, shaking his head reproachfully.

Kashafen was the lord of the southwestern Vesve’s high elves, a community distinct from any of the elven realms deeper in the forest. He was surprisingly tall for an elf, and his eyes and ears were strangely shaped, giving him an almost human-looking air. He cut a very distinguished figure in his blue and gray robes of office, framed by the green and gold cloak he wore. His voice was calm and collected, but the way he pursed his lips and drummed his fingers against his arms revealed the tension he was repressing.

“We need allies we can trust,” Thayvin said. “How can we expect these humans to show wisdom on the battlefield when they won’t show it in their personal affairs?”

Kashafen winced, as did Jolene and several of the other human delegates. Thayvin struck on a particularly sensitive issue, that of the scandals among the Knights that were somehow being brought to light.

Amyalla winced too as she watched the assembly devolve into a shouting match. Most of the companions were helping Highfolk prepare its defenses, but Amyalla decided to continue watching the Knights’ meetings. She thought it might be important to know how the negotiations were going, but she was learning far more than she bargained for.

Some of the Knights received letters accusing them of embezzlement, infidelity with each other’s spouses, cruelty towards the lower classes, and other violations of knightly and courtly conduct. The letters claimed that other Knights could validate the accusations. The letters’ recipients turned on their fellow Knights, who heatedly denied the accusations. Several of the offended Knights demanded duels or some other form of satisfaction. Fortunately, Jolene, Kashafen and some of the other more level-headed delegates managed to convince them to defer their demands for satisfaction, at least until the crisis with the Spine Breakers was over.

Amyalla was suspicious at how so many letters could arrive all at the same time. The discussions were already going badly, and the sudden appearance of these letters risked making them break down altogether. Jolene and Kashafen tried to make that same point, but most of the delegates were too angry or distracted to listen to them.

Fortunatelly, Amyalla knew there might be other ways to make the delegates listen.

“I can’t believe such a scandalous accusation,” Amyalla said as she poured out the mead and passed one of the goblets to Sir Glendan Branagh.

“Nor can I, my lady,” Glendan said, his thick moustache twitching to reflect his irritation. “And yet, were it not for the letter, I would never believe a brother in arms could accuse me of such things!”

“A gentleman like yourself, taking untoward liberties with a comrade’s wife? I can certainly see you charming any woman you might fancy, but your honor precludes such actions, obviously,” Amyalla said.

Glendan blushed slightly and puffed out his chest, pleased by Amyalla’s flattery.

“Might I see the letter?” Amyalla asked, blinking rapidly as she clasped her hands in front of her.

Glendan bowed gallantly as he handed her the letter.

“Utterly scandalous, I tell you,” he said, before taking a drink of mead.

Amyalla nodded in agreement, pretending to listen to Glendan’s words.

She read far more than she listened.

“Financial impropriety?” Amyalla said, blinking.

“Indeed,” Viscount Ashton Crossmoor said. He tried to hide his inner turmoil, but Amyalla saw that the issue was a particularly sensitive one for him.

“We halflings have a saying,” Amyalla said, taking Lord Ashton’s larger hand in hers. “Money cannot buy class. Whatever Your Lordship’s financial fortunes, your bearing and demeanor continue to speak for themselves.”

An appreciative smile crossed Lord Ashton’s face, confirming Amyalla’s suspicions. He was deeply offended at the idea that he could be an embezzler or a thief, whatever his current financial straits.  

“How could anyone make such an accusation, anyway?” Amyalla asked.

“By writing a letter, of course,” Lord Ashton said, his appreciative smile being replaced by a bitter half-smirk.

“Might I see it?” Amyalla asked. “I should like to know who’d accuse such a respectable lord of this abhorrent behavior.”

Viscount Ashton gave Amyalla the letter, handing it over to her as if he was holding something rotten or tainted.

Glancing through the letter, Amyalla raised her eyebrows in astonishment.

Viscount Ashton thought she was shocked by the accusations against him, but her surprise came from something else altogether.

“I swear, Lord Thayvin gets more unbearable every time I see him,” Kashafen said to Amyalla later the next day.

“I’d think him a strange choice for an ambassador, Your Highness,” Amyalla said. “Begging Your Highness’s pardon, but I don’t understand the rationale for his king’s choice-“

“Neither do I,” Kashafen said, flushing. “The sylvan elves deeper in the Vesve have always preferred to stand on their own over dealing with humans or even high elves like me, but this is something else entirely. Thayvin was always an insufferable ass, but now it’s like he’s going out of his way to undermine the alliance talks!”

“He hasn’t been like this before now?” Amyalla said.

“He has,” Kashafen said, “but not this badly.”

That was all Amyalla needed to hear. Sir Glendan and Lord Ashton were just two of the various delegates she’d spoken to over the last two days, and Kashafen was the last one.

She’d met with Kashafen on the pretense of wanting to better understand the elves’ perspective in the talks, including the differences between the sylvan and high elves. She was honest when she said that, but she also hoped that Kashafen could confirm the suspicions forming in her mind from her previous conversations.

Now she knew where she needed to go.

Amyalla carried her lockpicks and other thieving tools on her garters as a way to hide them where almost no one would ever think to look. She visited the sylvan elves’ lodge during the delegates’ meeting later that evening, claiming she’d forgotten an important keepsake from when she’d met one of the elven delegates the day before. The guards made her surrender her daggers, but she took her lockpicks right past them. That foresight served her well as she unlocked the door to Thayvin’s apartment.

Entering Thayvin’s apartment, she glanced around for any potential hiding places. The bed was immaculately made, the slight dust on the bookshelves and much of the furniture disturbed only by the cleaner’s rags, and there were no signs of hidden panels or doors on the walls or the floor of the room. Indeed, the only indication that the room even had a guest was the rolltop desk’s chair being out of place. The desk was locked, which was to be expected, since that was where Thayvin kept his correspondence.

Picking the desk’s lock was easy for Amyalla. The hard part, as she realized when she glanced over the many parchments inside the desk, was making sure nothing was disturbed when she left. If Thayvin noticed anything out of place when he returned, he might accuse the Knights or other delegates of anything from spying to treason.

Amyalla needed nearly two hours to go through Thayvin’s correspondence and put it all back in the proper order. It was time well spent, as she found the letters she sought.

She also found much more than she bargained for.

“I apologize, Lord Didimus, but I have to raise a point of order that takes precedence over everything else,” Jolene said at the meeting the next day, Amyalla at her side.

“It’d best be important, then,” the dwarven nobleman said, his ill humor obvious as he sat down and repeatedly stroked his beard.

“It is,” Jolene said, “especially since it proves the attempts to sabotage these meetings.”

Several of the delegates exclaimed in shock, while others demanded proof of Jolene’s words. A few of them even started to accuse each other, but Jolene held up her hand. The delegates immediately fell silent, as the room filled with anxious expectation.

“Many of the letters several of you received were all written with the same quill,” Jolene said, “with the same kind of ink and with the same hand. Some of you who’ve been accused should come and see for yourselves.”

It was a highly unusual breach of the meeting’s protocols, but Jolene was chairing the meeting and the accused delegates were eager to prove their innocence. Several of the Knights stepped forward, bearing the letters they’d received. Jolene showed several of them the letters Amyalla found, and the delegates compared the letters to the ones they’d already received. At first, they muttered to each other in confusion, but soon they raised their voices in anger as they saw that everything Jolene claimed was true.

The hall soon erupted in a clamor. Some of the delegates demanded to know who’d done this, while others accused their fellows of being the saboteurs. Jolene held up her hand, trying to calm the delegates, but they ignored her. She managed to get their attention by shouting out loud, making the hall fall silent.

“We know full well who the saboteur is,” Jolene said, as Amyalla held up a silken bag with floral heraldry designs etched on it.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amyalla watched Thayvin. He’d sat in silence the whole time, gripping the edges of his table so hard his knuckles were white. Amyalla could see the wheels visibly turning behind his eyes as he tried to figure out what to do, but he didn’t dare to speak up. As she hoped, he hadn’t gone through all his correspondence before this meeting. He didn’t realize Amyalla had stolen the letters she found.  

Some of the other sylvan elves weren’t so silent, though.

“You dare accuse Lord Willowsky of treachery?” one of the other elven delegates said, rising to her feet as she walked towards Jolene and the other delegates. “You slander his name based on his thievery-“

“I’m not slandering Lord Willowsky’s name,” Jolene said, her expression perfectly calm. “I’m accusing Hurrarin Westward. I’m sure you’re familiar with him, aren’t you?”

“Hurrarin…what does Hurrarin have to do with this?” the elven delegate said, as her fellows exchanged concerned glances.

“He has plenty to do with this, I think,” Kashfaren said, as he stood up and walked to join Amyalla and Jolene. “The honorable delegates who aren’t elven and aren’t from Highfolk or the Vesve likely don’t know this, but Hurrarin is a traitor who attempted to betray his people to the Horned Society. But you know that, don’t you, Thayvin?” he said, his expression turning into a threatening scowl.

The rest of the sylvan elf delegates stared at Kashfaren, and then at Thayvin, and back at Kashfaren again, torn and uncertain.

“Why else would Thayvin have correspondence between Hurrarin and Ugtharn?” Kashfaren said, holding up the letters Jolene and Amyalla gave to him before the meeting started.

The female elven delegate who’d criticized Jolene was about to say something, but she and the other sylvan elves were startled as Thayvin stood up and threw his chair at several of his fellows. They scrambled to avoid it as Thayvin started to chant the words of a spell, his expression desperate and haunted.

Kashafen’s voice also raised in a chant as he cast a spell of his own. He tried to dispel the transportation spell that Thayvin was using to escape, but Thayvin was faster. Thayvin faded away as the meeting hall erupted into chaos. Kashafen managed to cast a spell to order the hall guards to pursue Thayvin, but it was several long minutes before he and Jolene could calm the delegates down.

Many of the delegates demanded explanations, especially Thayvin’s sylvan elf colleagues. Jolene and Amyalla stood off to the side as Kashafen stepped forward, better able to command the trust of his fellow elves.

“That man was an imposter,” Kashafen said. “If anything, you should have your clerics divine whether Thayvin’s even alive.”

Krystal Brightwater, the elven delegate who’d accused Jolene of slandering Thayvin’s name, exchanged glances with her fellows.

“That’d make sense,” Krystal said. “Thayvin was no mage. But how do you know that was Hurrarin?”

“Because he signed his true name to his correspondence with Ugtharn,” Kashafen said. “His handwriting matches that of all the false letters many of you received.”

Jolene passed the correspondence with Ugtharn to Krystal and her colleagues, who pored over the letters. They handed the letters back silently, their expressions grim.

“A magical disguise,” one of the other sylvan elf delegates said. “It’s the only way Hurrarin could imitate Thayvin. Corellon only knows what happened to His Lordship…”

“You’ll find the truth, I’m sure,” Viscount Ashton said from off to the side, “but I’m more concerned about Ugtharn’s invasion. I understand that this Hurrarin fellow was giving him information about our meetings?”

“Then he knows the conflicts we’ve been having,” another one of the human Knights said.

“To say nothing of the strategies we’ve tried to plan,” one of the dwarven delegates said.

“You both know more all about this,” Kashafen said, turning to Amyalla and Jolene. “Is Ugtharn working for someone like the Horned Society or the Temple of Elemental Evil, or is he acting on his own?”  

Jolene and Amyalla exchanged glances.

“…We’re not sure,” Jolene finally said.

“Well, we need to find out!” Lord Edward Silverhelm said, his twitching moustache reflecting his anxiety.

Glancing at the rest of the delegates, Kashafen saw the worry and dismay many of them felt.

“Would you and your friends be willing to find out if anyone is backing the Spine Breakers?” Kashafen said to Amyalla. “You’ve already done so much for us, and I regret asking you again, but all of Highfolk is in danger...”

Kashafen tried to seem calm, but Amyalla saw his desperation. Glancing around the meeting hall, she saw how many of the other Knights and delegates felt the same way.

Her friends weren’t there, but she knew she spoke for them when she gave her answer.

“We’ll leave within the hour.”