Mendices’ jaw fell open, his face limp with awe. He sank to one knee before the Scholar King. “Majesty…” That single word was all he could manage. The Warlord’s head bowed low, and he drew his short sword to lay it on the floor at Lyrilan’s feet.
“How did you come to Uurz so swiftly?” asked D’zan, releasing Lyrilan from his embrace. Lyrilan did not laugh, though his eyes gleamed with warmth. He seemed to hardly notice the kneeling Mendices.
“You must have left Yaskatha well before Tyro…” D’zan stopped himself.
“My brother, the Emperor of Uurz, is dead,” said Lyrilan. His eyes looked past Mendices at the faces gathered about the table. “I come to claim my father’s throne. And to stand with you all against the enemies of my city.”
“It was you,” said Khama, his eyes burning. “This man pulled me from the grip of Zyung’s dogs. His magic brought me to Uurz, where I could be healed. I owe him my life.”
“As do I,” said Vireon. Someone, probably Iardu or Sharadza, had told him of the stranger’s appearance in the valley. Dahrima had not known the Scholar King of Uurz was a sorcerer. Yet he must wield great power to quell Zyung in such a way, even for a moment. Her sisters had told her that the spell of iron did not last long, and that after the God-King broke it he had allowed the retreat instead of smashing it. Dahrima knew well that she and Vireon would surely be dead if not for Lyrilan’s intervention. He might have saved them all with his secret sorcery.
Iardu and Sharadza rose from their chairs to greet Lyrilan.
“They tell me you sent Zyung to iron,” said Iardu.
“Only for a moment,” said Lyrilan.
Iardu gazed into his eyes, as if inspecting the light reflected there. “Exile has taught you much,” said the Shaper. “How on earth did you manage such a feat?”
“Names confer power,” said Lyrilan. “I know the true name of Zyung, and the true names of all the Old Breed. Including yours, Iardu. Yet I promise not to send you to iron. Or salt.”
Iardu smiled. Another laugh escaped D’zan’s lips as he poured a cup of wine for his friend. Sharadza embraced Lyrilan. Dahrima saw that the two of them were also old friends.
“Rise, Mendices,” said Lyrilan, acknowledging the Warlord’s presence at last. “Fetch me the crown that Tyro wore.”
“At once, my King,” said Mendices.
Emperor,” Lyrilan corrected him. “There is no time for ceremony. I will assume my duties and my throne this night. As soon as this council of war is done.”
Mendices grabbed Lyrilan’s hand and kissed his rings awkwardly. “The Gods have blessed us with your speedy return. I live only to serve your will.”
Lyrilan said nothing to this. Mendices rushed from the room to find the crown for him.
“Please, sit,” said Lyrilan. He took the chair of Mendices.
“I have many questions for you,” said Iardu. “Yet I must ask first: How did you learn the forgotten names of the Old Breed? There is no one alive who retains this knowledge. Even we ourselves have forgotten them.”
“One can find even the most esoteric knowledge if one knows which books to read,” said Lyrilan. He accepted the cup of wine from D’zan. “I have always been a lover of books. If my brother were here, he would tell you that.”
Iardu introduced Vaazhia and Dahrima. Lyrilan greeted them with princely politeness. He shared familiar embraces with Vireon and Alua as well.
The lizardess stared at Lyrilan with interest, her ruby eyes shining. “You are the heir of Imvek the Silent,” she said. Her lips formed a flirtatious grin. “I knew him well.”
“And you, Great Lady,” said Lyrilan, “are as perceptive as you are lovely.” He raised the cup and drank deeply from it. All those about the table joined D’zan in a toast to Lyrilan’s return, and another to his impending coronation as Emperor.
Soon Mendices returned bearing a golden crown set with three great emeralds. A coterie of astonished courtiers and captains followed at his heels. They peered into the chamber and hailed the name of Lyrilan. The Son of Dairon ignored them all as Sharadza placed the crown on his head.
“Mendices, you shall retain your position as Warlord of Uurz until Lord Undroth arrives from Yaskatha,” said Lyrilan. “At such time the office will belong to him.” Mendices frowned, but nodded his acknowledgment. Dahrima could see that there was bad blood between these two. She did not understand the politics of Men, nor did she care to learn about it. Lyrilan ordered the doors of the council chamber closed, restoring the room to silence.