Artheris steeled herself for the trial ahead. She sat on a throne of pale stone. It stood on a raised dais of polished marble. Before her, the glittering reception chamber of the embassy stretched away. On either side of her, slender columns rose high towards the soaring curve of the roof. The weak sun was filtered through stained glass windows which threw light of many hues across the smooth floor. Incense burned gently in raised bronze bowls, blocking out the worst of the stench from the human city around the elven quarter.
Dozens of officials stood below her, murmuring in low voices. The ambassador was amongst them, his face grave. The assassination attempt had broken the fragile air of amity between the races. Poisonous sentiments had been uttered, and many of the young nobles who had come over with the advance force were openly furious. The surviving Swordmasters were tearing throughout the city in defiance of the terms of the alliance, hunting down any trace of druchii. Their pride had been wounded, and a dangerous spirit of revenge had instilled itself into the whole contingent.
Artheris’s thoughts were broken by a great gong sounding outside the reception chamber. The tall wooden doors at the far end of the hall opened, and the Imperial delegation strode in. The ubiquitous Gerhard was there, but did not lead the party. A tall man wearing heavy armour headed them. Behind him, soldiers of the Reiksguard marched in step. The few officials amongst the group looked cowed and subordinate.
The elves soundlessly withdrew to let the humans approach the dais. As they came, Artheris felt a pang of pain from her wound. It would heal, but the darts of the druchii were always laced with poison. The worst of it had been drawn by the skilled physicians of the embassy, and her own arts countered what remained. She wondered whether it would be as easy to take the bile out of this situation.
The leader approached her, and bowed low. He was a huge man, nearly as tall as an elf and far broader. His face was tanned and heavily scarred, and he wore his heavy armour as if it weighed no more than matchwood.
Good, thought Artheris to herself. A warrior. I’ve had enough of all these officials.
He raised his face, and fixed the archmage with a direct stare.
‘My lady archmage,’ he said. ‘I am Kurt Helborg, Grand Marshal of the Knights of the Reiksguard. I am the right-hand of the Emperor in these matters. He has charged me with conveying his deep regret over what happened. Those responsible have been severely punished.’
He let his gaze slip briefly towards Gerhard, who shifted uncomfortably, before continuing.
‘Let me assure you I have now personally taken control of your safety while you remain in Altdorf. We have no higher priority. A full detachment of my finest Reiksguard have been taken from their duties to bolster your defence.’
Artheris looked down on the grim-faced warrior serenely. He was obviously a proud man, and needed to be handled carefully.
‘Grand Marshal,’ she said, her voice smooth. ‘Your concern is appreciated, as is your offer of help. What happened was unfortunate. Some of our number are dead, as are many of your troops. But such is war. We must all be more vigilant.’
‘Your understanding in this matter is welcome,’ Helborg said, inclining his head. ‘The Emperor is greatly concerned for your wellbeing, and hopes to see you in person soon.’
Artheris was about to reply when a snort of derision came from the ranks of elves.
‘How dare he!’ came the voice of Tethmar, a Dragon Prince of Caledor. ‘He should come here, and risk the anarchy of his own streets!’
A murmur of approval ran around the hall. Helborg visibly bristled, but did his best to respond calmly.
‘The Emperor is detained by many matters. Moreover, he is the master of this land, and will not be dictated to by strangers, no matter how mighty.’
Artheris felt her heart sink. Passions were running high.
‘How can a man be master of a land when assassins shelter in the shadows?’ cried a second voice from the elven contingent, a mage called Rasserion. ‘Or maybe he finds the company of druchii more to his liking than us?’
The Reiksguard company captain, Joachim Stern, stepped forwards then, his face flushed with anger.
‘Hold your tongue, cur, or I’ll cut it out!’ he bellowed, his fingers clutching the pommel of his sword. The mage fixed him a look of pure contempt, and raised his staff threateningly.
‘Enough!’ roared Helborg, pulling his captain back into line. His anger was evident, but he controlled it well. ‘I did not come here to start a new fight. No one regrets what happened more than I. But we are men of the Empire, and will not be spoken to like children!’
Artheris admired his spirit. He was no hot-blooded fool, but neither was he withdrawing an inch.
‘Well spoken, Grand Marshal,’ she said. There was no magic in her voice. To try and soothe the situation with tricks would be an insult to those around her. ‘You are a valiant servant of Karl Franz, and your deeds are known among us. Forgive my people. I am dear to them, and though you may not think it, we are a passionate race.’
She turned her head to the assembled elves.
‘Asur, you shame me,’ she said. Though her voice was quiet, there was a kernel of ithilmar in her speech. ‘One does not summon an Emperor in his own realm. The ways of the druchii are devious, and we have fallen to their traps before. We may mourn the slain, but be glad the prize eluded them. I am alive, and the muster continues. If we fight amongst ourselves, then their dark purpose has been achieved.’
Helborg looked at her carefully as she spoke. When she finished, he inclined his head once more in respect. He looked like a man who had expected to encounter a cheap trickster but instead found a master warrior of equal standing.
‘Your words shame us all,’ he said. ‘We share blame for what happened. What you say is true. If we become divided, all is lost. But I say to you all, do not scorn the men of the Empire! You are a mighty people, but we have faith and strength forged in steel and drenched in the blood of our forefathers. Soon we will march to war, and all will be put to the test. Only then judge our worth.’
Helborg’s thick, gruff voice, born of years of service and hardship, echoed around the hall. Even the ambassador Armorel listened carefully. Artheris liked the Grand Marshal more and more. This Helborg was no silver-tongued orator, but his speech carried the weight of a man of honour.
‘You will prove worthy,’ said Artheris simply. ‘And so shall we. Whenever men and elves have stood together the forces of Chaos have been repelled. It will be no different this time.’
She turned to address the entire hall.
‘The need for swiftness has always been on my mind,’ she said. ‘It is clear now that all things are moving, and we must not be left behind. Our preparations and deliberations have been essential, but they are now concluded. The march will begin before the day is out, and the Empire of Men no longer stands alone. Karl Franz has charged us with bolstering the defence of Lord Heinrich’s lands to the north, sorely tested by revolt and invasion. That is where the hammer will fall, and that is where we shall make our counter-thrust. Nothing, not the blades of the druchii nor the machinations of the Dark Gods can stop it. At long last we ride to war, and to the test of arms. Let no fresh division hamper our joint destiny.’
She let her gaze pass over the assembled throng. The tide of murmuring bitterness had ceased, and the grizzled Reiksguard soldiers looked slightly less belligerent. Helborg nodded with approval.
‘So be it,’ he said. ‘The Emperor will be heartened by these tidings. When you ride, the Reiksguard will be with you. The time has come to end the long retreat, and bring the battle to the enemy at last. I will leave you now. My own paths take me to the east once more. But one day, Sigmar willing, I will fight by your side, and show you in person what steel we still possess. Until then, farewell, and I will look for tidings from the north.’
He bowed once more, and the delegation withdrew. Artheris watched them leave with satisfaction. Relief flooded through her. The first test had been passed. Now the real trials would begin.
