“Sier Tolmaric was a brave man from a family that had suffered much at elven hands,” Kieri said, ignoring the rest for the moment. Amrothlin’s arrogance grated on him. “Had the Lady not pressed her glamour on him, he might have fought at my side.”

“What injury had he from elves?” Amrothlin asked, brows raised.

Kieri regretted mentioning it; this was something else that would be better discussed later. But if he wanted answers to questions, then he must answer those asked of him. “When my mother was killed, and I abducted, Tolmaric’s father and grandfather were taken away by the elves—possibly by you yourself. Were you involved in that?”

Amrothlin scowled. “We thought humans were, of course. How else?”

“Perhaps today you see another possibility,” Kieri said. “Elves took some of his family, and they came back damaged, with no apologies or recompense made. Nor, though I asked the Lady, was any recompense made for his losses from scathefire. Nor was that family the only one injured in your search for my mother’s killers.” He slid his sword home in its scabbard, picked up the dagger, and wiped it down. “But we will talk of this later, when you have taken the Lady away. For now, tell your people what happened—what really happened—and give those who died whatever honor you can. Where will you lay the Lady?”

“In that valley where the elvenhome below was,” Amrothlin said. “She loved that valley. It is not in Lyonya as you know it, but you would be welcome to come there.”

Kieri shook his head as he slid the dagger, now clean and oiled, into its sheath. “With this menace hanging over us, I cannot leave, Uncle. It would be better, indeed, if you found a place for her nearer to Chaya, since you lack the protection of the elvenhome. Why not the King’s Grove, where the symbol of our alliance is? You say, I understand, that your people have no existence beyond death—though truly I do not understand how you can know that—”

“We were told,” Amrothlin said in a low voice.

Kieri wanted to ask, By whom?, but this was not the time. “Linne, please tell the steward or Garris—whomever you find first—to summon the Council to the large dining room. They may already have heard, but I will formally announce Sier Tolmaric’s death there. And we will need a bier for Tolmaric’s body.” He looked at Amrothlin again. “The palace can furnish biers for your dead. I will want two elves at the Council. You, unless your duties to the Lady’s body require you here, and whomever you choose.”