Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (74 page)

send your head to the dragon."

Kalindas gasped. Kelevandros gave a hoarse shout and

lunged at Medan, grappling for his throat with his bare hands.

"Stop, Kelevandros!" Laurana ordered, throwing herself be-

tween the elf and the marshal. "This will not help! Stop this

madness!"

Kelevandros fell back, panting, glaring at Medan with hatred.

Kalindas took hold of his brother's arm, but Kelevandros angrily

shook him off.

"Come, madam," said Marshal Medan. He offered Laurana

his arm. The torch smoked and sputtered. Orchids, hanging over

the door, shriveled in the heat.

Laurana rested her hand on the marshal's arm. She looked

back at the two brothers, standing, white-faced with shadowed

eyes, watching her being led away to her death.

Which one? she asked herself, sick at heart. Which one?

CHAPTER TWENTYNINE

PRISON OF AMBER

The midsummer's morning dawned unusually cool in

Silvanesti.

"A fine day for battle, gentlemen," said Mina to her as-

sembled officers.

Galdar led the cheers, which shook the trees along the river-

bank, caused the leaves of the aspens to tremble.

"So may our valor set the elves to trembling," said Captain

Samuval. "A great victory will be ours this day, Mina! We cannot

fail!"

"On the contrary," said Mina coolly. "This day we will be de-

feated."

Knights and officers stared at her blankly. They had seen her

perform miracle after miracle, until the miracles were now stacked

up one on top of the other like crockery in a neat housewife's cup-

board. The idea that these miracles were to now come spilling out

of the cupboard, come crashing down around their ears was a ca-

tastrophe not to be believed. So they did not believe it.

"She's joking, " said Galdar, attempting to pass it off with a laugh.

Mina shook her head. "We will lose the battle this day. An

army of a thousand elven warriors has come to test us. We are

outnumbered over two to one. We cannot win this battle."

The Knights and officers looked at each other uneasily. They

looked at Mina grimly, doubtfully.

"But though we lose the battle this day," Mina continued,

smiling slightly, her amber eyes lit from behind with an eerie

glow that made the faces captured in them glitter like tiny stars,

"this day we will win the war. But only if you obey me without

question. Only if you follow my orders exactly."

The men grinned, relaxed. "We will, Mina," several shouted,

and the rest cheered.

Mina was no longer smiling. The amber of her eyes flowed

over them, congealed around them, froze them where they stood.

"You will obey my orders, though you do not understand them.

You will obey my orders, though you do not like them. You will

swear this to me on your knees, swear by the Nameless God who

is witness to your oath and who will exact terrible revenge upon

the oath breaker. Do you so swear?"

The Knights sank down on their knees in a semicircle around

her. Removing their swords, they held them by the blade, beneath

the hilt. They lifted their swords to Mina. Captain Samuval went

down on his knees, bowed his head. Galdar remained standing.

Mina turned her amber eyes on him.

"On you, Galdar, more than on anyone else rests the outcome

of this battle. If you refuse to obey me, if you refuse to obey the

God who gave you back your warrior's arm, we are lost. All of us.

But you, most especially."

"What is your command, Mina?" Galdar asked harshly. "Tell

me first, that I may know."

"No, Galdar," she said gently. "You either trust me or you do

not. You put your faith in the God or you do not. Which will it be?"

Slowly, Galdar knelt down upon his knees before her. Slowly

he drew his sword from its scabbard and slowly held it up as did

the others. He held it in the hand the God had returned to him.

"I so swear, Mina!" he said.

The rest spoke as one.

"I so swear!"

The battleground was a large field located on the banks of the

Thon- Thalas River. The elf soldiers trampled tender stalks of

wheat beneath their soft leather boots. The elf archers took their

places amid tall stands of green, tasseled com. General Konnal set

up his command tent in a peach orchard. The arms of a great

windmill turned endlessly, creaking in the wind that had a taste

of autumn's harvest in it.

There would be a harvest on this field, a dread harvest, a har-

vest of young lives. When it was over, the water that ran at the

feet of the great windmill would run red.

The field stood between the approaching enemy army and the

capital of Silvanost. The elves put themselves in harm's way, in-

tending to stop the army of darkness before it could reach the

heart of the elf kingdom. The Silvanesti were outraged, insulted,

infuriated. In hundreds of years, no enemy had set foot on this'

sacred land. The only enemy they had fought had been one of

their own making, the twisted dream of Lorac.

Their wonderful magical shield had failed them. They did not

know how or why, but most of the elves were convinced that it

had been penetrated by an evil machination of the Knights of

Neraka.

"To that end, General," Glaucous was saying, "the capture of

their leader is of the utmost importance. Bring this girl in for in-

terrogation. She will tell me how she managed to thwart the

shield's magic."

"What makes you think she will tell you?" Konnal asked, an-

noyed at the wizard and his harping on this subject alone.

"She may refuse, GeneraL" Glaucous assured him, "but she

will not have any choice in the matter. I will use the truth-seek

on her."

The two were in the general's command tent. They had met

early that morning with the elf officers. Silvan had explained his

strategy. The officers had agreed that the tactics were sound.

Konnal had then dismissed them to deploy their men. The

enemy was reported to be about five miles away. According to

the scouts, the Knights of Neraka had halted to arm themselves

and put on their armor. They were obviously preparing for

battle.

"I cannot spare the men who would be required to seize a

single office4 Glaucous," the general added, recording his orders

in a large book. "If the girl is captured in battle, fine. If not. . ."

He shrugged, continued writing.

"I will undertake her capture, General," Silvan offered.

" Absolutely not, Your Majesty," Glaucous said hurriedly.

"Give me a small detachment of mounted warriors," Silvan

urged, coming to stand before the general. "We will circle around

their flank, come in from behind. We will wait until the battle is

fairly joined and then we will drive through the lines in a wedge,

strike down her bodyguard, capture this commander of theirs

and carry her back to our lines."

Konnallooked up from his work.

"You said yourself, Glaucous, that discovering the means by

which these evil fiends came through the shield would be useful.

I think His Majesty's plan is sound."

"His Majesty puts himself in too much danger," Glaucous

protested.

"I will order members of my own bodyguard to ride with the

king," Konnal said. "No harm will come to him."

"It had better not," Glaucous said softly.

Ignoring his adviser, Konnal walked over to the map, stared

down at it. He laid his finger on a certain point. "My guess is

that the enemy commander will take up her position here, on

this rise. That is where you should look for her and her body-

guard. You can circle around the battle by riding through this

stand of trees, emerging at this point. You will be practically on

top of them. You will have the element of surprise, and you

should be able to strike before they are aware of you. Does Your

Majesty agree?"

"The plan is an excellent one, General," said Silvan with

enthusiasm.

He was to wear new armor, beautifully made, wonderfully

designed. The breastplate bore the pattern of a twelve-pointed

star, his helm was formed in the likeness of two swan's wjngs

done in shining steel. He carried a new sword, and he now knew

how to use one, having spent many hours each day since his ar-

rival in Silvanost studying with an expert elf swordsman, who

had been most complimentary on His Majesty's progress. Silvan

felt invincible. Victory would belong to the elves this day, and he

was determined to playa glorious part, a part that would be cel-

ebrated in story and song for generations to come~

He left, ecstatic, to go prepare for battle. .

Glaucous lingered behind.

Konnal had returned to his work. Glaucous made no sound,

but Konnal sensed his presence, as one senses hungry eyes

watching one in a dark forest.

"Begone. I have work to do."

"I am going. I only want to emphasize what I said earlier. The

king must be kept safe."

Konnal sighed, looked up. "If he comes to harm, it will not be

through me. I am not an ogre, to kill one of my own kind. I spoke

in haste yesterday, without thinking. I will give my guards orders

to watch over him as if he were my own son."

"Excellent, General," said Glaucous with his beautiful smile.

"I am much relieved. My hopes for this land and its people

depend on him. Silvanoshei Caladon must Jive to rule Silvanesti

for many years. As did his grandfather before him."

"Are you certain you will not reconsider and ride with us,

Kiryn? This will be a battle celebrated for generations to

come!"

Silvan fidgeted under the ministrations of his squire, who was

attempting to buckle the straps of the king's damascened armor

and having a difficult time of it. The leather was stiff and new, the

straps refused to ease into place. Silvan's constant shifting and

moving did not help matters.

"If Your Majesty would please hold still!" the exasperated

squire begged.

"Sorry," Silvan said and did as he was told, for a few seconds

at any rate. Then he turned his head to look at Kiryn, who sat on

a cot, watching the proceedings. "1 could lend you some armor. I

have another full suit."

Kiryn shook his head. "My uncle has given me my assign-

ment. I am to carry dispatches and messages between the officers.

No armor for me. I must travel light."

A trumpet call sounded, causing Silvan to give such a start of

excitement that he undid a good quarter of an hour's worth of

work. "The enemy is in-sight! Hurry, you oaf!"

The squire sucked in a breath and held his tongue. Kiryn

added his assistance, and between the two of them the king was

readied for battle.

"I would embrace you for luck, Cousin," said Kiryn, "but I

would be bruised for a week. I do wish you luck, though," he said

more seriously as he clasped Silvan's hand in his. "though I

hardly think you'll need it."

Silvan was grave, solemn for a moment. "Battles are chancy

things, Samar used to say. One man's bravery may save the day.

One man's cowardice may spoil it. That is what I fear most,

Cousin. More than death. I fear that I will turn coward and flee

the field. I've seen it happen. I've seen good men, brave men fall

to their knees and tremble and weep like little children."

"Your mother's courage flows in your veins along with your

father's fortitude:' Kiryn reassured him. "You will not fail their

memories. You will not fail your people. You will not fail yourself."

Silvan drew in a deep breath of the flower-scented air, let it

out slowly. The sunshine was like warm honey spilling from the

sky. All around him were familiar sounds and smells, sounds of

battle and war, smells of leather and sweat sounds and smells he

had been born to, sounds and smells he had come to loathe but

which, oddly, he had also come to miss. His playground had been

a battlefield, a command tent his cradle. He was more at home

here, he realized, than he was in his fine castle.

Smiling ruefully, he walked out of his tent his armor of silver

and gold gleaming brightly, to be greeted by the enthusiastic

cheers of his people.

The battle plans for both sides were simple. The elves formed

ranks across the field, with the archers in the rear. The army of the

Knights of Neraka extended their thinner lines among the trees of

the low hillside, hoping to tempt the elves into attacking rashly,

attacking up hill.

Konnal was far too smart to fall for that. He was patient if his

troops were not and he kept fast hold of them. He had time, all

the time in the world. The army of the Knights of Neraka, run-

ning low on supplies, did not.

Toward midafternoon, a single braying trumpet sounded

from the hills. The elves gripped their weapons. The army of

darkness came out of the hills on the run, shouting insults and de-

fiance to their foes. Arrows from both sides arced into the skies,

forming a canopy of death above the heads of the armies, who