consciousness from the exertion. Samcadaris and Vixa stood up.
“Is that it?” asked the dwarf, unimpressed.
“Wait,” said Samcadaris. “You must be patient.”
Gundabyr shrugged his broad shoulders and went back to the fire for another apple. He’d taken only a few bites when a distant thundering reached his ears. Soon, the sound was recognizable as the pounding of hooves. Gundabyr was happily surprised by the sight of ten horses cantering into the clearing. They were of all colors and sizes-from heavy farm animals still wearing leather collars around their necks to half-wild ponies with ragged coats and unshod hooves. As only eight mounts were needed, the elves sorted out the best of the lot and sent the remaining two on their way.
The soldiers made halters out of rawhide for each of the animals. General Axarandes’s makeshift stretcher was lashed behind one of the muscular farm horses. The travois wasn’t ideal, but he was in no condition to ride. Gundabyr was provided with a wicked-looking pony. It bared yellow teeth at him and pranced nervously when he approached. The dwarf put his face up close to the pony’s and bared his own yellow teeth. The fractious horse settled down after that. Gundabyr led it to convenient stump, and was soon mounted.
“Remarkable,” said Samcadaris. “I doubt that animal’s ever been ridden. How did you tame him so quickly?”
“Nothing to it. I just let him know that if he bites me, I’ll bite back!”
For the first time since arriving in Silvanesti, Vixa Ambrodel laughed.
Chapter 19
The trip to Silvanost passed quickly. It was nearly sunset when they came in sight of the fabled capital of the eastern elven realm. Tired though she was, Vixa sat up straight as the first silver towers gleamed over the distant trees. No one she knew, not even Colonel Armantaro, had seen this ancient city. He had often spoken of his desire to see the city of their ancestors. Vixa’s excitement was tempered with sadness at the thought that he would never get his wish.
Unlike the buildings of Qualinost, which were formed from naturally occurring rose quartz, the spires of Silvanost were constructed of white marble. They soared to remarkable heights and were so slender and sharply peaked as to resemble giant inverted icicles or spikes of the purest white glass.
At least one of General Axarandes’s couriers must have gotten to Silvanost ahead of them. Samcadaris pointed out that the river was devoid of the usual collection of small water craft. Large, heavy barges, their sides lined with bronze shields, were anchored in midstream to bar the way to enemy ships. The warning had not been ignored completely.
Banners flew from every masthead and tower peak. The setting sun warmed the white walls of Silvanost, and against that majestic backdrop, Vixa saw troops moving along the lengthy battlements.
They left behind the orchards and neatly tended gardens and entered a grassy plain that rolled down to the river. At once they were surrounded and challenged by handsomely outfitted cavalry on snow-white horses.
“Stand!” called a rider in herald’s plumage. “Name yourselves!”
“Samcadaris, of House Protector. I have General Axarandes of Thonbec with me, gravely wounded. These are his warriors.”
“Who are the outlanders?”
Samcadaris nodded to Vixa and Gundabyr, indicating they should speak for themselves. Vixa drew herself up and said in a loud, clear voice, “Vixa Ambrodel, daughter of Verhanna Kanan and Kemian Ambrodel, niece of Silveran, Speaker of the Sun!”
The dwarf merely waved a hand and said tiredly, “Gundabyr. Forgemaster. Thorbardin.”
“You will come with me.” The herald reined his prancing horse and sent it galloping off toward the shore. Vixa, Samcadaris, and the rest thumped heels against their ragged mounts and followed.
At the water’s edge, a broad stone ramp slanted at a gentle angle into the river. The herald halted and put a golden horn to his lips. Two crystalline notes echoed across the Thon-Thalas. He sounded them once more.
“Now what?” rumbled Gundabyr. Vixa shrugged in reply.
In moments, they saw a stately barge of considerable size coming across the river toward them. At first she and Gundabyr couldn’t figure out how it was powered. It had no sails, oars, or sweeps. A pair of thick chains ran taut from the bow out into the water ahead of the vessel. Gundabyr asked about their purpose, but before anyone could reply, the answer rose to the surface. A vast green dome emerged from the river in front of the barge. It loomed higher and higher. Unconsciously, both newcomers edged their horses away from the shore.
The dome was jointed, made up of dozens of smaller plates. Vixa was astonished to realize that it was a creature of some sort. Its head, the size of a fishing dory, rose dripping from the water, and huge brown eyes stared impassively at her.
“It’s a turtle!” yelped Gundabyr. “The father of all turtles!”
“They are bred as tow beasts for the cross-river ferry.” Samcadaris was grinning.
“Fantastic,” Vixa breathed. “How do you control such a monster?”
“They are gentle as lambs, lady. Priests of the Blue Phoenix train them to work. I do not know what spells they use.”
It didn’t take long for the giant turtle to cross the Thon-Thalas. Soon it was hauling itself out of the water onto the stone ramp, laboriously turning the barge for the return trip. The vessel bumped along until the barge master whistled for the beast to halt. A gangplank was lowered, and two soldiers from Thonbec carried Axarandes aboard. Vixa, Gundabyr, and Samcadaris followed.
The barge was crammed with Silvanesti-by the look of them, river sailors hastily pressed into service as soldiers. Unlike the splendidly dressed cavalry, the barge marines were decked out in an assortment of ill-fitting cuirasses and helms. Like all the Silvanesti, they were tall and slender, with light eyes and hair. Vixa was used to the mixture of races found in Qualinost. Elves-many descended from the darker, stockier Kagonesti line-humans, some dwarves, and a few kender all called Qualinost home. The peaceful coexistence of the races was what her grandfather, Kith-Kanan, had envisioned for the city he founded. No such mixing of the races occurred in Silvanost.
Hundreds of years earlier, when Silvanesti was home to all elves, Speaker of the Stars Sithel had been slain by a party of humans hunting the fringes of Silvanesti territory. Though the humans insisted the death had been accidental, the outraged elves had set about ridding their land of all nonelves, especially humans, many of whom had intermarried with the ancient race. The humans resisted, and so was begun the Kinslayer War.
When the fighting was over, the elves withdrew into their country, disdaining any contact with those not of the-to their way of thinking-superior race. Their natural arrogance had blossomed into outright bigotry.
However, some elves chafed under the rigid traditions and rules that governed their land. They were championed by Kith-Kanan, son of former Speaker Sithel and twin brother of Speaker of the Stars Sithas. This rift widened until it brought about the sundering of the elven nation. Kith-Kanan led his followers west, to found a new country called Qualinesti, where all races would be welcome.
Only Silvanesti feet had trodden the streets of Silvanost these last four hundred years. Now the eastern elves were faced with not only a dwarven intruder, but a Qualinesti one as well. They had a deep mistrust of their western cousins, as some Qualinesti had sided with the humans during the Kinslayer War. The Silvanesti also believed that if elves had never married humans, bringing the humans into Silvanesti, the entire bloody conflict would never have happened. There were even those who worried that the exiles-as the eastern elves called the Qualinesti-would one day try to return to Silvanesti to take back their ancestral home by force.
Vixa had always stood out among the inhabitants of her own country, with her height, light coloring, and bright blond hair. Here, she blended into the crowd.
It was obvious the Silvanesti didn’t see it that way, however. Once Vixa and Gundabyr were on the barge,
