conversation among the crew quickly died. The dwarf and the Qualinesti girl were greeted with stares, some curious, but none welcoming.
“What’s the matter with them?” muttered Gundabyr.
“Nothing,” she replied just as softly. “They just don’t get many-
From his tower at the ferry’s prow, the barge master gave a whistle. The turtle lurched into motion again, heading down the muddy ramp into the water. The barge did a swift right turn, sending the landlubbers skittering to the port bulwark. When the ride smoothed out, Samcadaris cornered the herald.
“Has the enemy been seen near the city?” he asked.
“No. I’m not even sure who the enemy is,” the young herald replied. He eyed Vixa. “Are the Qualinesti attacking us?”
Vixa opened her mouth to protest, but Samcadaris intervened. “Indeed not,” the captain said. “These brave foreigners brought us warning of the coming invasion.”
The herald’s gaze lost some of its hostility, but he still looked skeptical. “How was General Axarandes wounded? In battle?”
“His fortress fell on him,” Gundabyr said bluntly. “When the kraken knocked it down.”
“The what?”
Samcadaris explained grimly. “Thonbec is no more. The enemy command a great sea monster, which tore the fortress apart as though it were made of parchment. Its tentacles-”
“Hadn’t you better save the report for the Speaker?” Vixa interrupted, noting the terrified looks Samcadaris’s words were generating among the others on the ferry.
One of the crew, fear draining the color from his face, blurted, “Sea monster, Captain?”
Another put in, “What sort of fearsome beast could destroy an entire fortress?”
“Don’t worry,” Gundabyr said in a loud, genial voice. “The kraken can swallow three-masters for breakfast and swamp cities with a single belch, but it won’t come to Silvanost.”
The elves stared at him, openmouthed. “Why not?” asked one.
“Your river’s too small. The kraken’s a mile across, after all.”
The Silvanesti did not look reassured.
They docked at an elegant white marble gatehouse, with raised drawbridge and arrow loops bristling with wary elven archers. The herald went ashore as soon as the bridge was lowered. The four soldiers from Thonbec bore their wounded general off the barge and took him away to be tended. Silvanesti from all over the quayside gathered to see the strange outlanders. As Vixa and Gundabyr awaited their turn to come ashore, quite a crowd collected.
“Make way! Make way! I am on the Speaker’s business!” cried the herald, clearing a path for them through the curious throng.
The Silvanesti parted for him, but did not disperse. They began to murmur and point as the two outsiders came down the gangplank. Vixa felt the heat of attention. After weeks of living underwater, then fighting and escaping from Thonbec, she hardly resembled the regal daughter of a neighboring kingdom. She would have preferred to visit fabled Silvanost under different circumstances. It was obvious Gundabyr was feeling much the same way, despite his studied nonchalance. He hardly earned much respect for Thorbardin by his scruffy appearance. Still, Vixa held her head high and strode purposefully behind the herald. She might not be dressed as a princess, but she could certainly act like one.
“Hey, is this … a race?” Gundabyr panted, jogging to keep up with her.
Vixa didn’t respond. The hostility of the Silvanesti was reminding her of her first sight of the common folk of Urione, when she and Armantaro had been taken through the streets to the palace. She was growing weary of such arrogant treatment. The fact she had come here only to save these ill-mannered elves made her angrier still.
After a few minutes the crowds thinned. Here the streets were wider as well, paved in white granite and spotlessly clean. Elaborate gardens peeped over the walls and roofs of private homes. White roses and lilac twined around doorways, giving off a heady scent. The air felt oddly charged, as though a thunderstorm had just passed, though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
Gundabyr remarked upon it as well.
Samcadaris said, “We are used to it. Some sages say it is the presence of godly favor, bestowed upon us as the first race in the world. Others say it’s the collective auras of so many Silvanesti living in one place. Still another opinion is that the presence of the Speaker of the Stars causes it.”
“What do you believe?” Vixa asked.
He shrugged. “I am just a soldier, lady. I leave such mysteries for others to ponder.”
Vixa liked his answer. Instead of trying to impress her with mysticism, he told the simple truth.
From a quiet residential street the procession entered a marvelous thoroughfare, paved in marble and gold. Here they had a clear view of the mightiest spire in the city, the Tower of the Stars. Vixa caught her breath at its beauty. This was Uriona’s goal, the seat of power for the monarch of the first elven kingdom. Six hundred feet tall, made of the purest white marble, in the dimness of the twilit evening the Tower of the Stars glowed with its own light, shining like a beacon.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that up close,” Gundabyr confided to Vixa.
The herald, overhearing, remarked, “No outsider has set foot inside the Tower since the beginning of the Kinslayer War.”
The very matter-of-factness of his tone caused Gundabyr to bristle. To forestall any argument, Vixa asked, “Who is Speaker now? Is it still Sithas, son of Sithel? News from Silvanost is hard to come by.”
“Great Sithas died two decades ago. His fourth son, Elendar, now holds the Throne of the Stars.”
A beautiful carriage of red maple inlaid with carnelian and drawn by a team of three black horses rolled past them. The herald hailed this vision. To Vixa’s delight, it proved to be for hire.
“Take us to Tower Protector,” the herald ordered. When everyone was aboard, the driver clucked his tongue, and the trio of horses trotted away.
Nestled in butter-soft leather cushions, Vixa and Gundabyr found themselves playing tourist. They pointed to striking buildings and quizzed Samcadaris and the herald (whose name, they learned, was Tiahmoro) to identify them. The Qualinesti princess was especially delighted to see the Temple of Astra-or Astarin, as the Bard King was known in Silvanesti. This was the great founding temple, more ancient than any other in the world. They saw the dwellings of the nobility, richly faced with gold and silver, surrounded by trees that had been magically formed into fantastic shapes.
The boulevard led them to a circular plaza. In its center stood a square building of yellow stone with a distinctly military flavor. Just behind it was a thick tower of white marble. The tower rose some seventy feet into the darkening sky. Next to it were several smaller towers, each only fifty feet tall. The carriage stopped. All four of them dismounted.
This, Vixa surmised, was the headquarters of the Speaker’s household guard, House Protector. They entered the square building through monumental front doors. Armed guards snapped to attention as they passed.
From her childhood lessons, Vixa knew that Silvanesti society was highly stratified, arranged in a rigid caste system. Every elf belonged to a certain house. There were many of these, from House Royal (the rulers descended from the first Speaker, Silvanos) through House Cleric, House Mason, and down to House Servitor. House Protector was the official army of Silvanost.
They wound through several corridors, ending at last in a central rotunda. This room, located in the main tower itself, rose seven stories to a massive dome. Diminished by these titanic proportions, Vixa and Gundabyr unconsciously inched closer together.
Samcadaris, unmoved by his familiar surroundings, strode through the echoing rotunda. He led them to a raised platform in the center of the great hall. An elderly elf in military garb sat at a high desk there.
“Ah, Samcadaris, son of Palindar, is it not? What have we here?” the old fellow said, his pale blue eyes fastening on Vixa.
“Sir, I wish to report the destruction of the citadel of Thonbec,” Samcadaris said calmly.
“What?” the ancient elf’s shocked exclamation caused heads to turn throughout the rotunda.
Samcadaris recited the story once more: how he and his friends had found the two outsiders on the beach, how they had warned General Axarandes of the Dargonesti invasion, how the invasion had come, and how the
