blond hair of the line of Silvanos, but Speaker Elendar’s face was surprisingly free of the haughty expression that seemed the norm for his courtiers. While Vixa and Gundabyr studied him, he studied them as well, peering through a gold wire frame in which was set a polished glass disk.
“A dwarf. I’ve never seen a dwarf before,” the Speaker said, his voice deep and resonant.
Quite devoid of self-consciousness, Gundabyr stumped forward and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Your Majesty.” The air was filled with elven gasps. Gundabyr compounded his indiscretion by asking, “What is that thing you’re holding?”
“My crystal? Oh, I have a weakness in my eyes that keeps me from seeing clearly things that are more than an arm’s length away,” was the calm reply. The courtiers seethed with indignation at the dwarf’s informality, but the Speaker of the Stars seemed unconcerned. “It enlarges things. See?”
Gundabyr took the proffered object and held the two-inch-wide glass disk to his eye. “By Reorx!” Turning to Vixa, he exclaimed, “I want one of these things! All those late nights I spent at the forge, trying to read recipes from the
Speaker Elendar regarded the dwarf with unconcealed amusement. “I shall have one made for you, Master Gundabyr. And you,” he said to Vixa, “are said to be my cousin. Is this true?”
She bowed as she would to her uncle, Speaker Silveran. “I am Vixa Ambrodel, Sire. Your father and my grandfather were brothers.”
“Yes, but not very good brothers.” There was no malice in his tone. He smiled at her and added, “And now you’ve had quite an adventure, haven’t you? Oh, yes, I’ve heard it all, Cousin. You lead an active life, like all those of the line of Kith-Kanan.” The Speaker sighed.
Vixa could have sworn that there was a wistful quality to his words, as though the Speaker of the Stars, for all his power and prestige, envied her.
Agavenes and Druzenalis had come up behind the others. The Speaker asked the marshal about the current military situation.
“Great Speaker, since the destruction of Thonbec, there has been little sign of the invaders. We have reports from farmers and fisherfolk of the enemy on both sides of the river, but none have been seen more than a league north of the fortress,” reported Druzenalis.
“And what do you make of that, Marshal?”
Druzenalis did not even glance at Vixa and Gundabyr. “I say it is a diversion, Majesty. It smells of Qualinesti duplicity,” he replied coldly.
Vixa was outraged. “What? How dare-”
“What sort of invasion is it that fails to follow up on a significant victory?” the marshal went on. “Thonbec has fallen-so where are the enemy? Had they struck within a day of the citadel’s fall, the element of surprise would have been on their side. I believe, if anything, this is a diversion from the true attack, which will come from the west.”
More shocking than the marshal’s accusation were the nods of agreement from the assembled Silvanesti nobility. Vixa exploded, “That’s ridiculous! The Speaker of the Sun is devoted to peace! Everyone knows that!”
“I have stated my opinion.” Druzenalis put a hand on the hilt of his short ceremonial sword. “Great Speaker, I think this girl is a spy and a deceiver. I say she should be thrown into prison. Let her ponder the unwisdom of trying to make fools of the Silvanesti.”
The Speaker leaned forward, his blond eyebrows rising. “It
Vixa took a deep breath. Angry ranting would do her no good. She must make her case calmly, sensibly. “Majesty, the Dargonesti are used to living in the depths of the sea. I can think of many reasons why they have delayed-the sunlight blinds them, the fresh water of the river could be distasteful to them, their kraken may be unmanageable-”
“The outlander is delaying,” Druzenalis cut in. “Send her to prison, Sire. And the dwarf as well.”
Until now, Samcadaris had remained silent, intimidated by his surroundings. At last he found his tongue. “Great Speaker,” he said cautiously, “may one who witnessed the fall of Thonbec speak his mind?”
The Speaker nodded. “By our leave.”
“Everything Lady Vixa and Master Gundabyr told us at Thonbec proved to be true. The Dargonesti are real. I have seen them, fought them. Twice the warriors from the sea attacked the fort, but always by night. If I were their commander-” He glanced around nervously as if to gauge how far he could go. “If I were the Dargonesti commander, I would not have attacked yet either.”
“And why not?” sneered the marshal.
“Silvanost is an island. The surest way for a water-dwelling foe to lay siege to a city as large as ours is to envelop the island.”
“With ten thousand troops? It cannot be done,” Druzenalis snapped. “A hundred thousand, or more, would be required to encircle Fallan!”
“In conventional terms, yes, sir. But the Dargonesti have an advantage. They can attack us on land, but we can’t touch them under the water.”
Vixa saw what the captain was driving at. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “The Dargonesti don’t need to defend their lines against attack, therefore they don’t need thousands of troops. By strategically placing their forces around the island, they can attack at will. And they can always retreat to the safety of the river.”
The Speaker’s relaxed posture vanished in an instant. He turned an intense gaze upon Druzenalis. “Could this be true, Marshal?”
Druzenalis was looking disconcerted, but he tried to wave off his junior’s ideas. “Assuming these enemies even exist, then
“I saw them!” Samcadaris said with heat.
“Me too,” Gundabyr put in. “And an Ironbender doesn’t lie!”
Gundabyr and Vixa were glaring at the marshal. Druzenalis kept his eyes fixed on the Speaker. The growing tension was diffused by calm words from Speaker Elendar.
“It seems you have brought a timely warning, Cousin,” he said, smiling at Vixa. “You and Master Gundabyr will remain here in the palace as my guests. Captain Samcadaris, you have served your country bravely. You are dismissed as well, with our thanks.”
At a gesture from the Speaker, two servants stepped forward. Vixa and Gundabyr bowed to the throne, and the servants escorted them from the room. She sent Samcadaris a questioning look, but the Silvanesti captain only shrugged. Vixa sighed. They had delivered the warning. Now it was up to the Silvanesti.
As they were ushered out of the audience hall, the Qualinesti princess heard Druzenalis begin a haughty denunciation of her and her story. Lord Agavenes joined in, agreeing with the marshal. Vixa was surprised to find herself feeling a bit sorry for the Speaker. He seemed to have inherited retainers from his father’s reign. Like most old retainers, each thought he knew better than anyone else-better, even, than the Speaker of the Stars.
Chapter 20
Under the wind-tossed waves near the mouth of the Thon-Thalas, the Dargonesti were gathering. Queen Uriona’s servants erected a seaweed canopy to protect their queen from the sun’s rays in the relatively shallow water. Uriona’s throne, laboriously borne here from the distant city, was set under the canopy. The throne itself was a low, four-legged, backless chair carved of blood coral and inlaid with precious stones. Its wide seat curved up slightly on each side into arms shaped to resemble leaping dolphins.
Coryphene escorted Uriona to the place prepared for her. The queen, her face covered by a soft silver mask, seated herself.
“When will you be ready to attack?” she asked in the shrill, clicking tones of the water-tongue.
