Samcadaris looked at the distant Thon-Thalas. “Thank Astarin for that, at least.”
“What we really need are horses,” Vixa said, rising. “We need to take a warning to Silvanost with all possible speed.”
The elf captain managed a smile. He stood and dusted his hands. “I can do something about that, lady.”
He went to General Axarandes. Vixa and Gundabyr followed. They could see the general’s thin chest rising and falling as he breathed. Samcadaris knelt by his commander, placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“Sir? My lord Axarandes?”
Under a bruised brow, the general’s eyes slowly opened. “Samca,” he rasped.
“Sir, we need horses. We must get to Silvanost as quickly as possible.”
“Sent … couriers.”
“Yes, sir, I know,” Samcadaris said patiently. “But we don’t know if they got through. And you, my lord, are in need of a healer. Your wound is very serious.”
“I should be dead. My citadel pulled down like a wattle hut, elves of Silvanesti fleeing in panic … you should have left me in the rubble.”
Vixa knelt on the general’s other side. “Look here, General. You’re alive and there’s a lot of fighting to be done yet. Will you give up on your country when it needs you most?”
He regarded her with bloodshot eyes. “Are you really a princess of the House of Kith-Kanan?”
Her back stiffened. She looked down on him with proud eyes. “I am Vixa Ambrodel, granddaughter of Kith-Kanan, first Speaker of the Sun.”
A tiny smile lifted Axarandes’s lips. “I’m sorry I doubted you, lady. You have the spirit, the carriage of a princess. I should have known it.”
“Don’t let it trouble you, sir. If I’d been in your shoes, I wouldn’t have believed me either.”
Samcadaris cleared his throat. “Sir, the horses?”
“Ah, yes.”
Axarandes raised a hand stiffly to his neck and groped in the folds of his tunic. He produced a small golden talisman, which hung around his neck on a thong. It was a horse rampant, beautifully worked. Closing his hand around the figurine, he began to speak, though no sound passed his lips.
Gundabyr leaned over Vixa’s shoulder and whispered loudly, “What’s up? Is he praying?”
“The general is summoning horses,” Samcadaris explained quietly. “Some elders of House Protector have the ability to call horses to them in times of emergency.”
It was a long spell Axarandes soundlessly chanted. When at last the talisman fell from his fingers, he lost 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.