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 undersea kraken had destroyed the fortress. As he spoke, idle warriors gathered around, listening intently.
“Where is Axarandes?” asked the desk officer.
“In the arms of Quenesti Pah,” replied Samcadaris. “The goddess willing, he will live.”
The old officer took out a sheet of parchment and a stylus. He wrote for several seconds, then said, “Herald, you will go to the court. Here is your pass. Ask that the Speaker see these people as soon as possible.”
Many of the warriors in the rotunda protested his hasty decision. The old officer glowered and hammered on his desktop with the pommel of his dagger. The warriors fell silent. He finished writing, dusted the parchment with sand, and rolled it up. Tying it with a silken cord, he handed the scroll to Tiahmoro.
“You may wait here until the Speaker grants an audience, lady,” said the desk officer. “I will send word to those on watch.”
For the first time in many days, Vixa relaxed, at least a little. A flush of satisfaction warmed her tired body. She saluted smartly, saying, “Thank you, sir!”
The warriors dispersed, still arguing among themselves about the strange story. Tiahmoro departed, and Vixa lingered at the desk.
“Sir, may I make a request?” she asked softly.
“What is it?”
“If I am to meet the Speaker of the Stars, I would like to make myself more presentable. A bath and clean clothes would be most welcome.”
“Me, too,” grunted the dwarf.
The old elf eyed her torn and stained attire. “We have no female garments here, lady.”
“Soldier’s attire would suit me well, sir.”
He looked at her for a long, considering moment, seeing for the first time the warrior’s bearing beneath the privation and grime. He made up his mind. “Samcadaris,” he called. “See to their needs.”
The soldier led Vixa and Gundabyr away. The dwarf was taken to the soldiers’ common bathing room. Samcadaris escorted the Qualinesti princess to his own room. He called for a bath to be drawn, then departed. Servants brought fresh linen underclothes and an officer’s knee-length robe. Vixa washed the salt and dirt of many days from her sunburned skin. When she got out of the bath, she found the new clothes were an excellent fit. Sometimes her height was an advantage.
Half an hour after she’d left, Vixa was back in the rotunda, refreshed and ready to meet the Speaker of the Stars. Gundabyr was there as well, dressed in clean clothing. The elves had scrounged up leggings and a tunic for the dwarf. The hem dangled below his knees.
“Word has come back,” said the desk officer. “The Speaker of the Stars will see you this night. His Privy Councillors will be in attendance. Your audience will be in the Quinari Palace.”
Gundabyr grumbled at this. He’d hoped to see inside the Tower of the Stars.
The old Silvanesti went on, “Captain Samcadaris will accompany you. Herald Tiahmoro will conduct you.”
A short time later, Samcadaris and the herald reappeared. They had changed attire as well and were now clad in their finest dress uniforms: polished steel breastplates, greaves, and vambraces etched in gold with the monogram of the Speaker, and short red capes. Samcadaris’s helmet bore a plume from the rare golden peacock, the sacred bird of House Protector, indicating that he had distinguished himself greatly in battle.
An honor guard of forty warriors was drawn up in the street outside. Vixa and Gundabyr took their places in the center of the column. With Herald Tiahmoro in the lead, they marched away to the Quinari Palace. Idlers and couples strolling in the mild evening air stepped back and watched the glittering procession go by. They looked at Vixa and Gundabyr with surprise and unconcealed suspicion.
The cavalcade approached the gleaming facade of the palace down a long, ceremonial avenue lined with statues of former Speakers. Silvanos, in the guise of warrior, lawgiver, and father, was here. Next came Sithel, in similar poses, and then Sithas, the tragic Speaker who’d reigned through the Kinslayer War and the sundering of the elven nation.
The Quinari Palace was far larger than the residence of the Speaker of the Sun in Qualinost, and far more elaborate. Three three-story wings radiated out from a central tower. Three hundred feet tall, the tower was made of rose-veined marble. The wings were faced with colonnades of green marble, and each column had been formed by powerful magic into a graceful spiral, in imitation of a unicorn’s horn.
The honor guard halted and opened ranks. Samcadaris waved Vixa and Gundabyr forward. They mounted a long set of wide steps between double rows of fantastically clad warriors. At the top of the steps, two Silvanesti awaited them, one in armor, helmet, and the swinging gold cape of a marshal of the realm, the other richly robed in midnight blue and wearing a heavy necklace of star sapphires.