The Lioness bent over the runner, giving her more water. Gilthas was numb. He felt nothing. The news was too enormous to comprehend. Standing there, trying to make sense of this, he noticed that the runner’s feet were bruised and bloody.
She had worn out her boots, run the last miles barefoot. He could feel nothing for his people, but her pain and heroism moved him to tears. Angrily, he blinked them away. He could not give in to grief, not now. He strode forward, determined to talk to Alhana.
Samar saw Gilthas coming and made a move as if to intercept him. Gilthas gave Samar a look that plainly said the man could try, but he might have a tough time doing it. After a moment’s hesitation, Samar backed off.
“Queen Alhana,” said Gilthas.
She lifted her face, that was streaked with tears. “Spare me your gloating,” she said, her voice low and wretched.
“This is no time to speak of who was right and who was wrong,” Gilthas said quietly. “If we had stayed to lay siege to Silvanesti, as I counseled, we would all probably be dead right now or slaves in the belly of a minotaur galley.” He rested his hand gently on her arm, was shocked to feel her cold and shivering. “As it is, our army is strong and intact. It will take some time for the armies of our enemies to entrench themselves. We can return and attack, take them by surprise—”
“No,” said Alhana. She clasped her arms around her body, set her teeth and, through sheer effort of will, forced herself to stop shaking. “No, we will continue on to Sanction. Don’t you see? If we help the human armies conquer Sanction, they will be honor-bound to help us free our homeland, drive out the invaders.”
“Why should they?” he asked sharply. “What reason would humans have to die for us?”
“Because we will help them fight for Sanction!” Alhana stated.
“Would we be doing that if your son were not being held prisoner inside Sanction’s walls?” Gilthas demanded.
Alhana’s skin, cheeks, lips were all one, all ashen. Her dark eyes seemed the only living part of her, and they were smudged with shadow.
“We Silvanesti will march to Sanction,” she said. She did not look at him. She stared southward, as if she could see through the mountains and into her lost homeland. “You Qualinesti may do what you like.”
Turning from him, she said to Samar. “Summon our people. I must speak to them.” She walked away, tall, straight-backed, shoulders squared.
“Do you agree with this?” Gilthas demanded of Samar as he started to follow her. Samar cast Gilthas a look that might have been a backhanded blow across the face, and Gilthas realized he had been wrong to ask. Alhana was Samar’s queen and his commander. He would die before he questioned any decision she made. Gilthas had never before felt so utterly frustrated, so helpless. He was filled with raging anger that had no outlet.
“We have no homeland,” he said, turning to Planchet. “No homeland at all. We are exiles, people without a country. Why can’t she see that? Why can’t she understand?”
“I think she does,” said Planchet. “For her, attacking Sanction is the answer.”
“The wrong answer,” said Gilthas.
Elven healers came to tend to the runner, treating her wounds with herbs and potions, and they shooed the Wilder elf away. The Lioness walked over to join him.
“What are we doing?”
“Marching to Sanction,” Gilthas said grimly. “Did the runner have any news of our people?”
“She said that there were rumors they had managed to escape Silvanesti, flee back into the Plains of Dust.”
“Where they will most certainly not be welcome.” Gilthas sighed deeply. “The Plainspeople warned us of that.”
He stood, troubled. He wanted desperately to return to his people, and he realized now that the anger he was feeling was aimed at himself. He should have followed his instincts, remained with his people, not marched off on this ill-fated campaign.
“I was wrong, as well. I opposed you. I am sorry, my husband,” said the Lioness remorsefully.
“But don’t punish yourself. You could not have stopped the invasion.”
“At least I could be with our people now,” he said bitterly. “Sharing their trouble, if nothing else.”
He wondered what he should do. He longed to go back, but the way would be hard and dangerous, and the odds were he would never make it alone. If he took away Qualinesti warriors, he would leave Alhana’s force sadly depleted. He might cause dissension in the ranks, for some Silvanesti would certainly want to return to their homes. At this time, more than any other, the elves needed to be united.
A shout rang from the rear, then another and another, all up and down the line. Alhana stopped in the midst of her speech, turned to look. The cries were coming from every direction now, thundering down on them like the rocks of an avalanche.
“Ogres!”
“What direction?” the Lioness called out to one of her scouts.
“All directions!” he cried and pointed.
Their line of march had carried the elves into a small, narrow valley, surrounded by high cliffs. Now, as they looked, the cliffs came alive. Thousands of huge, hulking figures appeared along the heights, stared down at the elves, and waited in silence for the order to start the killing.
26
The Judgment
The gods of Krynn met once again in council. The gods of light stood opposite the gods of darkness, as day stands opposite night, with the gods of neutrality divided evenly in between. The gods of magic stood together, and in their midst was Raistlin Majere. Paladine nodded, and the mage stepped forward.
Bowing, he said simply, “I have been successful.”
The gods stared in wordless astonishment, all except the gods of magic, who exchanged smiles, their thoughts in perfect accord.
“How was this accomplished?” Paladine asked at last.
“My task was not easy,” Raistlin said. “The currents of chaos swirl about the universe. The magic is wayward and unwieldy. I no more set my hand upon it than it slides through my fingers. When the kender used the device, I managed to seize hold of him and wrench him back into the past, where the winds of chaos blow less fiercely. I was able to keep Tas there long enough for him to have a sense of where he was before the magic whipped away from me and I lost him. I knew where to look for him, however, and thus, when next he used the device, I was ready. I took him to a time we both recognized, and he began to know me. Finally, I carried him to the present. Past and present are now linked. You have only to follow the one, and it will lead you to the other.”
“What do you see?” Paladine asked Zivilyn.
“I see the world,” said Zivilyn softly, tears misting his eyes. “I see the past, and I see the present, and I see the future.”
“Which future?” asked Mishakal.
“The path the world walks now,” Zivilyn replied.
“Then it is not possible to alter it?” Mishakal asked.
“Of course, it is possible,” said Raistlin caustically. “We may all yet cease to exist.”
“You mean that the blasted kender is not yet dead?” Sargonnas growled.
“He is not. The power of Queen Takhisis has grown immense. If you are to have any hope of defeating her, Tasslehoff has yet one important task to accomplish with the Device of Time Journeying. If he accomplishes this task—”
“—he must be sent back to die,” said Sargonnas.
“He will be given the choice,” Paladine corrected. “He will not be forced back or sent against his wishes. He has freedom of will, as do all living beings upon Krynn. We cannot deny that to him, just because it suits our convenience.”
“Suits our convenience!” Sargonnas roared. “He could destroy us all!”