“Quietly, now!” he answered them. “Let’s keep the daemonfey guessing about our whereabouts instead of shouting out where we are.”
The Evereskans passed into the tree-shadow, vanishing in the gloom. Behind them rode a large contingent of Seiveril’s own Silver Guards, who saluted both him and their captain Edraele. Seiveril watched them pass, and Starbrow joined him, riding up from the rear of the column. The moon elf looked over the march and nodded in approval.
“We’ll be on the other side of the Vale of Lost Voices by sunset,” he said.
“I suppose Sarya has decided to wait for us in Myth Drannor,” Edraele observed. “Still, I’d like to be sure of that. With your permission, I think I’ll catch up to my company and see to our scouts.” Seiveril nodded to her, and the small moon elf tapped her heels to her horse’s flanks and cantered after the Silver Guard.
“We should make sure to provide the Sembians with plenty of guides for their crossing of the Vale,” Seiveril thought aloud. “I doubt that their rear guard or siege train will make it all the way across before sunset, and I would not want the guardians of the place to mistake our human allies for enemies.”
“Easier said than done. More than a few of those who rest in the Vale died fighting the Sembians’ forebears. Human armies in Cormanthor rouse old and watchful spirits.” Starbrow fell silent, and watched the Crusade’s companies and banners glide swiftly by without further comment.
“Something troubles you, old friend,” Seiveril finally said. “What is it?”
The moon elf looked down at the reins in his hands. “Seiveril, there is something I need to tell you.”
Something in his friend’s voice warned Seiveril that he would not like what followed. He turned his mount in a half-circle so that he faced the tall moon elf, and looked into his face. Starbrow avoided his eyes, instead looking out over the Crusade marching past.
“What is it, my friend?” Seiveril asked.
“Not here.” Starbrow glanced around at the elf guards who watched nearby, and led Seiveril a short distance away. When they were out of easy earshot of the other elves, he looked around one more time, and took a deep breath. “I don’t even know how to say what I have to say,” he muttered, more to himself than to the elflord.
“For what it’s worth, I’ve often found that it’s easiest to just come right out and say the thing you’re most afraid to say.”
“I know it.” Starbrow wrestled with himself a little longer, and he brought his eyes up to Seiveril’s. “I have fallen in love with Ilsevele. And I think she is in love with me, as well.”
Seiveril simply stared at Starbrow. He had heard every word clearly enough, but taken together they didn’t make sense. “I do not understand,” he managed.
“I don’t either. I did not mean to, Seiveril. It just… happened.”
“She is betrothed to Araevin, Starbrow. They are to be married.”
“I know.”
“Well, then, you must be mistaken,” Seiveril said. The more he thought about it, the more confusing he found the whole conversation. “I know you have shared many dangers with her in the last few tendays. Perhaps you have misconstrued something she said or did. It happens all the time.”
Starbrow sighed and looked away. “I know my own heart, Seiveril. I don’t think I’m mistaken about what I feel there.”
“Have you said anything to Ilsevele about… this?”
“I don’t think I’ve made myself clear, Seiveril. Ilsevele and I both feel this way. She has given me her heart, and I have given her mine.” Starbrow looked away to the east, and Seiveril followed his gaze. She was there, somewhere, riding alongside Selkirk by the Sembian banner. “When I look into her eyes, my spirit sings. And I see something in her eyes that tells me she feels the same way, and I feel like I want to leap into the sky and fly. How could I be mistaken about something like that?”
“But Ilsevele is so young,” Seiveril protested. “I am her father, and you are centuries older than me. I know that doesn’t mean much for our people, but still…”
“I’ve lived about one hundred and thirty years, Seiveril. I may have walked in Arvandor for centuries, but now the Elvenhome is only a dream to me. I can’t remember it anymore.”
Seiveril shook his head. What did I expect when I called him back to life after so long? he asked himself. He was not just a hero in a story, after all. He was a living man, and life has its own tumbling and crooked course to it. No one knows where it might lead from one moment to the next. He realized that Starbrow was waiting for him to speak, and he sighed.
“Starbrow, I do not know what to say. I did not foresee this.”
Starbrow found the confidence to look Seiveril in the eye again. “I want your blessing, Seiveril.” He waved his hand at the warriors marching past. “This war will end someday, and I might live through it. If I do, I think that my path will lead me to Ilsevele’s side… and hers to mine. I need to know that you approve.”
“Approve?” Seiveril said hoarsely. “Starbrow, you have known each other only for a single short season. Ilsevele has already promised herself to Araevin. He is a fine man, and they have waited many years for the day of their marriage to come. And you were married too, were you not? It seems hard to approve of something that seems, well, impetuous at the least.”
“I can’t tell you what has passed between Ilsevele and Araevin. I suppose you will have to ask her if you want to know.” Starbrow shrugged awkwardly. “As far as my own marriage, Sorenna survived me by a century or more. She took another husband after the Weeping War, Seiveril. Death parted us, you might say. And I think that when she finally came to Arvandor, we did not walk together any longer.”
Seiveril thought of Ilyyela, his own wife. He had reached out to speak to her spirit in Arvandor, hoping to bring her back to life, but she had refused to come back. He knew with the certainty of the stars in their firmament that she waited for him in the Elvenhome, and that they would be together there when his own work in Faerun was done. He looked at Starbrow, his friend and comrade-in-arms, and he saw in the moon elf’s eyes the shadow of an old pain indeed. How happy would I be in Arvandor if Ilyyela loved another? Seiveril asked himself.
“In Myth Glaurach, you told me that I hadn’t been called back to fight one battle,” Starbrow said. “You told me that I had been called back to live, for as long as chance dictates. When I look in Ilsevele’s eyes, I know why I came back. I came back to meet her, even if I didn’t know it the night you summoned me from Arvandor.”
“Enough.” Seiveril raised his hand, forestalling Starbrow’s words. “It is still too unexpected, Starbrow. And this does not seem to be the time-”
“Lord Miritar! Lord Miritar!”
Seiveril looked around behind him. Edraele Muirreste galloped back down the forest road, standing in her stirrups. She waved to him as soon as she caught sight of his banner.
“Selkirk of Sembia asks for you. The daemonfey await us in the Vale!”
Starbrow glanced at him, and back to the captain of the Silver Guard. “How strong are they, Edraele?” Starbrow called.
“Two thousand or more. The fey’ri legion is there, along with many demons and devils!”
“I suppose we’ll have to speak about Ilsevele later.” Seiveril grimaced, realizing that he was actually grateful for the opportunity to turn his attention to less confusing matters. “I did not expect Sarya to make a stand outside Myth Drannor’s walls.”
Starbrow shrugged. “I had a feeling we weren’t going to get to Myth Drannor without a fight.”
As it turned out, Araevin’s teleport spell was very nearly a fatal mistake.
Instead of conjuring himself and his friends safely to the cavelike sanctuary near the top of the Long Stair, he botched it badly. The small company was scattered for a mile or more in the lightless dark. Araevin himself appeared alone a good six or seven feet in the air above the narrow roadway, and gave his knee a painful wrench on landing. Jorin and Donnor arrived in the sanctuary, but Nesterin was half a mile distant in the opposite direction and wound up clinging to the ledge with white-knuckled hands, having been dropped right at the edge of the awful precipice. And Maresa herself did actually appear out in the middle of the dreadful space, but fortunately arrested her fall with her elemental gifts. They all finally found their way to the small, cold cave above the abyss, warded by the best spell shields Araevin could manage with the last of his strength.