Lord Yesve nodded, and returned his attention to the map.
"Good. Now attend, all of you. We are surrounded by three enemies: the wood elves of the High Forest, Everes-ka, and the human cities of the Silver Marches. I suspect they will object to my creation of a new Siluvanede in the lands they mistakenly regard as theirs. And rather than argue with them about the matter, I mean to retake what is rightfully ours. This is how it shall be done.
"Jasrya, you are to lead the Ilviiri against the High Forest. The Aelorothi and Dhaorothi are also under your command. Your mission is to wipe the wood elf realm from the face of the forest. Destroy their villages, slay their warriors, enslave the young and the weak. Strike quickly, and without mercy. The wood elves are scattered throughout the forest, so keep your warband together, and give them no chance to gather a force large enough to threaten you. I will send Xhalph with you to assist you in your work. These are the descendants of our ancient enemies. Visit on them the vengeance they have earned."
"Thank you, Mother," the daemonfey swordsman growled.
"Lord Mardeiym, you are to take House Reithel; with Floshin, Ulvaerren, Ursequarra, and Almyrrtel; and march on Evereska. I will join you when I am able. It is your task to take the city by whatever means are necessary. You have nearly fifteen hundred fey'ri warriors under your command since I expect you to have the harder fight. I will also dispatch with you a strong force of our demonic allies.
"Lord Breden, you are to lead House Yesve to the eastern end of the Rauvin Vale and keep Silverymoon at bay. I will also give House Ealoeth to you. Your force is the weakest of our three armies, so I do not want you to attack unless you find the humans weaker than I thought. You are simply a screening force to make sure that Silverymoon does not interfere with our capture of Evereska or the scouring of the wood elves from the High Forest."
"As you command, my lady," Breden said with a bow.
"I have laid the groundwork for alliances with orcs, ogres, and such rabble that dwell in the nearer reaches of the Nether Mountains," Sarya continued. "Unfortunately, the phaerimm drove many of these creatures to their deaths against Evereska only a couple of years ago, so the tribes of the mountains are not as strong as I might have hoped. Do not trust these stupid creatures with anything important. Use them as skirmishers and raiders, or, if a chance presents itself, drive them into battle before your fey'ri in order to die in place of our own soldiers. We are strong, but our numbers are not inexhaustible, and we don't want a fey'ri to die when an orc will do.
"When Evereska falls, we will turn Reithel's army back to the north and repel any assault mustering in Silverymoon-or invade that city and raze it, if it lies within our power."
"Do we have sufficient strength to contemplate fighting three foes at once?" Mardeiym Reithel asked. He was a crafty old fighter, veteran of many fiercely fought campaigns in the Seven Citadels' War, and a fervent devotee of the dark powers the daemonfey worshiped.
"If we strike only at one of these enemies, the other two will come to their aid anyway," Sarya replied. "I am confident that we can triumph over the wood elves and
Evereska quickly. Once we have won our battles in those places, I believe that the humans of Silverymoon will see little reason to continue fighting." She studied the rest of the fey'ri, noting the glowing eyes, the feral grins. After five thousand years of magical slumber, her legions were eager to fight for her again. "Go back to your Houses and ready your warriors to fly. I mean to march at once."
CHAPTER 6
1 Ches, the Year of Lightning Storms
Araevin decided to wait at Daggerford for two days, on the chance that Theleda or even Darthen might turn up, or at least send word. In the early hours, while the humans slept, he and Ilsevele braved the bitter weather to ride or walk the countryside around the settlement. The afternoons and evenings they spent in the common room of the Dragonback, trading tales with Grayth or digesting news of distant lands from the caravan masters and traders who passed through the town.
Late in the evening of the second night, as the Dragonback's evening crowd was beginning to disperse, Araevin and his companions looked over a map of the Sword Coast over steaming goblets of mulled wine. He intended to set out on his quest soon, and he was taking the opportunity to study the roads leading south. He could feel the second telkiira in that direction, tugging at the back of his mind like something he had forgotten.
"Which one of you is Araevin Teshurr?"
Araevin and the others looked up, and found a young woman standing at the end of their table. She was a strikingly unusual person, her skin as pale as snow, almost a frosty blue in places. Her eyes were large and violet, and her hair was silver-white and long, streaming softly from her head as if she stood in a gentle breeze-though the smoke simply hung in the rafters of the tavern without so much as a hint of motion. Tall and graceful, she wore high leather boots, black breeches, and a soft quilted doublet over a shirt of white silk.
"Well?" she asked.
"I am Araevin Teshurr," Araevin replied. "And you are-?"
"I am Maresa Rost. Theleda Rost was my mother." Without awaiting an invitation, the pale woman dropped herself into a seat beside Ilsevele, and fixed her startling purple eyes on the others in the company. "You must be Grayth Holmfast. I don't know who you are, or you," she said, looking at Ilsevele and Brant in turn.
"Theleda's daughter?" Araevin could not keep the surprise from his voice.
Theleda had a daughter? he thought.
Theleda had been the first to leave the company, a couple of years before their last travels, so there might be as much as twenty years during which she could have had a child.
"Yes, we went over that already," Maresa said. She poured herself a large helping of their wine. "My mother told me a few stories about her old adventures. You were two of the Company of the White Star, weren't you?"
Araevin studied the young woman closely. She had Theleda's pointed chin and heart-shaped face, but her coloration was so odd…
"Excuse my surprise," Araevin said, "but Theleda is human, and you are-I hope you will forgive me, I am not sure what kindred you belong to. I do not think I have ever seen someone like you."
The young woman snorted softly and replied, "Well, there are not many like me. I am a genasi. Theleda was human, of course. My father was a being of the elemental planes. The plane of elemental air, or so I understand, which is why I look as I do. It was an unusual romance, I suppose, and I understand it did not last long."
Araevin shook his head. Who would have thought? Then something Maresa had said resurfaced.
"One moment. Theleda isn't-?"
"Theleda was murdered last summer," Maresa said. "One of her business rivals had her assassinated."
Araevin sat back, his heart aching. First Belmora, then Theleda too? She had always been abrasive, arrogant, armed with too sharp a wit, perhaps. But they had shared many dangers together.
"Our company is growing smaller by the day, Grayth," he said softly.
The cleric replied, "I am sorry to hear it, but the news does not surprise me. Such things happen in Theleda's line of work." He looked over to Maresa. "I am sorry for your loss. Are you well? I mean, are you in any danger from those who killed Theleda? We may be able to help."