“Balif Thraxenath, Chosen Chief of House Protector, First Warrior of the Great Speaker, son of Arnasmir Thraxenath of the Greenrunners clan, and loyal servant of the Great Speaker of the Stars, I greet you,” Silvanos said. His voice was deep and booming, though a lot of its power came from cunning acoustics in the hall.
Though the place was dim, the Moonlight Shaft cast its light on the Speaker’s throne. Mathi got her first good look at the founder of Silvanesti. He was, as his epithet said, golden eyed. Silvanos’s famous eyes were large and almost red in color. His hair was also red-gold and worn very long. He had a strong face but not a handsome one. Silvanos’s nose was long and aquiline, his chin sharp. The height of his ears was truly dramatic. Long of limb, his hands appeared half again as big as Balif’s, who was well built. Mathi got a good impression of the strength of will of the elf, who had forged the proud old line of the elves into a nation. Everything about Silvanos seemed typically elflike but taken to unexpected heights. Even his powerful voice befitted a monarch with an almost godlike command over his people.
“May I pay homage to your sister, the Votress of the Greenwood, and your royal wife?” said Balif. The younger woman smiled winningly. The elder one moved not a muscle.
Mathi felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Before she knew it, she was forced to her knees. Farolenu pushed her down along with Treskan then knelt between them.
“Avert your gaze,” he whispered. Mathi stared at the black floor.
“I have summoned you to undertake a new task of great importance to the nation,” Silvanos said.
“As the Great Speaker commands, so shall I do.”
From her place Mathi was puzzled. How could anyone as wise as Balif agree to a task he hadn’t heard about yet?
“Word has come that an invasion is under way in the eastern lands.”
Silvanos was referring to the land east of the Thon-Tanjan river. A mix of wild woodland and open plains, it was bound on the north by desert and on the east and south by the sea. It had no native population. Silvanos claimed the land for Silvanesti when he first took the crown, but little had been done to enforce the claim. The elves’ attention had been focused on the west, where nomadic humans constantly encroached on Silvanos’s claims to the great central plains.
“Humans?” asked Balif. The east was a long way from the heaviest concentration of barbarians. It was unlikely humans could have migrated across the elves’ northern territory without notice, nor could they cross the desert in any numbers.
“Not just humans,” Silvanos said, leaning back. “Another race … of small stature. My governor says the land is thick with them.”
“Send the army,” Balif said flatly. His tone made the Speaker of the Stars’ face harden like a marble statue.
“The army is engaged elsewhere,” Silvanos snapped. Balif did not shrug, but he might as well have. “I want you to go. Take a small band with you and survey the situation. Having just concluded a twenty-year fight for the west, I do not propose to lose the east by negligence.”
“Is that your order, Great Speaker?”
“It is. Go at once. Find out the truth of the situation, and bring your considered word back to me.”
Balif bowed his head. “It shall be done, Great Speaker. May I draw on the royal stores for supplies?” Silvanos said Farolenu would provide whatever Balif needed for the journey.
“Leave tomorrow,” Silvanos said. “I am anxious to have true knowledge of what’s going on.”
“Is tomorrow soon enough? I can leave tonight, if it please the Great Speaker. Better to meet the invaders as far from the royal city as can be done.”
Silvanos snapped, “You presume a great deal on my affection, my lord general! Save your sharp tongue for others worthy of it. I am not spoken to thus!”
“Forgive me, royal master. I meant no disrespect.”
Balif said the words, but Mathi did not believe him at all. He was mocking Silvanos’s pretense of importance. The mission could be done by any of a thousand reliable warriors. Why send the first general of the realm?
She heard whispers from the throne dais. Peering in that direction, Mathi saw the elder of the two elf women conferring quietly with the Speaker.
Silvanos shifted forward, perching tensely on the edge of his golden chair. “My noble sister reminds me that your wit, like your sword, is in my service too,” he said, trying to control his annoyance and only partially succeeding. “I trust you will use both as I command. Go with the sun, my lord general. May Astarin guard your steps.”
“I thank you, Great Speaker, and the noble votress as well.” Balif bowed low. “I shall return before long with what intelligence I can gather. Health and long life to you, Great Goldeneye.”
“And to you, Balif Thraxenath.”
There was something in the Speaker’s tone that made Mathi’s blood run cold. Anyone could hear the hostility between Balif and Silvanos sparking the very air in the Tower of the Stars. His farewell to the general dripped with irony. Mathi had been awed to enter the Tower of the Stars and look upon the face of the Speaker. After their exchange, what she wanted most of all was to get away, and the sooner the better.
Balif withdrew, shooing the girl, the scribe, and the captain of the guard ahead of him. By the time he’d backtracked to the entrance, Silvanos was deep in conversation with his counselors, ignoring the general’s departure.
When Balif emerged from the tower, the crowd was still there. They roared when he reappeared. Smiling, he raised his hand in greeting.
“Is it wise to encourage such disloyalty here?” asked Farolenu in a low voice.
“These people saved my life,” he replied. “This is gratitude, not disloyalty.”
They descended the steps. The mob surged forward, crushing the royal guards back. Fearing his soldiers would be trampled, the captain ordered his guards to shoulder their arms and give way. Cheering, the elves poured through the sullen warriors like floodwater.
Raising his voice to be heard over the din, Balif said, “I will send over a list of the supplies I need!” Farolenu nodded.
A slim elf girl, dressed all in white, emerged from the tower and darted down the steps. She slipped through the crowd with easy grace and pressed a note into Balif’s hand. Though she came from inside the tower, she continued on past Balif, melting into the throng. Balif cupped his hand around the missive and gave it a quick glance.
“Any answer, my lord?” Treskan asked, stylus poised.
“No. Go home, both of you. Tell Lofotan to prepare for a land voyage of three months’ duration. Have him send his list of needed supplies to Farolenu at House Protector.”
Treskan dutifully took down his commands. When he looked up to ask for more instructions, Balif was gone. The crowd didn’t seem to notice. They cheered the elves remaining on the tower steps. When at last they noticed their hero was gone, the elves peacefully dispersed.
CHAPTER 4
Mathi and Treskan returned to Balif’s desolate mansion. It was not a comfortable journey. She had never been in Silvanost before, and though Treskan vowed he could backtrack on the route they had taken readily enough, they lost their way more than once. On the way to the Tower of the Stars, no one bothered to look at them because they were in the shadow of the great Balif. Going back, they felt like everyone they passed could tell they were strangers in the city. Because they were obviously not from the city, many elves shunned them, ignoring their painfully polite queries for directions. Treskan’s awkward gait and rather coarse appearance caused an arched eyebrow or two, and Mathi’s rustic clerical gown gained looks of aesthetic disapproval, but no one challenged them. No one helped either.