“Can this be him? How much he’s changed!” Sithas, with a sense of awe, took his son in his arms while the crowd quieted. Indeed, the elfin child was much larger than when they had departed, nearly half a year earlier. His blond hair grew thick upon his scalp. As his tiny eyes looked toward his father, Vanesti’s face broke into a brilliant smile.
For several moments, Sithas seemed unable to speak. Hermathya came to him and very gently took the child. Turning away from her husband, her gaze briefly met Kith-Kanan’s. He was startled by the look he saw there. It was cool and vacant, as if he did not exist. It had been many weeks since he had thought of her, but this expression provoked a brief, angry flash of jealousy—and, at the same time, a reminder of his guilt.
“Come—to the palace, everyone!” Sithas shouted, throwing an arm around his brother’s shoulders. “Tonight there will be a feast for all the city! Let word be spread immediately! Summon the bards. We have a tale for them to hear and to spread across the nation!”
The news carried through the city as fast as the cry could pass from lips to ear, and all the elves of Silvanost prepared to celebrate the return of the royal heirs. Butchers slaughtered prime pigs, casks of wine rumbled forth from the cellars, and colorful lanterns swiftly sprouted, as if by magic, from every tree, lamppost, and gate in the city. The festivities began immediately, and the citizenry danced in the streets and sang the great songs of the elven nation. Meanwhile, Sithas and Kith-Kanan joined Lord Regent Quimant and Lord Chamberlain Tamanier Ambrodel in a small audience chamber. The regent looked at the chamberlain with some surprise and turned to Sithas with a questioning look. When the Speaker of the Stars said nothing, Quimant cleared his throat and spoke awkwardly.
“Excellency, perhaps the lord chamberlain should join us after the conclusion of this conference. After all, some of the items I have to report are of the most confidential nature.” He paused, as if embarrassed to continue.
“Indeed, in this nearly half a year that you have been absent, I must report that the lord chamberlain has not in fact been present in the capital. He only returned recently, from his family estates. Apparently matters of his clan’s business interests took precedence over affairs of state.”
“Tamanier Ambrodel has my complete confidence. Indeed,” Sithas replied,
“we may find that he has reports to make as well.”
“Of course, my lord,” Quimant said quickly, with a deep bow. Quimant immediately started to fill them in on the events that had occurred during their absence.
“First, Sithelbec still stands as strong as ever.” The lord of Clan Oakleaf anticipated Kith-Kanan’s most urgent question. “A messenger from the fortress broke through the lines a few weeks past, bringing word that the defenders have repulsed every attempt to
storm the walls.”
“Good. It is as I hoped,” Kith replied. Nevertheless he was relieved.
“However, the pressure is increasing. We have word of a team of dwarven engineers—Theiwar, apparently—aiding the humans in excavating siege works against the walls. Also, the number of wild elves throwing in their lot with Ergoth is increasing steadily. There are more than a thousand of them, and apparently they have been formed into a ‘free elf company’.”
“Fighting their own people?” Sithas was aghast at the notion. His face reddened with controlled fury.
“More and more of them have questioned the right of Silvanost to rule them. And an expedition of the wild elves of the Kagonesti arrived here shortly after you left to plead for an end to the bloodshed.”
“The ignoble scum!” Sithas rose to his feet and stalked across the chamber before whirling to face Quimant. Vivid lines of anger marred his face. “What did you tell them?”
“Nothing,” Quimant replied, his own face displaying a smug grin. “They have spent the winter in your dungeon. Perhaps you’d care to speak to them yourself!”
“Good.” Sithas nodded approvingly. “We can’t have this kind of demonstration. We’ll make an example of them to discourage any further treachery.”
Kith-Kanan faced his brother. “Don’t you want to—at the very least—hear what they have to say?”
Sithas looked at him as if he spoke a different language. “Why? They’re traitors, that’s obvious! Why should we—”
“Traitors? They have come here to talk. The traitors are those who have joined the enemy out of hand! We need to ask questions!”
“I find it astonishing that you, of all of us, should take this approach,” Sithas said softly. “You are the one who has to carry out our plans, the one whose life is most at risk. Can you not understand that these ... elves"—Sithas spat the word as if it were anathema—“should be dealt with quickly and ruthlessly?”
“If they are indeed traitors, of course! But you can take the trouble to hear them first, to find out if they are in fact treacherous or simply honest citizens living in danger and fear!”
Sithas and Kith-Kanan glowered at each other like fierce strangers. Tamanier Ambrodel quietly watched the exchange. He had offered no opinion on any topic as yet, and he felt that this was not the time to interject his view. Lord Quimant, however, was more forthright.
“General, Excellency, please . . . there are more details. Some of the news is urgent.” The lord stood and raised his hands.
Sithas nodded and collapsed into his chair. Kith-Kanan remained standing, turning expectantly toward the lord regent.
“Word out of Thorbardin arrived barely a fortnight ago. The ambassador, Than-Kar of the Theiwar clan, reported it to me in a most unpleasant and arrogant tone. His king, he claims, has ruled this to be a war between the humans and elves. The dwarves are determined to remain neutral.”
“No troops? They will send us nothing?” Kith-Kanan stared at Quimant, appalled. Just when he had begun to see a glimmer of hope on the military horizon, to get news like this! Nothing could be more disastrous. The general slowly slumped into his chair, trying unsuccessfully to fight a rising wave of nausea.
Shaking his head in shock, he looked at his brother, expecting to see the same sense of dismay written across Sithas’s face. Instead, however, the speaker’s eyes had narrowed in an inscrutable expression. Didn’t he understand?
“This is catastrophic!” Kith-Kanan exclaimed, angry that the Speaker didn’t seem to grasp this basic fact. “Without the dwarves, we are doomed to be terribly outnumbered in every battle. Even with the griffons, we can’t prevail against a quarter of a million men!”
“Indeed,” Sithas agreed calmly. Finally he spoke to Ambrodel. “And your own mission, my lord, does that bear this information out?” Lord Quimant gave a start when he realized that Sithas was addressing Ambrodel.
“Rather dramatically not, Excellency,” Ambrodel replied softly. Kith-Kanan and Lord Quimant both stared at the chamberlain in mixed astonishment.
“I regret the subterfuge, my lords. The Speaker of the Stars instructed me to reveal my mission to no one, to report only to him.”
“There was no reason to say anything—not until now,” Sithas said. Once again, the others felt that commanding tone in his voice that brought all discussion to an abrupt halt. “If the lord chamberlain will continue . . .?”
“Of course, Your Excellency.” Ambrodel turned to include them all in his explanation. “I have wintered in the dwarven kingdom of Thorbardin.”
“What?” Quimant’s jaw dropped. Kith-Kanan remained silent, but his lips compressed into a tight smile as he began to appreciate his brother’s wiliness.
“It had been the Speaker’s assessment, very early on, that Ambassador Than-Kar was not doing an appropriately thorough job of maintaining open and honest communication between our two realms.”
“I see,” Quimant said, with a formal nod.
“Indeed, as events have developed, our esteemed leader’s assessment has been proven to be accurate.”