“Than-Kar has deliberately sabotaged our negotiations?” demanded Kith.
“Blatantly. King Hal-Waith has long backed our cause, as it was presented to him by Dunbarth Ironthumb upon that ambassador’s return home. Than-Kar’s original mission had been to report to us the king’s intent to send twenty-five thousand troops to aid our cause.”
“But I saw no sign of these troops on the plain. There is no word of them now, is there?” Kith-Kanan probed.
Quimant shook his head. “No—and certainly reports would have reached Silvanost had they marched during the winter.”
“They did not march, not then,” continued Ambrodel. “The offer of aid came with several conditions attached, conditions which Than-Kar reported to his king that we were unwilling to accept.”
“Conditions?” Now Kith was concerned. “What conditions?”
“Fairly reasonable, under the circumstances. The dwarves recognize you as overall commander of the army, but they will not allow their own units to be broken up into smaller detachments—and dwarven units will work only under dwarven leaders.”
“Those commanders presumably answerable to me under battle conditions?” Kith-Kanan asked.
“Yes,” Ambrodel nodded.
The elven general couldn’t believe his ears. Dwarven fighting prowess and tactical mastery were legendary. And twenty-five thousand such warriors . . . why, if they fought alongside griffon cavalry, the siege of Sithelbec might be lifted in a long afternoon of fighting!
“There were some other minor points, also very reasonable. Bodies to be shipped to Thorbardin for burial, dwarven holidays honored, a steady supply of ale maintained, and so on. I do not anticipate any objection on your part.”
“Of course not!” Kith-Kanan sprang to his feet again, this time in excitement. Then he remembered the obstruction presented by Than-Kar, and his mood darkened. “Have you concluded the deal? Must we still work through the ambassador? How long—”
Ambrodel smiled and held up his hands. “The army was mustering as I left. For all I know, they have already emerged from the underground realm. They would march, I was promised, when the snowmelt in the Kharolis Mountains allowed free passage.” The chamberlain shivered as he remembered the long, dark winter he spent there. “It never gets warm in Thorbardin. You’re always damp and squinting through the dark. By the gods, who knows how the dwarves can stand living underground?”
“And the ambassador?” This time Sithas asked the question. Once again those lines of anger tightened his face as he pondered the extent of Than-Kar’s duplicity.
“King Hal-Waith would consider it a personal favor if we were to place him under arrest, detaining him until such time as the next dwarven mission arrives. It should be here sometime during the summer.”
“Any word on numbers? On their march route?” Tactics already swirled through Kith-Kanan’s head.
Ambrodel pursed his lips and shook his head. “Only the name of the commander, whom I trust will meet with your approval.”
“Dunbarth Ironthumb?” Kith-Kanan was hopeful.
“None other.”
“That is good news!” That dignified statesman had been the brightest element of the otherwise frustrating councils between Thorbardin, Silvanesti, and Ergoth. The ambassador from the dwarven nation had retained a sense of humor and self-deprecating whimsy that had lightened many an otherwise tedious session of negotiation.
“Where am I to join him?” Kith-Kanan asked. “Shall I take Arcuballis and fly to Thorbardin itself?”
Ambrodel shook his head. “I don’t think you could. The gates remain carefully hidden.”
“But surely you could direct me! Didn’t you say that you have been there?”
“Indeed,” the chamberlain agreed with a nod. He coughed awkwardly. “But to tell you the truth, I never saw the gates, nor could I describe the approach to you or to anyone.”
“How did you get in, then?”
“It’s a trifle embarrassing, actually. I spent nearly a month floundering around in the mountains, seeking a trail or a road or any kind of sign of the gate. I found nothing. Finally, however, I was met in my camp by a small band of dwarven scouts. Apparently they keep an eye on the perimeter and were watching my hapless movements, wondering what I was up to.”
“But you must have entered through the gate,” Kith said.
“Indeed,” nodded Ambrodel. “But I spent the two days of the approach—two very long days, I might add—stumbling along with a blindfold over my eyes.”
“That’s an outrage!” barked Quimant, stiffening in agitation. “An insult to our race!”
Sithas, too, scowled. Only Kith-Kanan reacted with a thin smile and a nod of understanding. “With treachery among their own people, it only seems a natural precaution,” the elven general remarked. That lessened the tension, and Ambrodel nodded in reluctant agreement.
“Excellency,” inquired Quimant, with careful formality. It was obvious that the lord regent was annoyed by not having been apprised of the secret negotiations. “This is indeed a most splendid development, but was it necessary to retain such a level of secrecy? Perhaps I could have aided the cause had I been kept informed.”
“Indeed, quite true, my good cousin-in-law. There was no fear that the knowledge would have been misplaced in you—save this one. In your position as regent, you are the one who has spent the greatest amount of time with Than-Kar. It was essential that the ambassador not know of this plan, and I felt that the safest way to keep you from a revealing slip—inadvertent, of course—was to withhold the knowledge from you. The decision was mine alone.”
“I cannot question the Speaker’s wisdom,” replied the noble humbly. “This is a most encouraging turn of events.” * * * * *
Kith left the meeting in order to arrange for the postings around the city. He wanted all Silvanost to quickly learn of the call for volunteers. He intended to personally interview and test all applicants for the griffon cavalry. Sithas remained behind, with Quimant and Ambrodel, to attend to matters of government. “As to the city, how has it fared in our absence?” Quimant informed him of other matters: weapons production was splendid, with a great stockpile of arms gathered; refugees from the plains had stopped coming to Silvanost—a fact that had greatly eased the tensions and crowding within the city; the higher taxes that Sithas had decreed, in order to pay for the war, had been collected with only a few minor incidents.
“There has been some violence along the waterfront. The city guard has confronted Than-Kar’s escorts on more than one occasion. We’ve had several elves badly injured and one killed during these brawls.”
“The Theiwar?” guessed Sithas.
“Indeed. The primary troublemakers can be found among the officers of Than-Kar’s guard, as if they want to create an incident.” Quimant’s disgust with the dwarves was apparent in his sarcastic tone.
We’ll deal with them . . . when the time is right. We’ll wait till Kith-Kanan forms his cavalry and departs for the west.”
“I’m certain he’ll have no shortage of volunteers. There are many noble elves who had resisted the call to arms, as it applies to the infantry,” said Lord Quimant. “They’ll leap at the chance to form an elite unit, especially with the threat of conscription hanging over their heads!”
“We’ll keep news of Thorbardin’s commitment secret,” Sithas added. “Not a word of it is to leave this room. In the meantime, tell me about the additional troops for the infantry. How fares the training of the new regiments?”
“We have five thousand elves under arms, ready to march when you give the command.”
“I had hoped for more.”
Quimant hemmed and hawed. “The sentiment in the city is not wholly in favor of the war. Our people do not seem to grasp the stakes here.”