“Fall back!” he shouted. “Fall back!”
Four warriors were able to comply. The other six were either dead or seriously wounded.
The monster let out a howl and stamped its feet. It flung the bodies of fallen warriors at Kith-Kanan and the survivors, a hideous gesture of contempt. Panting, sweating in the chill mountain air, the warriors clustered around their Speaker.
“We must kill it!” Kith-Kanan said grimly. “Otherwise its wings will heal, and it will be able to fly away.”
A sharp whistle caught the Speaker’s ear. He looked up at the peak, toward the source of the sound, and saw Rufus Wrinklecap, Verhanna, and some of the warriors who had entered the cave. They were standing in several higher tunnel mouths, forty feet above the Speaker.
Verhanna raised a hand, and the warriors in the caves began to shower the beast with stones and debris from inside the peak. The wyvern hissed loudly and leapt at them. Even with numerous lance wounds, it was able to jump three-quarters of the distance to the caves. On the third such leap, the monster dug its four clawed feet into the rocks and clung there. With its injured wings tightly furled against its body, the wyvern started to climb.
Kith-Kanan’s heart leapt when he spied Greenhands at one of the cave openings. His son lived, praise the gods! In his hands, he held a loop of rope. All the others in the high caves had weapons of some kind, but not Greenhands. What was he up to?
The Speaker and the remaining elves on horseback sat ready, lances couched. Slowly the beast clawed its way up the peak, its talons leaving gray streaks on the black rock. Loose stones and pieces of Drulethen’s furniture thudded off its head and body from above. Thick, horny eyelids blinked shut every time an object hurtled at the wyvern’s eyes. Sword in hand, Kemian appeared in the tunnel mouth next to Greenhands.
“The monster will cut them to pieces in those tunnels,” said one of the mounted warriors. “Shouldn’t we go in and help them?”
“Stand your ground,” Kith-Kanan said sternly. “Lord Ambrodel knows what he’s doing.” In fact, the Speaker was extremely worried, but he had to trust his general’s judgment.
Greenhands leaned far out of the cave opening, the loop of rope in his hand. The wyvern was only a few feet below, its attention on those hurling debris at it. The others suddenly ceased their attacks and withdrew deeper into their caves. Hissing and howling, the wyvern raised its head to see what they were doing and Greenhands dropped the loop of rope over its head, like a herder roping a wild bull. He and Kemian leaned hard on the rope, and it pulled taut around the monster’s neck. The wyvern flung its head from side to side, trying to break the line. When that failed, it snapped its jaws in a vain attempt to catch the rope in them.
The beast decided to continue on in the direction it was being pulled. Greenhands and Kemian disappeared inside the tunnel just as the wyvern reached their level. The long, green-black neck snaked into the cave. All at once, the wyvern’s four legs were scrabbling furiously on the peak and at the tunnel mouth, trying to find purchase. Its hideous shrieking cry echoed through the mountains. The massive muscles in its back arched as it tried to pull its head out of the tunnel. Kith-Kanan’s breath caught when he saw blood washing out of the cave.
The violent scratching of the monster’s limbs continued for a moment, and then it fell. The enormous beast hit the ground, and the impact shook the earth all around. Its legs continued to thrash and claw at nothing, and Kith-Kanan saw why. The wyvern had left its head inside Black Stone Peak.
They kept away from the raging, headless corpse until its dark blood had all leaked out. Its legs continued to twitch slightly. Kith-Kanan rode forward and drove his lance through the monster’s heart. That put an end once and for all to the wyvern, and it lay unmoving.
Verhanna emerged with Rufus and the other warriors. Kith-Kanan asked, “Where’s Greenhands? And Lord Ambrodel?”
“Here!” came the shout from above. Kith-Kanan looked up. Greenhands stood at the high cave entrance. He was covered with blood and held the head of the wyvern in both hands. As everyone watched, he hurled the head to the ground.
When Greenhands came out of Black Stone Peak, he moved slowly, carrying Lord Ambrodel in his arms. Two warriors came and relieved him of his burden.
“What happened?” asked Kith-Kanan, rushing to his son’s side.
“The creature smashed him against the wall,” Greenhands replied softly. “He has something broken….” The green-fingered elf’s legs folded beneath him, and he would have dropped to the ground but for his father’s quick arms.
Verhanna ran to them. “He breathes,” she reported anxiously. “I think he just passed out.”
“No wonder,” observed Rufus. “After seeing Lord Kemian cut that monster’s head off!”
The young general coughed and lifted a feeble hand, “No,” he said in a scratchy voice. “I didn’t kill the monster. He did.”
The wounded were cared for, and the dead were placed on a funeral pyre. Six young elf warriors had died in the fight, and Lord Ambrodel’s life was hanging in the balance. Rufus bathed Greenhands with a bucket of water and found that, for all the black blood on him, he hadn’t any wounds at all.
The wyvern’s body was too heavy to move, so they piled what tinder they could find against it where it lay. The broken furniture from inside the peak proved useful, as did the lamp oil. Soon the beast was in the center of a roaring bonfire. As the sun passed its zenith, coils of oily black smoke darkened the sky, spreading an evil smell over the high mountains.
That deed done, the warriors dropped into an exhausted slumber. Kith-Kanan drew Ulvian and Verhanna a little away from the group.
“I have some news for you,” he began, feeling a little uncertain how to go on.
Ulvian tensed. Verhanna glanced at him and then back at the Speaker. “What is it, Father?” she asked, her face serious.
Kith-Kanan looked toward Greenhands, who’d been sleeping since his battle with the wyvern. A feeling of tenderness warmed the Speaker’s heart. Anaya’s son. This elf was his and Anaya’s son.
“I suppose there’s no other way to say it than simply to say it,” he said briskly. “Ullie, Hanna…Greenhands is my son.”
Verhanna’s jaw dropped in shock, but Ulvian’s face remained as still as stone. Only the brightness of his hazel eyes betrayed his surprise.
“He’s your what?” Verhanna exploded. Kith-Kanan passed a weary hand across his brow. “You deserve the whole story. I know you do. Just now, though, I am weary to the bone,” their father sighed. “Greenhands is the son of my first wife, a Kagonesti. I think the marvels of these last days were signs of his coming.” He put a gentle hand on Verhanna’s arm and was surprised to feel her trembling. “I know it’s a shock, Hanna. It was to me, too. I’ll explain everything later, I promise. It’s been an eventful day.”
With a fond pat on her cheek, the Speaker moved back among the sleeping warriors. He lay down near Greenhands, and in no time he was gently snoring.
Verhanna was astonished. Her brother! Greenhands was her brother! All at once, the absurdity of the situation struck her. After not thinking of marriage for centuries, now she chose a mate who turned out to be her own brother! The warrior maiden vented her spleen on a handy boulder, kicking the rock with all her might. All she succeeded in doing was making her foot sore. She simply couldn’t think about this right now. She was worn out from battle and from all the worrying she’d done on behalf of her father and Green—her half-brother. Gods, it was too unbelievable!