Read Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun Online
Authors: Margaret Weis
send your head to the dragon."
Kalindas gasped. Kelevandros gave a hoarse shout and
lunged at Medan, grappling for his throat with his bare hands.
"Stop, Kelevandros!" Laurana ordered, throwing herself be-
tween the elf and the marshal. "This will not help! Stop this
madness!"
Kelevandros fell back, panting, glaring at Medan with hatred.
Kalindas took hold of his brother's arm, but Kelevandros angrily
shook him off.
"Come, madam," said Marshal Medan. He offered Laurana
his arm. The torch smoked and sputtered. Orchids, hanging over
the door, shriveled in the heat.
Laurana rested her hand on the marshal's arm. She looked
back at the two brothers, standing, white-faced with shadowed
eyes, watching her being led away to her death.
Which one? she asked herself, sick at heart. Which one?
CHAPTER TWENTYNINE
PRISON OF AMBER
The midsummer's morning dawned unusually cool in
Silvanesti.
"A fine day for battle, gentlemen," said Mina to her as-
sembled officers.
Galdar led the cheers, which shook the trees along the river-
bank, caused the leaves of the aspens to tremble.
"So may our valor set the elves to trembling," said Captain
Samuval. "A great victory will be ours this day, Mina! We cannot
fail!"
"On the contrary," said Mina coolly. "This day we will be de-
feated."
Knights and officers stared at her blankly. They had seen her
perform miracle after miracle, until the miracles were now stacked
up one on top of the other like crockery in a neat housewife's cup-
board. The idea that these miracles were to now come spilling out
of the cupboard, come crashing down around their ears was a ca-
tastrophe not to be believed. So they did not believe it.
"She's joking, " said Galdar, attempting to pass it off with a laugh.
Mina shook her head. "We will lose the battle this day. An
army of a thousand elven warriors has come to test us. We are
outnumbered over two to one. We cannot win this battle."
The Knights and officers looked at each other uneasily. They
looked at Mina grimly, doubtfully.
"But though we lose the battle this day," Mina continued,
smiling slightly, her amber eyes lit from behind with an eerie
glow that made the faces captured in them glitter like tiny stars,
"this day we will win the war. But only if you obey me without
question. Only if you follow my orders exactly."
The men grinned, relaxed. "We will, Mina," several shouted,
and the rest cheered.
Mina was no longer smiling. The amber of her eyes flowed
over them, congealed around them, froze them where they stood.
"You will obey my orders, though you do not understand them.
You will obey my orders, though you do not like them. You will
swear this to me on your knees, swear by the Nameless God who
is witness to your oath and who will exact terrible revenge upon
the oath breaker. Do you so swear?"
The Knights sank down on their knees in a semicircle around
her. Removing their swords, they held them by the blade, beneath
the hilt. They lifted their swords to Mina. Captain Samuval went
down on his knees, bowed his head. Galdar remained standing.
Mina turned her amber eyes on him.
"On you, Galdar, more than on anyone else rests the outcome
of this battle. If you refuse to obey me, if you refuse to obey the
God who gave you back your warrior's arm, we are lost. All of us.
But you, most especially."
"What is your command, Mina?" Galdar asked harshly. "Tell
me first, that I may know."
"No, Galdar," she said gently. "You either trust me or you do
not. You put your faith in the God or you do not. Which will it be?"
Slowly, Galdar knelt down upon his knees before her. Slowly
he drew his sword from its scabbard and slowly held it up as did
the others. He held it in the hand the God had returned to him.
"I so swear, Mina!" he said.
The rest spoke as one.
"I so swear!"
The battleground was a large field located on the banks of the
Thon- Thalas River. The elf soldiers trampled tender stalks of
wheat beneath their soft leather boots. The elf archers took their
places amid tall stands of green, tasseled com. General Konnal set
up his command tent in a peach orchard. The arms of a great
windmill turned endlessly, creaking in the wind that had a taste
of autumn's harvest in it.
There would be a harvest on this field, a dread harvest, a har-
vest of young lives. When it was over, the water that ran at the
feet of the great windmill would run red.
The field stood between the approaching enemy army and the
capital of Silvanost. The elves put themselves in harm's way, in-
tending to stop the army of darkness before it could reach the
heart of the elf kingdom. The Silvanesti were outraged, insulted,
infuriated. In hundreds of years, no enemy had set foot on this'
sacred land. The only enemy they had fought had been one of
their own making, the twisted dream of Lorac.
Their wonderful magical shield had failed them. They did not
know how or why, but most of the elves were convinced that it
had been penetrated by an evil machination of the Knights of
Neraka.
"To that end, General," Glaucous was saying, "the capture of
their leader is of the utmost importance. Bring this girl in for in-
terrogation. She will tell me how she managed to thwart the
shield's magic."
"What makes you think she will tell you?" Konnal asked, an-
noyed at the wizard and his harping on this subject alone.
"She may refuse, GeneraL" Glaucous assured him, "but she
will not have any choice in the matter. I will use the truth-seek
on her."
The two were in the general's command tent. They had met
early that morning with the elf officers. Silvan had explained his
strategy. The officers had agreed that the tactics were sound.
Konnal had then dismissed them to deploy their men. The
enemy was reported to be about five miles away. According to
the scouts, the Knights of Neraka had halted to arm themselves
and put on their armor. They were obviously preparing for
battle.
"I cannot spare the men who would be required to seize a
single office4 Glaucous," the general added, recording his orders
in a large book. "If the girl is captured in battle, fine. If not. . ."
He shrugged, continued writing.
"I will undertake her capture, General," Silvan offered.
" Absolutely not, Your Majesty," Glaucous said hurriedly.
"Give me a small detachment of mounted warriors," Silvan
urged, coming to stand before the general. "We will circle around
their flank, come in from behind. We will wait until the battle is
fairly joined and then we will drive through the lines in a wedge,
strike down her bodyguard, capture this commander of theirs
and carry her back to our lines."
Konnallooked up from his work.
"You said yourself, Glaucous, that discovering the means by
which these evil fiends came through the shield would be useful.
I think His Majesty's plan is sound."
"His Majesty puts himself in too much danger," Glaucous
protested.
"I will order members of my own bodyguard to ride with the
king," Konnal said. "No harm will come to him."
"It had better not," Glaucous said softly.
Ignoring his adviser, Konnal walked over to the map, stared
down at it. He laid his finger on a certain point. "My guess is
that the enemy commander will take up her position here, on
this rise. That is where you should look for her and her body-
guard. You can circle around the battle by riding through this
stand of trees, emerging at this point. You will be practically on
top of them. You will have the element of surprise, and you
should be able to strike before they are aware of you. Does Your
Majesty agree?"
"The plan is an excellent one, General," said Silvan with
enthusiasm.
He was to wear new armor, beautifully made, wonderfully
designed. The breastplate bore the pattern of a twelve-pointed
star, his helm was formed in the likeness of two swan's wjngs
done in shining steel. He carried a new sword, and he now knew
how to use one, having spent many hours each day since his ar-
rival in Silvanost studying with an expert elf swordsman, who
had been most complimentary on His Majesty's progress. Silvan
felt invincible. Victory would belong to the elves this day, and he
was determined to playa glorious part, a part that would be cel-
ebrated in story and song for generations to come~
He left, ecstatic, to go prepare for battle. .
Glaucous lingered behind.
Konnal had returned to his work. Glaucous made no sound,
but Konnal sensed his presence, as one senses hungry eyes
watching one in a dark forest.
"Begone. I have work to do."
"I am going. I only want to emphasize what I said earlier. The
king must be kept safe."
Konnal sighed, looked up. "If he comes to harm, it will not be
through me. I am not an ogre, to kill one of my own kind. I spoke
in haste yesterday, without thinking. I will give my guards orders
to watch over him as if he were my own son."
"Excellent, General," said Glaucous with his beautiful smile.
"I am much relieved. My hopes for this land and its people
depend on him. Silvanoshei Caladon must Jive to rule Silvanesti
for many years. As did his grandfather before him."
"Are you certain you will not reconsider and ride with us,
Kiryn? This will be a battle celebrated for generations to
come!"
Silvan fidgeted under the ministrations of his squire, who was
attempting to buckle the straps of the king's damascened armor
and having a difficult time of it. The leather was stiff and new, the
straps refused to ease into place. Silvan's constant shifting and
moving did not help matters.
"If Your Majesty would please hold still!" the exasperated
squire begged.
"Sorry," Silvan said and did as he was told, for a few seconds
at any rate. Then he turned his head to look at Kiryn, who sat on
a cot, watching the proceedings. "1 could lend you some armor. I
have another full suit."
Kiryn shook his head. "My uncle has given me my assign-
ment. I am to carry dispatches and messages between the officers.
No armor for me. I must travel light."
A trumpet call sounded, causing Silvan to give such a start of
excitement that he undid a good quarter of an hour's worth of
work. "The enemy is in-sight! Hurry, you oaf!"
The squire sucked in a breath and held his tongue. Kiryn
added his assistance, and between the two of them the king was
readied for battle.
"I would embrace you for luck, Cousin," said Kiryn, "but I
would be bruised for a week. I do wish you luck, though," he said
more seriously as he clasped Silvan's hand in his. "though I
hardly think you'll need it."
Silvan was grave, solemn for a moment. "Battles are chancy
things, Samar used to say. One man's bravery may save the day.
One man's cowardice may spoil it. That is what I fear most,
Cousin. More than death. I fear that I will turn coward and flee
the field. I've seen it happen. I've seen good men, brave men fall
to their knees and tremble and weep like little children."
"Your mother's courage flows in your veins along with your
father's fortitude:' Kiryn reassured him. "You will not fail their
memories. You will not fail your people. You will not fail yourself."
Silvan drew in a deep breath of the flower-scented air, let it
out slowly. The sunshine was like warm honey spilling from the
sky. All around him were familiar sounds and smells, sounds of
battle and war, smells of leather and sweat sounds and smells he
had been born to, sounds and smells he had come to loathe but
which, oddly, he had also come to miss. His playground had been
a battlefield, a command tent his cradle. He was more at home
here, he realized, than he was in his fine castle.
Smiling ruefully, he walked out of his tent his armor of silver
and gold gleaming brightly, to be greeted by the enthusiastic
cheers of his people.
The battle plans for both sides were simple. The elves formed
ranks across the field, with the archers in the rear. The army of the
Knights of Neraka extended their thinner lines among the trees of
the low hillside, hoping to tempt the elves into attacking rashly,
attacking up hill.
Konnal was far too smart to fall for that. He was patient if his
troops were not and he kept fast hold of them. He had time, all
the time in the world. The army of the Knights of Neraka, run-
ning low on supplies, did not.
Toward midafternoon, a single braying trumpet sounded
from the hills. The elves gripped their weapons. The army of
darkness came out of the hills on the run, shouting insults and de-
fiance to their foes. Arrows from both sides arced into the skies,
forming a canopy of death above the heads of the armies, who