Kagonesti lh-1

by Douglas Niles

  "Yet you carried it from that lair…?" Ashtaway, mystified, reminded Lectral.

  "Indeed. Now a cruel Dragon War rages again, and those who battle the Dark Queen have fared badly. Remembering that the Elderwild aided us to win the first war against evil dragonkind, I wondered if perhaps their children-the Kagonesti-could do so again. Thus, I winged toward these woodlands, on my way to seek your people, when the reds fell upon me, ending my flight here."

  "You sought our aid in the Dragon War?" Ash asked, surprised. "Surely you knew that we would never agree to enter such a…?" He trailed off as the realization dawned.

  Darlantan smiled a crocodile grimace of sharp fangs. "It seems to me that, even without my beseeching, you already have agreed," he remarked gently.

  Pondering the irony of this fate, Ashtaway built a fire while Hammana sliced meat from the carcass of the buck. They ate, the two wild elves cooking their meat over the low blaze while Lectral contentedly gnawed at a haunch. Afterward, they slept, and Ashtaway woke with the first cool light of dawn. Hammana was already up, grinding at her herbs, brewing a thick tea in a gourd that sat on the banked coals of the fire.

  At first he had thought that he might stay here for several days, but one look at the elfwoman's rigid back, then the sound of her stiffly formal greeting when he bade her good morning, convinced him that his presence here-at least, for any longer-would be a mistake.

  As soon as Lectral awakened, Ashtaway announced his intention to return to the village. He promised to return with game as soon as possible, though he warned this might not be until after he journeyed to Sanction and back.

  "Good luck," the dragon declared. "These knights can hurt Takhisis if only you show them the path."

  "I will do that." Ashtaway paused, then drew a breath. "Hammana?"

  "Yes?" She rose and accompanied him from the cave, though she did not meet his eyes.

  "Is-is there anything I should tell your father? When will you return to the village?"

  "I… I don't know. I'll stay here awhile. Lectral still needs me." Was it his imagination, or did she emphasize the dragon's name, pounding home the fact that a Pathfinder had no need of a woman, of anybody?

  The Kagonesti wanted to tell her that it wasn't true. He wanted to confess his own need, which he felt more strongly than ever before. He, Ashtaway, needed her at his side! Couldn't she see-couldn't everyone see-that a partner such as Hammana could only make him a better Pathfinder?

  But then she raised her face, and when he saw the fierce anger in her eyes, he felt a strange catch in his own throat and could only hold his tongue.

  At last, when the cool cloak of the forest surrounded him, the isolation came almost-but not quite-as a relief.

  Chapter 16

  Mountainous meeting

  Ashtawayy approached the rendezvous from tbe east, going many miles out of his way. He trusted Sir Kamford as much as it was possible to trust any non-Kagonesti, but his natural caution required that he take every measure to guard against betrayal. Thus he crossed two low, wooded ridges and traversed a shallow marsh just to ensure that his route could not be anticipated or intercepted. This legacy of caution seemed more important to him than ever before, perhaps because of the spiral horn he bore at his side.

  Moving through the pine woods of the mountain valley, Ash scanned the skies, the ridgetops, and the surrounding slopes for any signs of danger. He saw a small herd of deer grazing near one of the crests. This was a good sign. The animals certainly would have sought shelter if they had sensed humans in the vicinity. Still, the elf did not relax even as he ascended back to the ridge and looked toward the deep, bowl-shaped valley where he had arranged to meet Sir Kamford and his force of knights.

  The familiar basin sprawled before him in apparently pristine solitude. A wide fringe of flower-speckled meadow surrounded a grove of towering cedars, with another small meadow visible in the center of that grove. Though the dense needles of the upper limbs created a barrier to any observation from above, the wild elf knew that the floor of the grove was smooth and comfortable. No underbrush grew in the dense shadows, and the large trunks were well separated. Even a good-sized company of men and horses would be able to conceal themselves there, camping in relative comfort.

  A spring bubbled from a stony embankment on the opposite side of the grove, providing plenty of fresh water. The encircling meadow bloomed with ample pasture for the horses, while the shallow outflow of water created a stream stocked with plump trout. On several occasions Ashtaway had eaten well here-simply by lying beside the narrow brook, carefully reaching in with his hand, and flipping out as many of the tasty fish as he desired.

  Now the whole scene looked as peaceful and undisturbed as he remembered. Located far from any communities and from the eastern trade routes, the valley made an ideal rendezvous. Sanction lay forty or fifty miles to the north, with numerous sheer, sharp ridges rising throughout the intervening distance. Over the past six or seven decades, however, Ashtaway had discovered routes around the most precipitous of these heights, as well as the best routes of ascent and descent to the multitude of passes.

  The sun had barely reached noon on the day of the meeting when the elf settled in to watch. Also near zenith,preceding the sun as if it lured the fiery orb across the sky, the sliver of the moon Lunitari gleamed against the pale blue background, as it had one cycle earlier when Ash and Sir Kamford had arranged this rendezvous.

  Careful to remain below the crest of the ridge, the wild elf found a shaded, rocky niche, where he was fully concealed from observation above or below. With patience only another Kagonesti could have matched, he lay prone, peering outward between several low bushes, his hazel eyes flashing back and forth through the depression.

  To the north he could see the rocky outlines of the pass leading to Sanction, and for a while he reflected on that which he was about to do. Though his intervention in a war of humans and dragons was a thing that would have astonished him if another elf had proposed it, or even if he had thought about doing it as recently as half a season before, now he had no regrets. The Dark Queen was an enemy far more deadly than all the teeming numbers of humankind, and there was no question in his mind that he should offer his knowledge to aid in striking a blow against her.

  For a while he wondered about that great war. What was it like to see thousands of troops surging into battle? He tried to picture a sky filled with sweeping, wheeling dragons, and found that he couldn't do it. Someday, perhaps, he would see for himself-though it was a thing he would neither seek nor hope to find.

  The knights' manner of waging war against this threat seemed curious and foreign to him, oddiy removed from the vital fury of battle that lay behind every Kagonesti attack or defense. He could see the logic of an attack against foodstuffs, against coal and steel and corrals and forges, but as a purpose for attacking it did not ignite any martial fires in his breast. Yet if that was the way these humans wanted to wage war, so be it-he would hope that the Dark Queen could be sorely hurt by their sudden onslaught.

  Late in the afternoon, he saw a sparkle of sunlight and knew that something metallic moved over the opposite rim of the vaiiey. Squinting, frozen with concentration, he Stared until he saw that the sun had winked off the silver bridle of a great warhorse. Ash winced unconsciously. Didn't these humans know that shiny metal might make them visible to an observer many miles away? Immediately his musings were forgotten and he stared, rapt, at the human riders slowly coming into view. Similar in some ways to the wild elf's own approach, these knights moved with caution. Ash watched a preliminary party of four cross the ridge and move downward toward the grove Ash had described to Sir Kamford.

  From his vantage, the Kagonesti saw that another knight remained on the ridge, crouched among a cluster of thick brush-though he was quite conspicuous by wild elf standards. Still, Ash approved of his new ally's caution and was also pleased to see the sentry adjust his position over the next few minutes until he had vanished into the ground c
over almost as effectively as an elf.

  The four knights of the advance party split up as they approached the valley floor, a pair riding slowly through the pine woods circling the base of the depression while the other two advanced straight toward the grove of tall cedars Ashtaway had described. A stag and two does burst from the near side of that clump, bounding toward the heights, and the Kagonesti welcomed this sign that all was well.

  Still, the humans took their time, the two riders on the slopes making a full circle around the basin as they searched for danger. Below, the pair who had disappeared into the grove remained for nearly an hour before they emerged and waved to their fellows on the slopes.

  Only then did the rest of the knights come into view, riding in single file through the narrow gap and following the beckoning waves of their scouts. Ashtaway was impressed in spite of himself as he counted nearly one hundred huge chargers, each mounted by an armored human warrior. He saw that the glint of sunlight that had first attracted his eye had been unusual. For the most part, the Knights of Solamnia had dulled their armor, many even attaching leaves to their helmets or obscuring metallic sword hilts with mud and clay. He was relieved that they had at least made an effort at elementary concealment. Ash would make sure, before they left the valley, that their efforts were rendered fully effective.

  By the time the band of knights had entered the cedar grove, the sun had set and the sliver of Lunitari neared the western ridge. Ash waited a few more moments, watching the crescent slip from view. With the whole crest around and above him in full shadow, the Kagonesti emerged from his hiding place and carefully started down the slope.

  He moved slowly, always advancing from one piece of cover to the next-slithering like a snake in those places where he was forced to cross open ground-and by the time he reached the floor of the valley, the stars had sparkled into life.

  Still he moved with care, crouching low as he moved toward the grove. Near the edge of the clump of trees, he paused while a gust of wind swirled outward. He smelled humans, knew that at least two of them were very nearby, probably posted as sentries on this side of the grove. Good. Like himself, the humans knew the need for caution.

  A tight smile creased his lips as he crawled under the canopy of the first pines. Although he was pleased with Sir Kamford's alertness, it would please him even more to demonstrate wild elven proficiency and stealth. Ashtaway saw the boots of a knight no more than five paces away, but the man had not noticed him in the gathering darkness. Silently the Kagonesti moved from tree trunk to tree trunk, using his keen night vision to spot each of the pickets before the men had any idea that he lurked so closely among them.

  A horse stamped nervously, and the elf froze, chagrined at his own carelessness. Rigidly he watched the beast's clomping hooves, noting the shaggy fetlocks, the span of the legs. Though he had little experience with horses, he guessed with a fair degree of certainty that the steed before him was an unusually large specimen. Too, he should have guessed that the great beasts would possess a wild animal's keen senses of smell and hearing. No doubt the steed had picked up his scent. Still, after that momentary restlessness the horse snorted several times and went back to placid grazing.

  A few more minutes brought Ash to the brink of the grove's central clearing, where most of the knights were preparing to bivouac for the night. Several staked out horses, while others sharpened weapons, mended saddles, or cleaned dust and mud from their boots. Again the elf was impressed-though the night was chill, the humans showed no inclination to build a fire. Neither did they make any unnecessary noise during their activities.

  "D'you think he'll show up?" The voice came from a group of knights gathered at a ring of boulders-a circular space Ash had used as a campsite on his previous visits to the grove.

  "If he don't, we've taken a hundred lances out of the lords' army fer nothin'!" groused another knight.

  "He'll come." Now Ash recognized Sir Kamford's voice. The knight stood in the center of the circle, an undeniable figure of command. The other knights fell silent as he spoke. 'There was something about him-a kind of wisdom that I've rarely encountered. He gave me his word-"

  "And I have honored it," concluded Ashtaway, stepping into the circle. He enjoyed the consternation of the knights as they scrambled to their feet or instinctively reached for weapons, held back by Sir Kamford's chuckle of amusement. The knight bowed his head in a gesture of respect and appraised Ash for a moment before speaking.

  "Welcome. Were my pickets sleeping on the job?" asked Sir Kamford with good-humored amazement.

  Ash repeated the respectful bow, and he, too, paused to meet the other's eyes before he spoke. "No, they are alert and would doubtless have discovered any human who sought to intrude-or an ogre or Silvanesti elf, for that matter."

  "I believe you," Sir Kamford said with a nod. "It is good to see you again, my friend-and ally."

  "And you, human. I see that you bring many warriors."

  "You are the elf who will show us the road to Sanction?" inquired one of those knights, quite rudely, thought Ashtaway. Below his large nose this fellow had a curving red mustache. The human fixed the Kagonesti with a look of frank skepticism and not a little hostility.

  "I would not call it a road," he replied stiffly. "I made it clear that it is but a hunting path. It does, however, cross the lower slopes of the smoking mountains and leads to the valley you call Sanction. And I believe that your horses will be able to cross."

  "Believe? You don't know?" demanded the red-faced warrior.

  Ashtaway stiffened, forcibly holding his hand away from the hilt of his axe. This knight's lack of manners offended him deeply, and for the first time he wondered if he was making a great mistake by coming here.

  "How could I know?" he replied curtly. "We Kagonesti have no need of animal slaves in our efforts at war. We do well on our own feet." Ashtaway sensed that his own words were inflammatory, but he found it impossible to hold his tongue. The blunt conversation with the red- faced man seemed to arouse an instinctive antipathy.

  "Animal slaves?" The knight's mustache quivered in indignation, and his fists clenched into firm knots. 'These steeds are the boldest warriors on four legs! Never insult them-for to do so is to insult the men who ride them! To do that is to die."

  The words hit the Kagonesti with the piercing force of a hot lance. "If there have been insults uttered, it was not I who began the exchange," Ash replied grimly, his own fingers curling inward. "I was led to believe that my services would be of some aid to the knights, and to my friend, Sir Kamford Willis. If that is not the case, I will go-or I will fight, whichever you choose."

  His hazel eyes, darkened in the night, remained unwaveringly on the face of the belligerent knight. A small voice grew louder within him, suggesting that perhaps his coming here was a mistake, that humans and wild elves could not work together.

  "Patience, Sir Blayne." It was Sir Kamford who cut through the tension with a soothing voice. "As I told you-and told the lords of the orders as well-Ashtaway has hunted over this trail on foot. But if he suspects that our horses will pass, I'm prepared to believe him."

  "He passed our pickets, all right. He must know a little something," murmured another knight, not unkindly.

  The one called Sir Blayne made a visible but only partially successful effort to relax. "Very well." He addressed Ashtaway. "Your offer of help is not unwelcome. You should know, however, that these hundred knights could be very useful on the plains during this summer. If our mission here comes to naught, the loss could be catastrophic."

  "I cannot control the success or failure of your mission, but I can see that you will be able to approach Sanction from the southeast. The rest will be up to you."

  Ashtaway felt the flame of his anger slowly doused. As the hazy sense of instinctive rage faded, he wondered about its sudden force and fury, and he told himself that he would have to work hard to hold that tendency at bay.

  "That is all we ask," Sir Kamford declared
, silencing Sir Blayne with a firm look. "Can you tell us what we will do from here?"

  "In the morning, we leave this valley, crossing the north ridge. In four or five days, we should reach the summit of the pass, and from there you will be able to see your destination."

  "Up the north ridge of this valley?" Another knight spoke, faintly skeptical. "That didn't look like any kind of slope for riders."

  Ashtaway shrugged. "If the little climb out of here is going to stop you, then I can say with certainty that your horses will never make it over the pass. I am sorry."

  "We can make it!" Sir Kamford snapped. "We'll dismount and lead the horses on foot over the rough parts."

  "I still say we'd be more use forming a line of charge on the plains, fighting beside Lord Huma in the battle that will decide this war!" Sir Blayne, apparently, could not keep himself quiet.

  "Why aren't you there, then?" Ash asked in genuine confusion. "Are you not your own master?" He couldn't understand why the man had joined this mission if he was so doubtful of a positive outcome. Certainly no Kagonesti would ever consent to such behavior.

  "Orders," growled the knight, as if begrudging the word. "I am a loyal knight who follows the commands of his lord."

  "But if you do not wish to attack Sanction, then don't," argued the brave. "I do not wish to lead any warriors where they are afraid to go."

  "How dare you-a painted savage-question my courage?" snarled Sir Blayne, and this time his fist closed around the hilt of his sword.

  "Enough!" barked Sir Kamford, stepping between the elf and the angry knight. He fixed Ash with a level gaze. "There is none who may question the courage of any of my knights without questioning my own. And Sir Blayne is right. We will not tolerate such insinuations."

  Ash remained silent as the leader of the humans turned to his companion. "And I remind you, good Knight of the Crown, to remember your oath. It is unbecoming that we bicker thus in the presence of one who may help us to a spectacular victory. Neither should we make slander against his motivations or his noble people."