Dargonesti lh-3

by Paul Thompson

  The sergeant halted his squad. Gundabyr and Vixa kept going, mounting the steps to the platform. Vixa saluted, Qualinesti fashion, by placing her closed fist over her heart and bowing her head slightly. Gundabyr planted his hands on his hips and said, “Hello.”

  “Well,” said General Axarandes. “It seems Samcadaris and his lads had quite a fishing trip. A rare catch indeed.”

  “Sir,” Vixa began, “I am a princess of the royal house of Qualinost. My name is Vixa Ambrodel. I am the niece of the Speaker of the Sun.”

  “So you say,” was the even reply. “Do you have any proof?”

  She spread her hands. “Alas, no. I was held captive and all my belongings taken from me.”

  “Who held you prisoner?”

  “Blueskins,” Gundabyr said loudly. “Elves who live under the sea.”

  There was a ripple of laughter among the guards. Axarandes’s arched eyebrows climbed a little higher. “Extraordinary!” he exclaimed. “Have you any proof of that?”

  “We’re here telling you, aren’t we?” said Gundabyr belligerently.

  “You might be here for any number of reasons, Master Dwarf. Silvanesti law does not permit outsiders within our borders. If you are who you say you are, lady, then you should know that.”

  Nettled, Vixa’s voice rose. “Yes, I do know that! Look, General, we’re not spies, and we’re not lunatics. The Dargonesti elves are coming from a city called Urione, which lies two hundred leagues offshore, under the sea. Ten thousand soldiers, commanded by a warlord named Coryphene, are on their way right now to attack Silvanost!”

  No one laughed now. Axarandes reacted decisively. “Very well,” he said. “I have been a soldier too long to ignore such a warning. Patrols will be sent out to investigate your claim. Dannagel?” The young elf stepped forward. “Form a cavalry troop. Scout the west bank as far as Point Zara. Kenthrin, lead a company east along the shore for the same purpose. Go no farther than Sandpiper Beach.”

  Both elves saluted, and Samcadaris asked, “And I, sir?”

  “You will muster the remaining garrison and drill them on the common in Brackenost. I want watchers on both towers night and day.” Axarandes stood.

  “Is that all?” Vixa asked. “Aren’t you going to send a warning to Silvanost?”

  “To what end, lady? We don’t know if this is a real invasion or not. I will not risk a reputation for five hundred years of common sense by sending a false report to His Majesty.”

  Vixa traded a helpless look with Gundabyr. The dwarf scowled. “What about us?” he wanted to know.

  “You will remain here, under guard.”

  “As prisoners?”

  “Until the truth of your story can be checked, you are foreigners on Silvanesti soil and must be detained.” In seconds the pair was surrounded by armed elves.

  “That’s the thanks we get,” grumbled Gundabyr.

  “I don’t wish to be harsh,” Axarandes replied decently. “But the law is the law.”

  Vixa and Gundabyr were marched away. They were taken to a large room high up in the south tower. The thick door clanked shut, the bolt slid home, and they were captives once more.

  “The luck is still with us,” Gundabyr said sourly, “and it’s still all bad. We shoulda just gone home.”

  “No,” Vixa answered with a sigh. “This was the right thing to do. Coryphene and Uriona must be stopped.”

  “Do you think this general fella can do it?”

  “He’s taking precautions-that’s good. But he simply doesn’t understand who and what he’s dealing with.” She sighed again.

  Gundabyr dragged a chair over to the high slit window. He climbed up and peered outside. The afternoon sun illuminated a narrow view of the Thon-Thalas delta and, in the distance, a blue strip of sea.

  “I wonder how long it’ll be?” he mused. “How long before we see blueskins marching out of the water?”

  Vixa shivered, though the day was quite hot. She drew the Silvanesti cloak closer about her and said nothing.

  As prisons went, their room in Thonbec wasn’t too bad. The Silvanesti fed them regularly-no fish after the first meal, when Gundabyr’s anguished complaints rang through the stone fortress. The thick walls kept the room cool, despite the intense afternoon sun, and by night the stones had absorbed enough heat to maintain a pleasant temperature, though cool sea breezes whistled in the slit windows.

  Two days after being shut in the tower, Vixa and Gundabyr had a visitor. It was Samcadaris, looking grim.

  “Kenthrin and Dannagel have returned,” he reported. “They found no sign of an invading army. When did these Dargonesti supposedly start moving?”

  “Five, six days ago,” Vixa estimated. “They’re all on foot, though. It will take them a while to march-or swim-here.”

  “All infantry, you say? No cavalry?”

  “Horses don’t fare too well forty fathoms down.” Samcadaris merely nodded at Gundabyr’s sarcastic comment. The grim look on his face didn’t alter.

  “It may not mean much to you now,” the Silvanesti said, “but I agree with you that Silvanost should be warned. I don’t think we can afford not to believe you. However, the general has lost what little faith he had in you. I fear you may be consigned to the dungeon shortly.”

  “But I am of the House of Kith-Kanan!” Vixa exploded.

  “If that were true, we would treat you accordingly. But there seems to be no way you can prove what you say.”

  Gundabyr smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I know what’ll show ’em, Princess!” he said. He tugged her elbow, drawing her down to him. The dwarf whispered in her ear. Vixa smiled.

  “I agree,” she said. “Captain Samcadaris, if you will conduct me down to the river, I will be able to demonstrate the truth of my tale.”

  “The river? Do you think I can be fooled into allowing you to escape?”

  Gundabyr threw up his hands, but Vixa said patiently, “I give you my word, I won’t attempt escape. Take me to the river, and I can prove myself. Gundabyr will remain with you as hostage. If I fail, you can always toss us back in here, and I won’t ask for another chance.”

  Samcadaris hesitated a moment longer, but the calm of her demeanor decided him. He conducted them out of their tower room. It was several hours after the midday meal, and the fortress bailey was bustling with activity. The path down to the river was quiet. Through the trees, Vixa could see barges on the water, flying the banners of Silvanost. Troops rowed back and forth, searching for signs of an attack. Part of her almost wished the Dargonesti would hurry and get here, proving that she and Gundabyr weren’t lying. Or spies. Or crazy.

  They walked out on the stone pier. Vixa kicked off her borrowed boots and pulled her robe over her head.

  “What are you doing?” asked Samcadaris, mystified.

  “I have to be in the water,” she said. “Just be patient.”

  Clad only in her cotton shift, Vixa stepped off the dock. The water was neck-deep here. She closed her eyes and began the now-familiar process of visualizing her dolphin shape. The sleek black-and-white body filled her mind. She ignored everything except that one idea.

  Nothing happened. Gundabyr cleared his throat.

  “Well,” he said, “get to it.”

  She glared up at him. “I’m trying!” Vixa closed her eyes again. Once more she concentrated. She remembered the sensation of hurtling through the water. She thought of the ease and grace her muscular form gave her, of the loops and circles she’d swum around Naxos during her first transformation. She remembered the exhilaration of leaping from wave to wave.

  “Captain Samcadaris, what is the meaning of this?”

  General Axarandes was striding across the dock. Samcadaris snapped to rigid attention and saluted.

  “Sir! Lady Vixa said she had a way of proving the truth of her report, if I would bring her to the river-”

  “Lady,” the general interrupted, “please come out of the water.”

  “No,
” she said, glaring up at him. “Not yet!”

  “What’s wrong?” Gundabyr asked her.

  She shook her head, at a loss to explain her failure. “I don’t know. I-wait a minute!” Vixa’s expression brightened. “Naxos said I had to be in the sea! Captain, take me to the sea! I can prove-”

  The general’s voice was firm. “Lady, come out of the water. Now.”

  Still protesting, Vixa did as he ordered. When she demanded again to be taken to the sea, Axarandes held up a hand for quiet.

  “We have learned one thing here at least,” he said softly. Vixa’s confusion at his words turned to outrage as she saw that every elf wore the same expression-pity! They thought she was a lunatic, and they felt sorry for her!

  “I’m not mad!” she shouted. “If you’ll just take me to the ocean-”

  “There are learned elves in Silvanost who can help you, lady,” Axarandes said kindly. “Magic can be a great boon to a wandering mind.”

  “My mind is not wandering! I tell you I can prove what I say!”

  When the general signaled for two elves to take hold of her, Vixa’s patience ended. Planting her feet, she delivered a hard blow to the chest of the nearer warrior, sending him stumbling back. The second she seized by his tunic and flung into the river.

  Axarandes sighed. “Take them,” he said wearily.

  Gundabyr let out a yell of dwarven anger and lashed out with his fists. Two Silvanesti went sprawling, but the rest overcame him by sheer numbers and pinioned his arms and legs. Vixa evaded a rush by two more elves and grabbed for the hilt of the elderly Axarandes’s fine sword. Unfortunately, the old general was quicker and stronger than he looked. Her wrist was seized in an iron grip. He broke her hold on the hilt and reversed her arm. Gasping with pain, she spun involuntarily until he had her arm tight against her back.

  “Do be calm, lady. I’ve no wish to hurt you,” he said. Vixa struggled, but she couldn’t escape his armlock.

  “All right. This is getting us nowhere,” she said, relaxing.

  Vixa and Gundabyr were surrounded by a phalanx of chagrined Silvanesti soldiers, all rubbing their jaws or nursing bruised knuckles. “Take them to the dungeon,” Axarandes ordered. “Separate them.”

  Samcadaris had stood quietly by during this altercation, his face torn. Now, however, pity had replaced confusion. The girl’s mind was obviously unstable. Axarandes turned to him.

  “Captain, call in the patrols. This farce has gone on long enough.”

  His words horrified Vixa. “General, you must believe me! The Dargonesti are coming! You must be prepared!”

  They marched back to Thonbec in disgrace. Along the way, Gundabyr muttered, “Well, that went fine, didn’t it? Now they’re certain we’re nuts-or at least you are. I’m just the idiot who believes you!”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said crossly.

  The rest of the journey was completed in angry silence. The Silvanesti locked them in separate cells in the fortress dungeon. The rooms were clean and dry, though far smaller than their previous tower chamber. The clanging of the bolt shooting home sounded like a death knell to Vixa.

  The Qualinesti princess slumped against the wall and let her head rest heavily on her hands.

  When she awoke, Vixa had no idea how much time had passed. The only light in her cell came from the small wicket in the oak door. She put her face next to the strips of black iron that barred the wicket and peered down the passage. Torches sputtered in wall sconces, but the low-ceilinged passage was empty. She called Gundabyr’s name several times. There was no response.

  It was all so frustrating! She was certain she could transform if only these fools would take her to the ocean! That must be why she’d failed. She had to be in salt water.

  But was that the problem? For all she knew, her ability was temporary. Naxos had said “forever”-but the shapeshifter could have lied. That thought stung almost as much as her failure.

  Disgusted, Vixa let her head fall against the doorjamb. Immediately, she felt strange vibrations echoing through the cold stone. She pulled back in surprise, and the sensation went away. Vixa pressed an ear to the wall beside the cell door. The stones were vibrating. Was the entire garrison marching on the battlements? Perhaps a mighty storm lashed the fortress. In moments a sound broke the silence of the dungeon-the sound of running feet, growing louder.

  Vixa pressed her face against the iron straps over the wicket. “Hello!” she called. “Who’s there? Let me out!”

  Samcadaris rounded the far corner and raced toward her cell. She saw that he was dirty and spattered with blood.

  “What’s happening?” she asked.

  “We’re under attack!” He threw back the bolt on her door. “An hour after sundown they came out of the river! Warriors, giants with blue skin, just as you said!”

  “Has the fortress fallen?”

  “No! Axarandes led a counterattack and saved the troops trapped outside the walls. They’ve taken Brackenost, though. The village is burning.”

  She emerged from her cell. “Where’s Gundabyr? He must be freed.”

  Samcadaris took her down the passage and around the corner. When Gundabyr was awakened and the situation explained to him, he got to his feet with a sigh, saying, “First they call us loonies, then they want us to fight for ’em. I tell you, the luck’s still with us, and it’s-”

  “All bad,” finished Vixa impatiently. “Captain, we need weapons.”

  “You shall have them,” said Samcadaris. He led them down the passage and up the stairs, grabbing a torch as he went.

  As they ran, the dwarf muttered, “I don’t s’pose there’s a decent axe around here. I can’t fight with these fancy elf weapons.”

  They emerged in the ground floor chamber of the north tower, the fort’s armory. The torchlight was reflected by racks of pole weapons, swords, shields, and various other implements of battle. Shouts and the clangor of battle filtered through the thick stone walls.

  “Help yourselves,” said the Silvanesti, stabbing the torch into a handy wall sconce. “I must return to the wall!”

  Vixa chose a burnished bronze breastplate and helmet. There was no time to bother with greaves, vambraces, or the like. She tugged the helmet on and wriggled into the heavy cuirass. Gundabyr turned up his nose at the bronze armor-it was much too large for him anyway-and went straight to a rack of polearms. He took out a six-foot halberd and cut several feet of its shaft away. Now he had a large but serviceable hand axe.

  “Let’s go!” Vixa shouted, hefting a borrowed sword.

  “Right behind you, Princess.”

  They dashed into the courtyard. The bailey was littered with wounded and dying Silvanesti. Long torches planted into the ground gave the scene an eerie, shifting illumination.

  The walls teemed with fighting elves. Fires blazed on the far side of the walls, casting the parapets into sharp relief. Mixed in with the Silvanesti defenders were disturbing numbers of tall, blue-skinned Dargonesti. Now and then an elf toppled from the wall, trailing screams in the smoky air.

  “The gate’s where the fight will be hardest,” Vixa shouted over the din. “That’s where I’m going!” She ran for the entrance, Gundabyr right behind. They had to weave through the piles of wounded and dead.

  They reached the front gate just as the fight was turning in favor of the defenders. General Axarandes was there, directing his troops with cool efficiency. He had solidified the defense. Vixa and Gundabyr pitched in, helping to shove the massive oak doors shut. When Axarandes saw them, he simply nodded.

  Locking bars, made from entire tree trunks, were slid into place to hold the portal secure. Axarandes called for water and bandages for the wounded. There were no healers in Thonbec. They were usually brought in from Brackenost to tend the garrison’s simple needs. Unfortunately, Brackenost had been conquered. The burning village brightly illuminated the eastern wall.

  Vixa, Gundabyr, and the general climbed to the battlements. Vixa was furious that her warn
ing had gone unheeded. Many of these deaths might have been prevented if only the Silvanesti had listened.

  “After dark, the first of the enemy emerged from the river and seized the docks.” Axarandes said. “Half the garrison was outside the walls, patrolling or on relieved duty. Before the alarm could be raised, the enemy were in the streets of Brackenost. They have an incendiary liquid that is difficult to extinguish.”

  “Gnomefire,” Gundabyr said ruefully. “I’m afraid I gave them that.”

  “Captain Dannagel was in the village and mustered what warriors he could to resist the enemy attack. They came out of the river all along the bank, hundreds of them. Dannagel died defending the open gate. I brought his troops in, and only barely managed to keep the invaders out, as you saw for yourselves.”

  The Qualinesti princess shook her head as she stared down at the burning village beyond the wall. Of course the Dargonesti had come from the river! She’d told the Silvanesti they were a water-breathing race. But she cast these resentments aside. The objective now had to be the defense of Thonbec and Silvanost.

  “Have you sent word to the Speaker?” she asked. Axarandes shook his head, and she quickly added, “Silvanost is their objective, General, make no mistake. You must warn the Speaker of the Stars to prepare for the defense of the city.”

  To her disbelief, he said, “You are too rash, lady. The enemy has not taken this fortress. In truth, now that their surprise attack has failed, I don’t see that we have much to fear. I regret my lack of faith in your warning, but we are prepared now. A force of ten thousand infantry cannot have a siege train of the size necessary to reduce Thonbec. They might as well return to the sea now and spare their own blood.”

  “That’s an easy thing to say,” Gundabyr remarked. “But you don’t know these blueskins the way we do. Coryphene didn’t come all this way just to give up. Rest assured, he has some plan in mind for your fortress.”