Douglas Niles - The Kinslayer Wars

Yet, above all, she was the matriarch of the House of Silver Moon. She, too, was a leader of the Silvanesti, and she understood some things about strength, about ruling, and about risk-taking. She had made known her objections, and she realized that the minds of her sons were set. Now she would give no further vent to her personal feelings.

She rose from her chair and nodded stiffly at each of her sons. Kith-Kanan went to her side, while Sithas remained in his chair, moved by her loyalty. The warrior escorted her to the door.

Quimant looked at Sithas, then turned to Kith-Kanan as he returned to his chair. “May your quest be speedy and successful. I only wish I could accompany you.”

Sithas spoke. “I shall entrust you to act as regent in my absence. You know the details of the nation’s daily affairs. I shall also need you to begin the conscription of new troops. By the end of winter, we will have to raise and train a new force to send to the plains.”

“I will do everything in my power,” pledged Quimant. “Another thing,” added Sithas casually. “If Tamanier Ambrodel returns to the city, he is to be given quarters in the palace. I will need to see him immediately upon my return.” Quimant nodded, rose, and bowed to the twins. “May the gods watch over you,” he said, then left. * * * * * “I have to go. Don’t you understand that?” Sithas challenged Hermathya. She stomped about their royal bedchambers before whirling upon him. “You can’t! I forbid it!” Hermathya’s voice rose, becoming shrill. Her face, moments before blank with astonishment, now contorted in fury. “Damn it! Listen to me!” Sithas scowled, his own anger rising. Stubborn and intractable, they stared into each other’s eyes for a moment.

“I’ve told you about the spell of binding. It’s in the Old Script. Kith doesn’t have the knowledge to use it, even if he found the griffons. I’m the only one who can read it properly.” He held her shoulders and continued to meet her eyes.

“I have to do this, not just for the good it will do our nation, but for me!

That’s what you have to understand!”

“I don’t have to, and I won’t!” she cried, whirling away from him.

“Kith-Kanan has always been the one to face the dangers and the challenges of the unknown. Now there’s something that I must do. I, too, must put my life at risk. For once, I’m not just sending my brother into danger. I’m going myself!”

“But you don’t have to!”

Hermathya almost spat her anger, but Sithas wouldn’t budge. If she could see any sense in his desire to test himself, she wouldn’t admit it. Finally, in exhaustion and frustration, the Speaker of the Stars stormed out of the chambers.

He found Kith-Kanan in the stables, instructing the saddlemaker on modifications to Arcuballis’s harness. The griffon would be able to carry the two of them, but his flight would be slowed, and they would be able to take precious little in the way of provisions and equipment.

“Dried meat—enough for only a few weeks,” recited Kith-Kanan, examining the bulging saddlebags. “A pair of waterskins, several extra cloaks. Tinder and flint, a couple of daggers. Extra bowstrings. We’ll carry our bows where we can get at them in a hurry, of course. And twoscore arrows. Do you have a practical sword?”

For a moment, Sithas flushed. He knew that the ceremonial blade he had carried for years would be inadequate for the task at hand. Cast in a soft silver alloy, its shining blade was inscribed with all manner of symbols in the Old Script, reciting the glorious history of the House of Silvanos. It was beautiful and valuable, but impractical in a fight. Still, it rankled him to hear his brother speak ill of it. “Lord Quimant has procured a splendid longsword for me,” he said stiffly. “It will do quite nicely.”

“Good.” Kith took no notice of his brother’s annoyance. “We’ll have to leave our metal armor behind. With this load, Arcuballis can’t handle the extra weight. Have you a good set of leathers?”

Again Sithas replied in the affirmative.

“Well, we’ll be ready to go at first light, then. Ah—” Kith hesitated, then asked, “How did Hermathya react?” Kith knew that Sithas had put off telling Hermathya that he would be gone for weeks on this journey.

“Poorly,” Sithas, said, with a grimace. He offered no elaboration, and Kith-Kanan did not probe further. They attended a small banquet that night, joined by Quimant and Nirakina and several other nobles. Hermathya was conspicuously absent, a fact for which Kith was profoundly grateful, and the mood was subdued. He had found himself anxious throughout these last days that Hermathya would tell her husband about her dalliance with his brother. Kith-Kanan had tried to put aside the memory of that night, treating the incident as some sort of waking dream. This made his guilt somewhat easier to bear. After dinner, Nirakina handed Sithas a small vial. The stoneware jar was tightly plugged by a cork.

“It is a salve, made by the clerics of Quenesti Pah,” she explained.

“Miritelisina gave it to me. If you are injured, spread a small amount around the area of the wound. It will help the healing.”

“I hope we won’t need it, but thank you,” said Sithas. For a moment, he wondered if his mother was about to cry, but again her proud heritage sustained her. She embraced each of her sons warmly, kissed them, and wished them the luck of the gods. Then she retired to her chambers. Both of the twins spent much of the night awake, taut with the prospect of the upcoming adventure. Sithas tried to see his wife in the evening and again before sunrise, but she wouldn’t open her door even to speak to him. He settled for a few moments with Vanesti, holding his son in his arms and rocking him gently while night gave way to early dawn.

They met at the stables before dawn. As they had requested, no one came to see them off. Kith threw the heavy saddle over the restless griffon’s back, making sure that the straps that passed around Arcuballis’s wings were taut. Sithas stood by, watching as his brother hoisted the heavy saddlebags over the creature’s loins. The elf took several minutes to make sure that everything was secure.

They mounted the powerful beast, with Kith-Kanan in the fore, and settled into the specially modified saddle. Arcuballis trotted from the stable doors into the wide corral. Here he sprang upward, the thick muscles of his legs propelling them from the ground. His powerful wings beat the still air and thrust downward. In a single fluid motion, he leaped again and they were airborne.

The griffon labored over the garden and then along the city’s main avenue, slowly gaining altitude. The twins saw the towers of the city pass alongside, then slowly fall behind. Rosy hues of dawn quickly brightened to pink, then pale blue, as the sun seemed to explode over the eastern horizon into a crisp and cloudless day.

“By the gods, this is fantastic!” cried Sithas, overcome with the beauty of their flight, with the sight of Silvanost, and perhaps with the exhilaration of at last escaping the confining rituals of his daily life.

Kith-Kanan smiled to himself, pleased with his brother’s enthusiasm. They flew above the Thon-Thalas River, following the silvery ribbon of its path. Though autumn had come to the elven lands, the day was brilliant with sunshine, the air was clear, and a brilliant collage of colors spread across the forested lands below.

The steady pulse of the griffon’s wings carried them for many hours. The city quickly fell away, though the Tower of the Stars remained visible for some time. By midmorning, however, they soared over pristine forestland. No building broke the leafy canopy to indicate that anyone—elf, human, or whatever—lived here.