Douglas Niles - The Kinslayer Wars

“King Hal-Waith would consider it a personal favor if we were to place him under arrest, detaining him until such time as the next dwarven mission arrives. It should be here sometime during the summer.”

“Any word on numbers? On their march route?” Tactics already swirled through Kith-Kanan’s head.

Ambrodel pursed his lips and shook his head. “Only the name of the commander, whom I trust will meet with your approval.”

“Dunbarth Ironthumb?” Kith-Kanan was hopeful.

“None other.”

“That is good news!” That dignified statesman had been the brightest element of the otherwise frustrating councils between Thorbardin, Silvanesti, and Ergoth. The ambassador from the dwarven nation had retained a sense of humor and self-deprecating whimsy that had lightened many an otherwise tedious session of negotiation.

“Where am I to join him?” Kith-Kanan asked. “Shall I take Arcuballis and fly to Thorbardin itself?”

Ambrodel shook his head. “I don’t think you could. The gates remain carefully hidden.”

“But surely you could direct me! Didn’t you say that you have been there?”

“Indeed,” the chamberlain agreed with a nod. He coughed awkwardly. “But to tell you the truth, I never saw the gates, nor could I describe the approach to you or to anyone.”

“How did you get in, then?”

“It’s a trifle embarrassing, actually. I spent nearly a month floundering around in the mountains, seeking a trail or a road or any kind of sign of the gate. I found nothing. Finally, however, I was met in my camp by a small band of dwarven scouts. Apparently they keep an eye on the perimeter and were watching my hapless movements, wondering what I was up to.”

“But you must have entered through the gate,” Kith said.

“Indeed,” nodded Ambrodel. “But I spent the two days of the approach—two very long days, I might add—stumbling along with a blindfold over my eyes.”

“That’s an outrage!” barked Quimant, stiffening in agitation. “An insult to our race!”

Sithas, too, scowled. Only Kith-Kanan reacted with a thin smile and a nod of understanding. “With treachery among their own people, it only seems a natural precaution,” the elven general remarked. That lessened the tension, and Ambrodel nodded in reluctant agreement.

“Excellency,” inquired Quimant, with careful formality. It was obvious that the lord regent was annoyed by not having been apprised of the secret negotiations. “This is indeed a most splendid development, but was it necessary to retain such a level of secrecy? Perhaps I could have aided the cause had I been kept informed.”

“Indeed, quite true, my good cousin-in-law. There was no fear that the knowledge would have been misplaced in you—save this one. In your position as regent, you are the one who has spent the greatest amount of time with Than-Kar. It was essential that the ambassador not know of this plan, and I felt that the safest way to keep you from a revealing slip—inadvertent, of course—was to withhold the knowledge from you. The decision was mine alone.”

“I cannot question the Speaker’s wisdom,” replied the noble humbly. “This is a most encouraging turn of events.” * * * * *

Kith left the meeting in order to arrange for the postings around the city. He wanted all Silvanost to quickly learn of the call for volunteers. He intended to personally interview and test all applicants for the griffon cavalry. Sithas remained behind, with Quimant and Ambrodel, to attend to matters of government. “As to the city, how has it fared in our absence?” Quimant informed him of other matters: weapons production was splendid, with a great stockpile of arms gathered; refugees from the plains had stopped coming to Silvanost—a fact that had greatly eased the tensions and crowding within the city; the higher taxes that Sithas had decreed, in order to pay for the war, had been collected with only a few minor incidents.

“There has been some violence along the waterfront. The city guard has confronted Than-Kar’s escorts on more than one occasion. We’ve had several elves badly injured and one killed during these brawls.”

“The Theiwar?” guessed Sithas.

“Indeed. The primary troublemakers can be found among the officers of Than-Kar’s guard, as if they want to create an incident.” Quimant’s disgust with the dwarves was apparent in his sarcastic tone.

We’ll deal with them . . . when the time is right. We’ll wait till Kith-Kanan forms his cavalry and departs for the west.”

“I’m certain he’ll have no shortage of volunteers. There are many noble elves who had resisted the call to arms, as it applies to the infantry,” said Lord Quimant. “They’ll leap at the chance to form an elite unit, especially with the threat of conscription hanging over their heads!”

“We’ll keep news of Thorbardin’s commitment secret,” Sithas added. “Not a word of it is to leave this room. In the meantime, tell me about the additional troops for the infantry. How fares the training of the new regiments?”

“We have five thousand elves under arms, ready to march when you give the command.”

“I had hoped for more.”

Quimant hemmed and hawed. “The sentiment in the city is not wholly in favor of the war. Our people do not seem to grasp the stakes here.”

“We’ll make them understand,” growled Sithas, looking to the lord as if he expected Quimant to challenge him. His wife’s cousin remained silent on that point, however.

Instead, Quimant hesitantly offered another suggestion. “We do have another source of troops,” he ventured. “However, they may not meet with the Speaker’s satisfaction.”

“Another source? Where?” Sithas demanded.

“Humans—mercenaries. There are great bands of them in the plains north of here and over to the west. Many of them bear no great love for the emperor of Ergoth and would be willing to join our service—for a price, of course.”

“Never!” Sithas leaped to his feet, livid. “How can you even suggest such an abomination! If we cannot preserve our nation with our own troops, we do not deserve victory!”

His voice rang from the walls of the small chamber, and he glared at Quimant and Ambrodel, as if daring a challenge. None was forthcoming, and slowly the Speaker of the Stars relaxed.

“Forgive my outburst,” he said, with a nod to Quimant. “You were merely making a suggestion. That I understand.” “Consider the suggestion withdrawn.” The lord bowed to his ruler.

The recruits for the griffon-mounted cavalry were sworn in during a sunny ceremony a week after the brothers had arrived in the city. The event was held on the gaming fields beyond the gardens, for no place else in the city provided enough open space for the great steeds and their proud, newly appointed riders to assemble.

Thousands of elves turned out to watch, overflowing the large grandstands and lining the perimeter of the fields. Others gathered in the nearby towers, many of which rose a hundred feet or more into the air, providing splendid vantage.

“I welcome you, brave elves, to the ranks of an elite and decisive force, unique in our grand history!” Kith-Kanan addressed the recruits while the onlookers strained to hear his words.

“We shall take to the sky under a name that bespeaks our speed—henceforth we shall be known as the Windriders!”

A great cheer arose from the warriors and the spectators.

As Quimant had predicted, many scions of noble families had flocked to the call to arms once they learned of the nature of the elite unit. Kith-Kanan had disappointed and angered a great number of them by selecting his troops only after extensive combat tests and rigorous training procedures. Sons of masons, carpenters, and laborers were offered the same opportunities as the proud heirs of the noble houses. Those who were not truly desirous of the honor, or were unwilling or incapable of meeting the high standards established by Kith-Kanan, quickly fell away, consigned to the infantry. At the end of the brutal week of tests, the elven commander had been left with more than a thousand elves of proven courage, dedication, and skill.