Margaret Weis - The Second Generation

Gil was impressed. How in the name of Paladine had Samar heard the woman coming? She moved as silently as the wind on her bare feet, except for that soft song. Gil regarded the warrior with undisguised admiration. Samar was apologizing in an undertone to his queen.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, for my roughness.”

“There is nothing to forgive, Samar. Let us hurry, before she comes back.”

Swiftly, silently, the three ran down the stairs.

Samar put his hand on the door handle.

The door opened, but it was not the warrior who opened it.

Senator Rashas stood in the doorway.

“What is this?” he demanded in an amazed tone, staring from the warrior to Alhana. The senator’s face went livid with anger. “Guards! Seize them!”

Qualinesti elves, wearing the swords and uniform of the city guard, surged past Rashas. Samar drew his sword, threw himself in front of his queen. The guards drew their swords.

Gil had no weapon, wouldn’t have known what to do with one anyway.

The blood pounded in his ears. He had been almost paralyzed with fear when Rashas first appeared. That fear had evaporated. Gil’s blood burned. He felt light-headed and calm, ready to fight. Tensing, he was about to leap ...

“Stop this madness!”

Alhana flung herself in the midst of the combatants. Her hands, soft and white, grabbed the blade of Samar’s sword and thrust aside the blade of the guard threatening him.

“Samar, put your weapon away,” she ordered, speaking Silvanesti, her voice shaking with emotion and anger.

“But my queen!” he began, pleading.

“Samar! That is my command!” she returned.

Slowly, reluctantly, Samar lowered his sword. But he did not sheathe it.

Alhana turned to face Rashas.

“So this is what it has come to,” she said. “Elf killing elf. Is this what you want, Rashas?”

Alhana held out her hands. Her flesh was cut, bleeding.

Rashas was unmoved, his face hard and cold. The Qualinesti guards, however, looked uncomfortable, lowered their weapons, and backed up a pace. Gil stared at the blood on the queen’s hands and was deeply ashamed of his own bloodlust.

“It is not I who brought us to this pass, my lady,” Rashas said coolly, “but you. By attempting this escape, you have flaunted the lawful decree of the Thalas-Enthia.”

“Lawful!” Alhana regarded him with disdain. “I am your queen. You have no right to hold me against my will!”

“Not even a queen is above elven law. We know about the secret treaty, Your Majesty. We know that you and the traitor Porthios have plotted to sell us out to our enemies.”

Alhana stared at him, not understanding. “Treaty ...”

“The treaty known as the Unified Nations.” Rashas sneered. “A treaty that would make us slaves!”

“No, Senator. You don’t understand! You have it all wrong!”

“Do you deny that you conducted talks in secret with the humans and the dwarves?”

“I don’t deny it,” Alhana answered with dignity. “The talks had to be kept secret. The matter is too delicate; it is toodangerous. There are things happening in the world you don’t know about. You can’t possibly understand—”

“You are right, my lady,” Rashas interrupted. “I do not understand. I do not understand how you could sell us into bondage, give away our lands.”

Alhana was imperious, calm. “You are a blind fool, but that is beside the point. Our negotiations were legal. We broke no law.”

“On the contrary, my lady!” Rashas was losing patience. “Elven law demands that all treaties be voted on by the Thalas-Enthia!”

“We were going to present it to the senate. I swear this to you—”

“A Silvanesti oath?” Rashas laughed in disdain.

“Forgive me, my queen, for my disobedience,” Samar said in a low voice. Taking hold of Alhana, the warrior shoved his queen protectively into Gil’s arms.

Sword raised, the Silvanesti warrior sprang at Rashas.

The Qualinesti guard closed with him. Steel rang as swords clashed.

Rashas stumbled backward into a safe corner. Gil placed his own body in front of Alhana. She watched in horror, powerless to intervene.

The Qualinesti guards outnumbered Samar four to one. He fought valiantly, but they managed to overwhelm and disarm him. Even then, he fought on. The guards struck him with their fists and the flat of their blades until he fell, senseless, to the floor.

It was the first time Gil had seen blood drawn in violence. He was sickened by the sight and by his own impotent rage.

Alhana knelt beside the fallen Samar.

“This man is badly injured.” She looked up at the Qua linesti. “Take him to the healers.”

The guard turned to Rashas. “Is that your will, Senator?”

Alhana paled, bit her lip.

Rashas was once more in control of the situation. “Take him to the healers. When they are finished with him, throw him into prison. He may well pay for this act of treason with his life. One of you guards, return with me to the senate. I must inform them of what has occurred. The rest of you escort Alhana Starbreeze back to her chambers. No, not you, Prince Gilthas. I want to have a word with you.”

Defiant, Gil shook his head.

Alhana rose, came to him, rested her hand on his arm. “You are a Qualinesti prince,” she said to him earnestly, intently. “And the son of Tanis Half-Elven. You have courage enough for this.”

Gil didn’t quite understand, but it occurred to him that he might bring more trouble down on her if he refused to listen to Rashas.

“Will you be all right, Queen Alhana?” he asked, emphasizing the word.

She smiled at him. Then, walking with dignity, accompanied by her guards, Alhana left the room.

When she was gone, the senator turned to Gil.

“I am deeply sorry for this unfortunate incident, my prince. I take the responsibility completely upon myself. I should never have quartered you with that cunning woman. I should have foreseen that she would coerce you into going along with her treacherous scheme. But you are safe now, my prince.” Rashas was soothing, reassuring. “I will find other quarters for you this night.”

Gil knew what his father would do in this situation. Tanis would have swallowed hard and then he would have slugged Rashas.

Grace under pressure.

Hitting Rashas would solve nothing, however, only make matters worse. Gil knew what his mother would do.

Sighing regretfully, Gil assumed a calm and placid expression that gave away nothing of his thoughts, an expression he’d seen more than once on his mother’s face.

“I thank you for your concern, Senator.”

Rashas nodded, then continued smoothly on. “The members of the Thalas-Enthia want very much to meet you, Prince Gilthas. They asked me to bring you to tonight’s meeting. That is why I returned early. I was sent to bring you to the senate chamber. Fortunate, don’t you think? It shows the gods are with me.”

god, at least, Gil thought grimly. Or should I say goddess?

“But you don’t look well.” Rashas was all sympathetic concern. “Not surprising. You were in grave danger from that conniving female.” He lowered his voice. “There are some who say she is a witch. No, no. Don’t try to talk, my prince. I will convey your apologies to the senate.”

“Please, do that, Senator,” Gil said. He could play this game, too. He only wished he had a clearer understanding of the rules.

Rashas bowed. “Sleep well, tonight, Prince Gilthas. You have a busy schedule ahead of you tomorrow. It is not every day that a man is crowned king.”

With a gesture, the senator summoned one of his Kagonesti servants.

“Take His Highness to new quarters—away from the witch. And see to it that he is not disturbed."