Dragons of the Autumn Twilight - Margaret Weis [146]
“Come on! Get back!” Tanis yelled from the woods.
The two stumbled back, fleeing through a rainstorm of arrows as a force of forty or fifty draconians swept around the cage, screeching in anger. The draconians started after them, then fell back when a clear voice called out, “Hai! Ulsain!” and ten elves, led by Gilthanas, ran from the woods.
“Quen talas uvenelei!” Gilthanas shouted. Caramon and Sturm staggered past him, the elves covering their retreat, then the elves fell back.
“Follow me,” Gilthanas told the companions, switching to High Common. At a sign from Gilthanas, four of the elven warriors picked up Theros and carried him into the woods.
Tanis looked back at the cage. The draconians had come to a halt, eyeing the woods warily.
“Hurry!” Gilthanas urged. “My men will cover you.”
Elven voices rose out of the woods, taunting the approaching draconians, trying to lure them into arrow range. The companions looked at each other hesitantly.
“I do not want to enter Elvenwood,” Riverwind said harshly.
“It is all right,” Tanis said, putting his hand on Riverwind’s arm. “You have my pledge.” Riverwind stared at him for a moment, then plunged into the woods, the others walking by his side. Last to come were Caramon and Raistlin, helping Fizban. The old man glanced back at the cage, now nothing more than a pile of ashes and twisted iron.
“Wonderful spell. And did anyone say a word of thanks?” he asked wistfully.
The elves led them swiftly through the wilderness. Without their guidance, the party would have been hopelessly lost. Behind them, the sounds of battle turned half-hearted.
“The draconians know better than to follow us into the woods,” Gilthanas said, smiling grimly. Tanis, seeing armed elven warriors hidden among the leaves of the trees, had little fear of pursuit. Soon all sounds of fighting were lost.
A thick carpeting of dead leaves covered the ground. Bare tree limbs creaked in the chill wind of early morning. After spending days riding cramped in the cage, the companions moved slowly and stiffly, glad for the exercise that warmed their blood. Gilthanas led them into a wide glade as the morning sun lit the woods with a pale light.
The glade was crowded with freed prisoners. Tasslehoff glanced eagerly around the group, then shook his head sadly.
“I wonder what happened to Sestun,” he said to Tanis. “I thought I saw him run off.”
“Don’t worry.” The half-elf patted him on the shoulder. “He’ll be all right. The elves have no love for gully dwarves, but they wouldn’t kill him.”
Tasslehoff shook his head. It wasn’t the elves he was worried about.
Entering the clearing, the companions saw an unusually tall and powerfully built elf speaking to the group of refugees. His voice was cold, his demeanor serious and stern.
“You are free to go, if any are free to go in this land. We have heard rumors that the lands south of Pax Tharkas are not under the control of the Dragon Highlord. I suggest, therefore, that you head southeast. Move as far and as fast as you can this day. We have food and supplies for your journey, all that we can spare. We can do little else for you.”
The refugees from Solace, stunned by their sudden freedom, stared around bleakly and helplessly. They had been farmers on the outskirts of Solace, forced to watch while their homes burned and their crops were stolen to feed the Dragon Highlord’s army. Most of them had never been farther from Solace than Haven. Dragons and elves were creatures of legend. Now children’s stories had come to haunt them.
Goldmoon’s clear blue eyes glinted. She knew how they felt. “How can you be so cruel?” she called out angrily to the tall elf. “Look at these people. They have never been out of Solace in their lives and you tell them calmly to walk through a land overrun by enemy forces—”
“What would you have me do, human?” the elf interrupted her. “Lead them south myself? It is enough that we have freed them. My people have their own problems. I cannot be concerned with those of humans.