Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [145]
Alhana need not have worried. Such was the distrust between humans and elves, that they spoke to each other only out of politeness. Not even Lord Gunthar’s impassioned speech in which he had declared, “Our unity begins peace; our division ends hope!” made an impression.
Porthios’s answer to this had been to blame the dragons’ reappearance on the humans. The humans, therefore, could extricate themselves from this disaster. Shortly after Porthios made his position clear, Alhana rose haughtily and left, leaving no one with any doubts about the position of the Silvanesti.
The mountain dwarf, Arman Kharas, had declared that his people would be willing to help, but that until the Hammer of Kharas was found, the mountain dwarves could not be united. No one knew at the time that the companions would soon return the Hammer, so Gunthar was forced to discount the aid of the dwarves. The only person, in fact, who offered help was Kronin Thistleknott, chief of the kender. Since the last thing any sane country wanted was the “aid” of an army of kenders, this gesture was received with polite smiles, while the members exchanged horrified looks behind Kronin’s back.
The first Council disbanded, therefore, without accomplishing much of anything.
Gunthar had higher hopes for this second Council meeting. The discovery of the dragon orb, of course, put everything in a much brighter light. Representatives from both elven factions had arrived. These included the Speaker of the Suns, who brought with him a human claiming to be a cleric of Paladine. Gunthar had heard a great deal about Elistan from Sturm, and he looked forward to meeting him. Just who would represent the Silvanesti, Gunthar wasn’t certain. He assumed it was the lord who had been declared regent following Alhana Starbreeze’s mysterious disappearance.
The elves had arrived on Sancrist two days ago. Their tents stood out in the fields, gaily colored silk flags fluttering in brilliant contrast to the gray, stormy sky. They were the only other race to attend. There had not been time to send a message to the mountain dwarves, and the hill dwarves were reported to be fighting for their lives against the dragonarmies; no messenger could reach them.
Gunthar hoped this meeting would unite the humans and the elves in the great fight to drive the dragonarmies from Ansalon. But his hopes were dashed before the meeting began.
After scanning the report from the armies in Palanthas, Gunthar left his tent, preparing to make a final tour of the Glade of the Whitestone to see that everything was in order. Wills, his retainer, came dashing after him.
“My lord,” the old man puffed, “return immediately.”
“What is it?” Gunthar asked. But the old retainer was too much out of breath to reply.
Sighing, the Solamnic lord went back to his tent where he found Lord Michael, dressed in full armor, pacing nervously.
“What’s the matter?” Gunthar said, his heart sinking as he saw the grave expression on the young lord’s face.
Michael advanced quickly, seizing Gunthar by the arm. “My lord, we have received word that the elves will demand the return of the dragon orb. If we won’t return it, they are prepared to go to war to recover it!”
“What?” Gunthar demanded incredulously. “War! Against us! That’s ludicrous! They can’t—Are you certain? How reliable is this information?”
“Very reliable, I’m afraid, Lord Gunthar.”
“My lord, I present Elistan, cleric of Paladine,” Michael said. “I beg pardon for not introducing him earlier, but my mind has been in a turmoil since he first brought me this news.”
“I have heard a great deal about you, sir,” Lord Gunthar said, extending