Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [42]
“The fate of mankind is my business, whether it be in this part of Krynn or another,” the Dragon Highlord returned. “And the might of my sword-arm gives me all the right I need to command you, gallant red. As for my bidding, I ask that you capture these pitiful humans, do not kill them. They are wanted for questioning. Bring them to me. You will be well rewarded.”
“Look!” called a young female red. “Griffons!”
The Dragon Highlord gave an exclamation of astonishment and displeasure. The dragons looked down to see three griffons sweeping up out of the smoke. Not quite half the size of a red dragon, griffons were noted for their ferocity. Draconian troops scattered like ashes in the wind before the creatures, whose sharp talons and ripping beaks were tearing the heads from those reptile-men unlucky enough to have been caught in their path.
The red snarled in hatred and prepared to dive, his flight with him, but the Dragon Highlord swooped down in front of him, causing him to pull up.
“I tell you, they must not be killed!” the Dragon Highlord said sternly.
“But they’re escaping!” the red hissed furiously.
“Let them,” the Highlord said coldly. “They will not go far. I relieve you of your duty in this. Return to the main body. And if that idiot Toede mentions this, tell him that the secret of how he lost the blue crystal staff did not die with Lord Verminaard. The memory of Fewmaster Toede lives on—in my mind—and will become known to others if he dares to challenge me!”
The Dragon Highlord saluted, then wheeled the large blue dragon in the air to fly swiftly after the griffons, whose tremendous speed had allowed them to escape with their riders well past the city gates. The red watched the blues disappear through the night skies in pursuit.
“Shouldn’t we give chase as well?” asked the female red.
“No,” the red male replied thoughtfully, his fiery eyes on the figure of the Dragon Highlord dwindling in the distance. “I will not cross that one!”
“Your thanks are not necessary, or even wanted,” Alhana Starbreeze cut off Tanis’s halting, exhausted words in mid-sentence. The companions rode through the slashing rain on the backs of three griffons, clutching their feathered necks with their hands, peering apprehensively down at the dying city falling rapidly away beneath them.
“And you may not wish to extend them after you hear me out,” Alhana stated coldly, glancing at Tanis, riding behind her. “I rescued you for my own purposes. I need warriors to help me find my father. We fly to Silvanesti.”
“But that’s impossible!” Tanis gasped. “We must meet our friends! Fly to the hills. We can’t go to Silvanesti, Alhana. There’s too much at stake! If we can find these dragon orbs, we have a chance to destroy these foul creatures and end this war. Then we can go to Silvanesti—”
“Now we are going to Silvanesti,” Alhana retorted. “You have no choice in the matter, Half-Elven. My griffons obey my command and mine alone. They would tear you apart, as they did those dragonmen, if I gave the order.”
“Someday the elves will wake up and find they are members of a vast family,” Tanis said, his voice shaking with anger. “No longer can they be treated as the spoiled elder child who is given everything while the rest of us wait for the crumbs.”
“What gifts we received from the gods we earned. You humans and half-humans”—the scorn in her voice cut like a dagger—“had these same gifts and threw them away in your greed for more. We are capable of fighting for our own survival without your help. As to your survival, that matters little to us.”
“You seem willing enough to accept our help now!”
“For which you will be well-rewarded,” Alhana returned.
“There is not steel nor jewels enough in Silvanesti to pay us—”
“You seek the dragon orbs,” Alhana interrupted. “I know where one is located. It is in Silvanesti.”
Tanis blinked. For a moment, he could think of nothing to say, but the mention of the dragon orb brought back thoughts of his friend. “Where’s Sturm?” he asked