Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [49]
“No!” Alhana spoke to the griffons in elven. “I command you! Keep going! I must reach the Tower!”
But the griffons circled lower and lower, ignoring her.
“What is it?” Tanis asked. “Why are we stopping? We’re in sight of the Tower. What’s the matter?” He looked all around. “I see nothing to be concerned over.”
“They refuse to go on,” Alhana said, her face drawn with worry. “They won’t tell me why, only that we must travel on our own from here. I don’t understand this.”
Tanis didn’t like it. Griffons were known as fierce, independent creatures, but once their loyalty was gained, they served their masters with undying devotion. The elven royalty of Silvanesti have always tamed griffons for their use. Though smaller than dragons, the griffons’ lightning speed, sharp talons, tearing beak, and lion-clawed hind feet made them enemies to be respected. There was little they feared on Krynn, so Tanis had heard. These griffons he remembered, had flown into Tarsis through swarms of dragons without apparent fear.
Yet now the griffons were obviously afraid. They landed on the banks of the river, refusing all of Alhana’s angry, imperious commands to fly farther. Instead, they moodily preened themselves and steadfastly refused to obey.
Finally there was nothing for the companions to do but climb off the griffons’ backs and unload their supplies. Then the bird-lion creatures, with fierce, apologetic dignity, spread their wings and soared away.
“Well, that is that,” said Alhana sharply, ignoring the angry glances she felt cast at her. “We shall simply have to walk, that’s all. The way is not far.”
The companions stood stranded upon the riverbank, staring across the sparkling water into the forest beyond. None of them spoke. All of them were tense, alert, searching for trouble. But all they saw were the aspen trees glistening in the last, lingering rays of sunset. The river murmured as it lapped on the shore. Though the aspens were green still, the silence of winter blanketed the land.
“I thought you said your people fled because they were under siege?” Tanis said to Alhana finally.
“If this land is under control of dragons, I’m a gully dwarf!” Caramon snorted.
“We were!” Alhana answered, her eyes scanning the sunlit forest. “Dragons filled the skies, as in Tarsis! The dragonmen entered our beloved woods, burning, destroying—” Her voice died.
Caramon leaned near Riverwind and muttered, “Wild goose chase!”
The Plainsman scowled. “If it’s nothing more than that, we’ll be fortunate,” he said, his eyes on the elfmaid. “Why did she bring us here? Perhaps it’s a trap.”
Caramon considered this a moment, then glanced uneasily at his brother, who had not spoken or moved or taken his strange eyes from the forest since the griffons left. The big warrior loosened his sword in its scabbard and moved a step nearer Tika. Almost accidentally, it seemed, their two hands clasped. Tika cast a fearful look at Raistlin but held onto Caramon tightly.
The mage just stared fixedly into the wilderness.
“Tanis!” Alhana said suddenly, forgetting herself in her joy and putting her hand on his arm. “Maybe it worked! Maybe my father defeated them, and we can come home! Oh, Tanis—” She trembled with excitement. “We’ve got to cross the river and find out! Come! The ferry landing’s down around the bend—”
“Alhana, wait!” Tanis called, but she was already running along the smooth, grassy bank, her long full skirts fluttering around her ankles. “Alhana! Damn it. Caramon and Riverwind, go after her. Goldmoon, try to talk some sense into her.”
Riverwind and Caramon exchanged uneasy glances, but they did as Tanis ordered, running along the riverbank after Alhana. Goldmoon and Tika followed