Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [95]
“Huma’s story does not end happily,” Sturm said, frowning at the kender. “But he died most gloriously in battle, defeating the leader of the dragons, though he himself had sustained a mortal wound. I have heard, though,” the knight added thoughtfully, “that he rode to battle upon a Silver Dragon.”
“And we saw a knight on a silver dragon in Ice Wall,” Tas said brightly. “He gave Sturm the—”
The knight gave the kender a swift poke in the back. Too late, Tas remembered that was supposed to be secret.
“I don’t know about a Silver Dragon,” Silvara said, shrugging. “My people know little about Huma. He was, after all, a human. I think they tell this legend only because it is about the river they love, the river who takes their dead.”
At this point, one of the Kaganesti pointed at Gilthanas and said something sharply to Silvara. Gilthanas looked at her, not understanding. The elfmaid smiled. “He asks if you are too grand an elflord to paddle, because—if you are—he will allow your lordship to swim.”
Gilthanas grinned at her, his face flushing. Quickly he picked up his paddle and set to work.
Despite all their efforts—and by the end of the day even Tasslehoff was paddling again—the journey upstream was slow and taxing. By the time they made landfall, their muscles ached with the strain, their hands were bloody and blistered. It was all they could do to drag the boats ashore and help hide them.
“Do you think we’ve thrown off the pursuit?” Laurana asked Theros wearily.
“Does that answer your question?” He pointed downstream.
In the deepening dusk, Laurana could barely make out several dark shapes upon the water. They were still far down river, but it was clear to Laurana that there would be little rest for the companions tonight. One of the Kaganesti, however, spoke to Theros, gesturing downstream. The big smith nodded.
“Do not worry. We are safe until morning. He says they will have to make landfall as well. None dare travel the river at night. Not even the Kaganesti, and they know every bend and every snag. He says he will make camp here, near the river. Strange creatures walk the forest at night—men with the heads of lizards. Tomorrow we will travel by water as far as we can, but soon we will have to leave the river and take to land.”
“Ask him if his people will stop the Qualinesti from pursuing us if we enter his land,” Sturm told Theros.
Theros turned to the Kaganesti elf, speaking the elven tongue clumsily but well enough to be understood. The Kaganesti elf shook his head. He was a wild, savage-looking creature. Laurana could see how her people thought them only one step removed from animals. His face revealed traces of distant human ancestry. Though he had no beard—the elven blood ran too purely in the veins of the Kaganesti to allow that—the elf reminded Laurana vividly of Tanis with his quick, decisive way of speaking, his strong, muscular build, and his emphatic gestures. Overcome with memories, she turned away.
Theros translated. “He says that the Qualinesti must follow protocol and ask permission from the elders to enter Kaganesti lands in search of you. The elders will likely grant permission, maybe even offer to help. They don’t want humans in Southern Ergoth any more than their cousins. In fact,” Theros added slowly, “he’s made it plain that the only reason he and his friends are helping us now is to return favors I’ve done in the past and to help Silvara.”
Laurana’s gaze went to the girl. Silvara stood on the riverbank, talking to Gilthanas.
Theros saw Laurana’s face harden. Looking at the Wilder elf and the elflord, he guessed her thoughts.
“Odd to see jealousy in the face of one who—according to rumor—ran away to become the lover of my friend, Tanis, the half-elf,” Theros remarked. “I thought you were different from your people, Laurana.”
“It’s not that!” she said sharply, feeling her skin burn. “I’m not Tanis’s lover. Not that it makes any difference. I simply don’t trust the girl. She’s—well—too eager to help us, if that makes any sense.