Free Dragonlance 02 - Dragons of Winter Night by Margaret Weis
Authors: Margaret Weis
gallant effort to rise proved too much for the knight. He took a step forward, and found a hauberk thrust in front of him.
“Kill me if you will,” the knight said to the guard, “but I am going to the aid of the lady.”
The guard blinked and stepped back, his eyes looking up at the Lord for orders. The Lord shook his head slightly. Tanis, watching closely, held his breath. Then he thought he saw the Lord smile, quickly covering it with his hand.
“My lady, allow me to assist you,” Sturm said with the courtly, old-fashioned politeness long lost in the world. His strong hands gently raised her to her feet.
“You had better leave me, sir knight,” the woman said, her words barely audible from behind her veil. But at the sound of her voice, Tanis and Gilthanas gasped softly, glancing at each other. “You do not know what you do,” she said. “You risk your life—”
“It is my privilege to do so,” Sturm said, bowing. Then he stood near her protectively, his eyes on the guards.
“She is Silvanesti elven!” Gilthanas whispered to Tanis. “Does Sturm know?”
“Of course not,” Tanis said softly. “How could he? I barely recognized her accent myself.”
“What could she be doing here? Silvanesti is far away—”
“I—” Tanis began, but one of the guards shoved him in the back. He fell silent just as the Lord started to speak.
“Lady Alhana,” he said in a cold voice, “you were warned to leave this city. I was merciful last time you came before me because you were on a diplomatic mission from your people, and protocol is still honored in Tarsis. I told you then, however, you could expect no help from us and gave you twenty-four hours to depart. Now I find you still here.” He looked over at the guards. “What is the charge?”
“Trying to buy mercenaries, milord,” the constable replied. “She was picked up in an inn along the Old Waterfront, milord.” The constable gave Sturm a scathing glance. “It was a good thing she didn’t meet up with this lot. Of course, no one in Tarsis would aid an elf.”
“Alhana,” Tanis muttered to himself. He edged over to Gilthanas. “Why is that name familiar?”
“Have you been gone from your people so long you do not recognize the name?” the elf answered softly in elven. “There was only one among our Silvanesti cousins called Alhana. Alhana Starbreeze, daughter of the Speaker of the Stars, princess of her people, ruler when her father dies, for she has no brothers.”
“Alhana!” Tanis said, memories coming back to him. The elven people were split hundreds of years before, when Kith-Kanan led many of the elves to the land of Qualinesti following the bitter Kinslayer Wars. But the elven leaders still kept in contact in the mysterious manner of the elflords who, it is said, can read messages in the wind and speak the language of the silver moon. Now he remembered Alhana—of all elfmaidens reputed to be the most beautiful, and distant as the silver moon that shone on her birth.
The draconian leaned down to confer with the Lord. Tanis saw the man’s face darken, and it seemed as if he was about to disagree, then he bit his lip and, sighing, nodded his head. The draconian melted back into the shadows once more.
“You are under arrest, Lady Alhana,” the Lord said heavily. Sturm took a step nearer the woman as the guards closed in around her. Sturm threw back his head and cast them all a warning glance. So confident and noble did he appear, even unarmed, that the guards hesitated. Still, their Lord had given them an order.
“You better do something,” Flint growled. “I’m all for chivalry, but there’s a time and a place and this isn’t either!”
“Have you got any suggestions?” Tanis snapped.
Flint didn’t answer. There wasn’t a damn thing any of them could do and they knew it. Sturm would die before one of those guards laid a hand on the woman again, even though he had no idea who this woman was. It didn’t matter.
“Kill me if you will,” the knight said to the guard, “but I am going to the aid of the lady.”
The guard blinked and stepped back, his eyes looking up at the Lord for orders. The Lord shook his head slightly. Tanis, watching closely, held his breath. Then he thought he saw the Lord smile, quickly covering it with his hand.
“My lady, allow me to assist you,” Sturm said with the courtly, old-fashioned politeness long lost in the world. His strong hands gently raised her to her feet.
“You had better leave me, sir knight,” the woman said, her words barely audible from behind her veil. But at the sound of her voice, Tanis and Gilthanas gasped softly, glancing at each other. “You do not know what you do,” she said. “You risk your life—”
“It is my privilege to do so,” Sturm said, bowing. Then he stood near her protectively, his eyes on the guards.
“She is Silvanesti elven!” Gilthanas whispered to Tanis. “Does Sturm know?”
“Of course not,” Tanis said softly. “How could he? I barely recognized her accent myself.”
“What could she be doing here? Silvanesti is far away—”
“I—” Tanis began, but one of the guards shoved him in the back. He fell silent just as the Lord started to speak.
“Lady Alhana,” he said in a cold voice, “you were warned to leave this city. I was merciful last time you came before me because you were on a diplomatic mission from your people, and protocol is still honored in Tarsis. I told you then, however, you could expect no help from us and gave you twenty-four hours to depart. Now I find you still here.” He looked over at the guards. “What is the charge?”
“Trying to buy mercenaries, milord,” the constable replied. “She was picked up in an inn along the Old Waterfront, milord.” The constable gave Sturm a scathing glance. “It was a good thing she didn’t meet up with this lot. Of course, no one in Tarsis would aid an elf.”
“Alhana,” Tanis muttered to himself. He edged over to Gilthanas. “Why is that name familiar?”
“Have you been gone from your people so long you do not recognize the name?” the elf answered softly in elven. “There was only one among our Silvanesti cousins called Alhana. Alhana Starbreeze, daughter of the Speaker of the Stars, princess of her people, ruler when her father dies, for she has no brothers.”
“Alhana!” Tanis said, memories coming back to him. The elven people were split hundreds of years before, when Kith-Kanan led many of the elves to the land of Qualinesti following the bitter Kinslayer Wars. But the elven leaders still kept in contact in the mysterious manner of the elflords who, it is said, can read messages in the wind and speak the language of the silver moon. Now he remembered Alhana—of all elfmaidens reputed to be the most beautiful, and distant as the silver moon that shone on her birth.
The draconian leaned down to confer with the Lord. Tanis saw the man’s face darken, and it seemed as if he was about to disagree, then he bit his lip and, sighing, nodded his head. The draconian melted back into the shadows once more.
“You are under arrest, Lady Alhana,” the Lord said heavily. Sturm took a step nearer the woman as the guards closed in around her. Sturm threw back his head and cast them all a warning glance. So confident and noble did he appear, even unarmed, that the guards hesitated. Still, their Lord had given them an order.
“You better do something,” Flint growled. “I’m all for chivalry, but there’s a time and a place and this isn’t either!”
“Have you got any suggestions?” Tanis snapped.
Flint didn’t answer. There wasn’t a damn thing any of them could do and they knew it. Sturm would die before one of those guards laid a hand on the woman again, even though he had no idea who this woman was. It didn’t matter.