Satisfied, Silvara returned to the group. Laurana saw that, though Silvara spoke to Theros, the girl's eyes were drawn to Gilthanas. Finding him staring at her, she blushed and looked quickly back at Theros.
"Kargai Sargaron;" she said hurriedly, "my people are coming, but you should be with me to meet them and explain things:" Silvara's blue eyes-Laurana could see them clearly in the morning light-went to Sturm and Derek. The Wilder elf shook her head slightly. "They will not be happy about bringing these humans to our land, nor these elves either, I am afraid;' she said, with an apologetic glance at Laurana and Gilthanas.
"I will talk to them;" Theros said. Gazing across the lake, he gestured. "Here they come now:"
Laurana saw two black shapes sliding across the sky-gray river. The Kaganesti must keep watch there constantly, she realized. They recognized Silvara's call. Odd-for a slave to have such freedom. If escape was this easy, why did Silvara stay among the Silvanesti? It didn't make any sense-. . . unless escape was not her purpose.
"What does 'Kargai Sargaron' mean?" she asked Theros abruptly.
" 'He of the Silver Arm; " Theros answered, smiling..
"They seem to trust you:'
"Yes. I told you I spend a good part of my time wandering. That is not quite true. I spend much time among Silvara's people:" The smith's dusky face creased in a scowl. "Meaning no disrespect, elflady, but you have no idea what hardships your people are causing these wild ones: shooting the game or driving it away, enslaving the young with gold and silver and steel:" Theros heaved an angry sigh. "I have done what I could. I showed them how to forge hunting weapons and tools. But the winter will be long and hard, I fear. Already, game is becoming scarce. If it comes to starving or killing their elven kin-"
"Maybe if I stayed;" Laurana murmured, "I could help-" Then she realized that was ridiculous. What could she do? She wasn't even accepted by her own people!
"You can't be in all places at the same time;" Sturm said. "The elves must solve their problems, Laurana. You are doing the right thing:"
"I know;" she said, sighing. She turned her head, looking behind her, toward the Qualinesti camp. "I was just like them, Sturm," she said, shivering. "My beautiful tiny world had revolved around me for so long that I thought I was the center of the universe. I ran after Tanis because I was certain I could make him love me. Why shouldn't he? Everyone else did. And then I discovered the world didn't revolve around me. It didn't even care about me! I saw suffering and death. I was forced to kill"-she stared down at her hands-"or be killed. I saw real love. Love like Riverwind's and Goldmoon's, love that was willing to sacrifice everything-even life itself. I felt very petty and very small. And now that's how my people seem to me. Petty and small. I used to think they were perfect, but now I understand how Tanis felt-and why he left:"
The boats of the Kaganesti had reached the shore. Silvara and Theros walked down to talk to the elves who paddled them. At a gesture from Theros, the companions stepped out of the shadows of the trees and stood upon the bank-hands well away from their weapons-so the Kaganesti could see them. At first, it seemed hopeless. The elves chattered in their strange, uncouth version of elven which Laurana had difficulty follow
ing. Apparently they refused outright to have anything to do
with the group.
Then horn calls sounded from the woods behind them. Gilthanas and Laurana looked at each other in alarm. Theros, glancing back stabbed his silver finger at the group urgently, then thumped himself on the chest-apparently pledging his word to answer for the companions. The horns sounded again. Silvara added her own pleas. Finally, the Kaganesti agreed, although with a marked lack of enthusiasm.
The companions hurried down to the water, all of them aware now that their absence had been discovered and that pursuit had started. One by one, they all stepped carefully into the boats that were no more than hollowed-out trunks of trees. All, that is, except Flint, who groaned and cast himself down on the ground, shaking his head and muttering in dwarven. Sturm eyed him in concern, fearing a repetition of the incident at Crystalmir when the dwarf had flatly refused to set foot in a boat. It was Tasslehoff, however, who tugged and pulled ,and finally dragged the grumbling dwarf to his feet.
"We'll make a sailor of you yet;" the kender said cheerfully, prodding Flint in the back with his hoopak.
"You will not! And quit sticking me with that thing!" the dwarf snarled. Reaching the edge of the water, he stopped, nervously fumbling with a piece of wood. Tas hopped into a boat and stood waiting expectantly, his hand outstretched.
"Confound it, Flint, get in the boat!" Theros ordered,
"Just tell me one thing;' the dwarf said, swallowing. "Why do they call it 'the River of the Dead'?"
"You'll see, soon enough;' Theros grunted. Reaching out his strong black hand, he plucked the dwarf off the bank .and plopped him like a sack of potatoes on to the seat. "Shove off;" the smith told the Wilder elves, who needed no bidding.. Their wooden oars were already biting deep into the water.
The log boat caught the current and floated swiftly downstream, heading west. The tree-shrouded banks fairly flew past, and the companions huddled down into the boats as the cold wind stung their faces and took away their breath. They saw no signs of life along the southern share where the Qualinesti made their home. But Laurana caught glimpses of shadowy, darting figures ducking in and out of the trees on the northern shore. She realized then that the Kaganesti were not as naive as they seemed-they were keeping close waEdin upon their cousins. She wondered how many of the Kaganesti living as slaves were, in reality, spies. Her eyes went to Silvara.
The current carried them swiftly to a fork in the river where two streams joined together. One flowed from the north, the other-the stream they traveled-flowed into it from the east. Both merged into one wide river, flowing south into the sea. Suddenly Theros pointed.
"There, dwarf, is your answer;" he said solemnly.
Drifting down the branch of the river that flowed from the north was another boat. At first, they thought it had slipped its moorings, for they could see no one inside. Then they saw that it rode too low in the water to be empty. The Wilder elves slowed their own boats, steering them into the shallow water, and held them steady, heads bowed in silent respect.
And then Laurana knew.
"A funeral boat;" she murmured.
"Aye;" said Theros, watching with sad eyes. The boat drifted past, carried near them by the current. Inside they could see the body of a young Wilder elf, a warrior to judge by his crude leather armor. His hands, folded across his chest, clasped an iron sword in cold fingers. A bow and quiver of arrows lay at his side. His eyes were closed in the peaceful sleep from which he would never waken.
"Now you know why it is called Thon-Tsalarian, the River of the Dead;" Silvara said in her low, musical voice. "For centuries, my people have returned the dead to the sea where we were born. This ancient custom of my people has become a bitter point of contention between the Kaganesti and our cousins:" Her eyes went to Gilthanas. "Your people consider this a desecration of the river. They try to force us to stop:'
"Someday the body that floats down the river will be Qualinesti, or Silvanesti, with a Kaganesti arrow in his chest;" Theros predicted. "And then there will be war:"
"I think all the elves will have a much more deadly enemy to face;' Sturm said, shaking his head. "Look!" He pointed.
At the feet of the dead warrior lay a shield, the shield of the enemy he had died fighting. Recognizing the foul symbol traced on the battered shield, Laurana drew in her breath.
"Draconian!"
The journey up the Thon-Tsalarian was long and arduous, for the river ran swift and strong. Even Tas was given an oar to help paddle, but he promptly lost it overboard, then nearly went in headfirst trying to retrieve it. Catching hold of Tas by his belt, Derek dragged him back as the Kaganasti indicated by sign language that if he caused any more trouble, they'd throw him out.
Tasslehoff soon grew bored and sat peering over the side, hoping to see a fish.
"Why, how odd!" the kender said suddenly. Reaching down, he put his small hand into the water. "Look;" he said in excitement. His hand was coated in fine silver and sparkled in the early morning light. "The water glitters! Look, Flint;' he called to dwarf in the other boat. "Look into the water-"
"I will not;" said the dwarf through chattering teeth. Flint rowed grimly, though there was some question as to his effectiveness. He steadfastly refused to look into the water and consequently was out of time with everyone else.
"You are right, Kenderken;' Silvara said, smiling. "In Fact, the Silvanesti named the river Thon-Sargan, which means Silver Road. It is too bad you have come here in such dismal weather. When the silver moon rises in its fullness, the river turns to molten silver and is truly beautiful."
"Why? What causes it?" the kender asked, studying his shimmering hand with delight.
"No one knows, though there is a legend among my people-" Silvara fell silent abruptly, her face flushed.
"What legend?" Gilthanas asked. The elflord sat facing Silvara, who was in the prow of the boat. His paddling was not much better than Flint's, Gilthanas being much more interested in Silvara's face than his work. Every time Silvara looked up, she found he was staring at her. She became more confused and flustered as the hours passed.
"Surely you are not interested;" she said, gazing out across the silver-gray water, trying to avoid Gilthanas's gage. 'It is a child's tale about Huma-'
"Humal" Sturm said from where he sat behind Gilthanas, his swift, strong oar strokes making up for the ineptness of both elf and dwarf. "Tell us your legend of Huma, Wilder elf.'"
"Yes, tell us your legend;" Gilthanas repeated smiling.
"Very well;' she said, flushing. Clearing her throat, she began. "According to the Kaganesti, in the last days of the terrible dragon wars, Huma traveled through the land, seeking to help the people. But he realized-to his sorrow-that he was powerless to stop the desolation and destruction of the dragons. He prayed to the gods for an answer." Silvara glanced at Sturm, who nodded his head solemnly.
"True;" the knight said. "And Paladine answered his prayer, sending the White Stag. But where it led him, none know:"
"My people know;' Silvara said softly, "because the Stag led Huma, after many trials and dangers, to a quiet grove, here, in the land of Ergoth. In the grove he met a woman, beautiful and virtuous, who eased his pain. Huma fell in love with her and she with him. But she refused his pledges of love for many months. Finally, unable to deny the burning fire within her, the woman returned Huma's love. Their happiness was like the silver moonlight in a night of terrible darkness:"
Silvara fell silent a moment, her eyes staring far away. Absently she reached down to touch the coarse fabric of the cloak covering the dragon orb which lay at her feet.
"Go on;' Gilthanas urged. The elflord had given up all pretext of paddling and sat still, enchanted by Silvara's beautiful eyes, her musical voice.