Kellen nodded, understanding the oblique remark. Idalia and Vestakia looked puzzled. Obviously Jermayan had not shared the news with them.
"I think that's enough plain speaking for now," Kellen said slowly. If they spoke of the matter any further here, it would be all over the camp in a matter of minutes. Tent walls were thin, and Elven ears were sharp. Even if nobody spoke of the matter openly and the rituals of Elven politeness would ensure that they'd still all know.
"Then let it remain so," Jermayan agreed.
"I suppose you'll explain things eventually," Idalia muttered darkly. "Tomorrow," Jermayan promised. "Upon the wing."
"But aren't you going with them, Kellen?" Vestakia asked, obviously puzzled.
"Ancaladar can only carry one passenger," Jermayan said. "And Kellen must remain to give orders to the army. If there is true need of his presence, or Cilarnen's, in Sentarshadeen, I will leave Idalia there and return."
It was a hard choice, but Kellen knew it was the right one for him to have made.
"There's just one thing I'd like you to do for me before you go," Kellen said.
"It would be interesting to discover what that thing might be, should you wish to tell it," Jermayan answered, both his tone and his words overly-formal to the point of subtle Elven humor.
"Build me a bridge, of your courtesy," Kellen responded in the same vein.
Chapter Twelve
To Build a Bridge
THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Kellen, Jermayan, and Ancaladar stood at the edge of the Angarussa.
Kellen had explained what he needed: a stone bridge, suitable for cavalry and heavy carts. By the time Keirasti got here, the bridge would be covered with snow and probably ice as well, so the sledgewagons should pass over it easily enough.
He'd almost thought Jermayan would refuse flat out.
"Kellen, there has never been a bridge over the Angarussa here," the Elven Knight said, shaking his head.
Idalia had made a small sound of exasperation, throwing up her hands. "Perhaps you will tell Keirasti that, when she arrives, Jermayan. I'm sure that will impress her."
"A bridge of ice " Jermayan had suggested.
"Isn't strong enough. Will melt in the spring. Won't handle the traffic to the caverns once they've been turned into a fortress," Kellen had pointed out, sounding exasperated.
"Beloved, it is time to try new things," Ancaladar had said gently, settling the matter. "I am sure it will be a fine bridge."
"Very well," Jermayan said, acknowledging defeat. "I should know better than to argue with a dragon."
"Indeed you should," Ancaladar agreed. "Riddles are far more effective."
* * * * *
THERE was an interested party of observers standing a little distance away, including Vestakia, Idalia, and Cilarnen. Jermayan walked to the very edge of the river, gazing down into the water.
The edges had begun to freeze, though it would be moonturns yet before the whole river froze again. As Kellen and Ancaladar watched, Jermayan paced back and forth through the snow, his eyes half-closed, until Kellen began to wonder if anything were ever going to happen at all.
Suddenly the air began to shimmer.
Beneath their feet, the ice creaked and groaned as it split. Kellen jumped back out of the way. The mantle of snow and ice had been pushed upward several inches in a wide fan extending several dozen yards in every direction on this side of the river, as if by something suddenly appearing beneath.
Stone began to form in the air.
At first it was like fog, and Kellen doubted his eyes. But no, it was truly there, growing outward from this side of the river, low and wide enough for two ox-carts to cross side-by-side. As the fog drifted out over the river, the parts at the near bank became solid; Kellen could see that Jermayan's bridge was made of granite.
There was a subtle pattern of river currents etched into the stone, mimicking the currents beneath. The texturing of the stone would also keep the granite from becoming too slippery in the rain, of course; the Elves were nothing if not practical.
More fog swirled up, forming a railing along the sides of the bridge. Tall river rushes, a leaping fish silhouetted against them, here an angular river-bird Kellen knew without being told that its long beak was meant to hold a lantern to light the bridge in the dark there an otter, jumping up in play to snatch at a hovering dragonfly…
In moments, the fog-turned-stone had reached the far side of the river. There was another crackling and buckling of ice as it sunk stone roots deep into the earth on the far side.
Kellen regarded the result in awe.
It was a bridge that looked like… water.
But the more he gazed at it, the less it looked as though it belonged here. Unlike every other creation of the Elves', it did not fit. It seemed as if it intruded on the landscape, instead of growing out of it. It demanded the attention immediately, instead of revealing itself slowly, in a series of unexpected yet pleasant surprises.
It was… intrusive.
Jermayan took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
Kellen turned to him and bowed, very deeply.
"I think you've won the argument," he said. "A bridge does not belong here. But we need one. And it is beautiful."
Jermayan regarded the bridge, obviously still unreconciled to it. "Perhaps, some day, it can be swept away again," he said. "I believe it is time to go," Ancaladar said.
* * * * *
THE flight to Sentarshadeen was short a good thing, as the heavy weather that the Wildmages had predicted was already starting to set in. This far to the south and west, the snow was wetter and heavier than what they had been used to north of the Mystrals; even on the short flight, it caked both Idalia and Jermayan's flying-furs, until they resembled snow-figures.
On the journey, Jermayan at last told her the contents of the message that Keirasti had brought to Redhelwar.
"Leaf and Star," Idalia groaned, after sitting a long time in silence. "Jermayan, this is… This is the worst possible time… "
"Yes," Jermayan answered simply.
There was no need to say anything more.
* * * * *
ANCALADAR landed near the house of Leaf and Star. A curious herd of unicorns, their coats fluffed out against the cold and caked with falling snow, quickly gathered at a safe distance to observe this interesting sight.