The leader of the three warriors said, “I judge there are many questions to be answered, but this is not the place, nor is it the time. Come, we have two days of travel to reach the Queen’s court.”
“The little ones are tired,” said Miranda, “and they are frightened.”
The elf looked down and saw the boys. His eyes widened slightly, a gesture that would have been lost on most humans, though Miranda marked his surprise. “Twins?”
Ellia looked at Miranda, who answered, “They are.”
Another elf warrior said, “I shall go now and carry word to the court.” He turned and vanished into the woods.
The first elf made a gesture and the remaining elf nodded once and followed after his companion. To Miranda the first said, “I am called Galain. My companions are Althal, who is returning to our campsite to prepare food for you, and the other is Lalial, who will take word to the Queen and her consort.”
He shouldered his bow, then, without asking leave, knelt and picked up the two boys as easily as he might have picked up two kittens. The boys looked at their mother, but neither child voiced protest. Miranda touched Ellia’s shoulder, then motioned with her head that they should follow their guide.
Miranda used her natural sight to keep the others in view. Her arts were depleted by the battle on the riverbank. It had been a short struggle, but no less vicious for its brevity. Through her exhaustion, Miranda felt the satisfaction of knowing that on the other side of the world the Pantathian magician who had thrown that tracking energy after her had not expected her counterspell. With grim pleasure, she knew he was now a smoldering corpse.
They reached camp without having spoken a word. The fire was burning brightly as Althal placed more wood on it, and rich smells of smoke and crisping game reached Miranda’s nose.
The boys were now asleep and Galain gently set them down upon the ground. Softly he said, “It will be light in a few hours. They can eat when they awake.”
The elven woman sat heavily upon the ground, and Miranda knew she was exhausted, emotionally as well as physically. Her home had been destroyed and certainly her husband was dead, and suddenly she was in a strange place with people she didn’t know, without even the most basic personal possessions to call her own. In the language of her homeland, she said, “Who are you?”
Switching into Yabonese, the language of the neighboring Kingdom province, and related to the ancient language of Kesh, the common ancestor of the language spoken by Ellia, Galain said, “I am named Galain. We are of the eledhel—as are you.”
“I do not know this word eledhel,” said Ellia, outwardly calm, though Miranda knew she must be terribly frightened.
“It means ‘the light people,’ in our own language. There is much you will need to know. But to begin, ages ago our race was divided into four tribes, for want of a better term. Those who are eldest among us, the eldar, are the keepers of wisdom. Those who live here in Elvandar and serve Queen Aglaranna are called eledhel. There are others: glamredhel, the wild ones, and moredhel, the dark ones. Some years ago we learned of your people, whom we call ocedhel, ‘people from across the sea.’ We are not sure if you are properly glamredhel or eledhel who have lost knowledge of their own race. But either way, you are welcome to Elvandar. We live here.” He smiled. “We are like you. Here you will be safe.”
Ellia looked pointedly at his face, studying his eyes. As if reading her thoughts, he pushed back his long hair to show her the upswept, lobeless ears that marked elvenkind. She sighed in relief. “Safe . . .” she repeated. Her tone showed she scarcely believed.
Miranda said, “You will learn that you are as safe here as anyplace on this world.”
Ellia nodded, hugging her knees to her chin as she closed her eyes. After a moment, a tear appeared upon her cheek and she sighed.
Galain left her to her memories, and spoke to Miranda. “You make an impressive entrance.”
Spitting the word, Miranda said, “Snakes.”
Galain’s eyes narrowed. “The serpent men?”
Miranda nodded.
Galain said, “We will leave as soon as the boys awake and eat. Sleep now if you can.”
Miranda didn’t need convincing. She lay upon the damp ground where she sat, and within moments was fast asleep.
The boys rode upon the shoulders of Galain and Althal, while Ellia and Miranda hurried along. Miranda knew they were not moving as quickly as they would have been able to unburdened, but she had to struggle to keep pace. Only Ellia’s awkwardness gave her some small comfort, for it was a lifetime living in the woodlands that gave these elves their surefooted passage in the undergrowth, not their race.