Calin waited until Martin and Arutha had remounted. “We are only a half days travel to Elvandar.” He and the other elves began their run through the forest. Except for Martin, the riders were surprised at the pace the elves set. It was not taxing for the mounts, but for a human runner to keep it up for a half day would be close to impossible.
After a short while Arutha drew even with Calin, who loped along at an easy pace. “Where did those creatures come from?”
Calin shouted, “No one knows, Arutha. They’re a comic lot. They come from some place to the north, perhaps beyond the great mountains. They will show up, stay a season or two, then vanish. We sometimes call them the little wood ghosts. Even our trackers can’t follow them after they depart. It’s been nearly fifty years since their last visit, and two hundred since the one before that.” Calin breathed easily as he ran in long, fluid strides.
“How fares Tomas?” asked Martin.
‘The Prince Consort fares well.”
“What of the child?”
“He is well. He is a fit, handsome child, though he may prove somewhat different. His heritage is . . . unique.”
“And the Queen?”
“Motherhood agrees with her,” answered her elder son with a smile.
They fell into silence, for Arutha found it difficult to continue the conversation while negotiating the trees, even if Calin did not. Swiftly through the forest they traveled, each passing minute bringing them closer to Elvandar and hopes fulfilled . . . or hopes dashed.
The journey was soon completed. One moment they were traveling through heavy forest, then they entered a large clearing. This was the first glimpse any of them, save Martin, had had of Elvandar.
Giant trees of many colors rose high above the surrounding forest. In the afternoon light the topmost leaves seemed ablaze with color where golden sunlight struck them. Even from this distance, figures could be seen along the high paths spanning the gaps between boles. Several of the giant trees were unique to this place, their leaves a dazzling silver, gold, or even white. As the day’s shadows deepened, they could be seen to have a faint glow of their own. It was never truly dark in Elvandar.
As they crossed the clearing, Arutha could hear die astonished comments of his companions.
Roald said, “Had I known . . . you’d have had to tie me up to keep me from coming along.”
Laurie agreed. “It makes the weeks in the forest worth it.”
Baru said, “The tales of our singers do not do justice to it.”
Arutha awaited a comment from Jimmy, but when the voluble lad said nothing, Arutha looked behind. Jimmy rode in silence, his eyes drinking in the splendor of this place, so alien from anything seen in his life. The usually jaded boy had finally encountered something so outside his experience, he was truly awestruck.
They reached the outer boundary of the tree-city and on all sides could hear the soft sounds of a busy community. A hunting party approached from another quarter, bearing a large stag, which they carried off to be butchered. An open area outside the trees was set aside for the dressing of carcasses.
They reached the trees and reined in. Calin instructed his companions to care for the horses and led Arutha’s party up a circular stairway carved into the trunk of the biggest oak the Prince and the others had ever seen. Reaching a platform at the top, they passed a group of elven fletchers practicing their craft. One saluted Martin, who returned the greeting and briefly inquired if he might impose upon their generosity. With a smile, the fletcher handed Martin a bundle of finely crafted bowshafts, which the Duke placed in his nearly empty quiver. He spoke quick thanks in the elven tongue and he and his companions continued onward.
Calin led them up another steep stairway to a platform. He said, “From here it may prove difficult for some of you. Keep to the center of the paths and platforms and do not look down if you feel discomforted. Some humans find the heights distressing.” He said the last as if it was almost incomprehensible.
They crossed the platform and mounted more steps, passing other elves hurrying about their business. Many were dressed like Calin, in simple woods garb, but others wore long colorful robes, fashioned of rich fabrics, or bright tunics and trousers, equally colorful. The women were all beautiful, though it was a strange, inhuman loveliness. Most of the men looked young, about Calin’s age. Martin knew better. Some elves hurrying past were young, twenty, thirty years of age, while others, equally young in appearance, were several hundred years old. Though he looked younger than Martin, Calin was past a hundred and had taught Martin hunting skills when the Duke had been a boy.