“Mercenaries, undoubtedly, milord.” the constable said.
“We are not mercenaries,” Sturm said, coming to stand before the bench, his bearing proud and noble. “We come out of the northern Plains of Abanasinia. We freed eight hundred men, women, and children from the Dragon Highlord, Verminaard, in Pax Tharkas. Fleeing the wrath of the dragon armies, we left the people hidden in a valley in the mountains and traveled south, hoping to find ships in the legendary city of Tarsis. We did not know it was landlocked, or we would not have bothered.”
The Lard frowned. “You say you came from the north? That is impossible. No one has ever come safely through the mountain kingdom of the dwarves in Thorbardin.”
“If you know ought of the Knights of Solamnia, you know we would die sooner than tell a lie-even to our enemies.” Sturm said. “We entered the dwarven kingdom and won safe passage by finding and restoring to them the lost Hammer of Kharas.”
The Lord shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the draconian who sat behind him. “I do know somewhat of the knights,” he said reluctantly. “And therefore I must believe your story, though it sounds more a child’s bedtime tale than-”
Suddenly the doors banged open and two guards strode in, roughly dragging a prisoner between them. They thrust the companions, aside as they flung their prisoner to the floor. The prisoner was a woman. Heavily veiled, she was dressed in long skirts and a heavy cape. She lay for a moment on the floor, as if too tired or defeated to rise. Then, seeming to make a supreme effort of will, she started to push herself up. Obviously no one was going to assist her. The Lord stared at her, his face grim and scowling. The draconian behind him had risen to its feet and was looking down at her with interest. The woman struggled, entangled in her cape and her long, flowing skirts.
Then Sturm was at her side.
The knight had watched in horror, appalled at this callous treatment of a woman. He glanced at Tanis, saw the evercautious half-elf shake his head, but the sight of the woman making a 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 recognised her accent myself.”
“What could she be doing here? Silvanesti is far away-”
“A-” Tanis began, but one of the guards shoved him in the back. He fell silent just as the Lard 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 twentyfour 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.”
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