Avenger - Richard Baker Page 0,1

way. Beneath the softly falling snow, a sleigh of white wood pulled by a single dappled horse came into view. The horse’s harness was fixed with tiny silver bells, a merry sound as the animal pranced along the way. Two elves rode in the sleigh, a lord and lady draped in long robes against the chill of the evening. They were of the moon elf kindred, almost as pale as the snow themselves, with dark hair and dark eyes. Geran bowed politely as they approached, and waited for them to pass on by. But to his surprise, the elf woman drew up the reins and stopped the sleigh. He thought that her companion glanced sharply at her, perhaps annoyed, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Well met, stranger,” the woman said. She spoke Common with a light, lilting accent, and looked much like a slender human girl not much more than eighteen or nineteen years in age. Of course, it was difficult indeed for a human to guess at an elf’s age. She had a fine-featured face, bewitching violet eyes, and a dancer’s unconscious grace; Geran was smitten where he stood. “Have you lost your way in the snow?”

“No, my lady,” he answered. “I only paused a moment to listen to the music.”

She cocked her head to listen for a moment, and then laughed softly. “Then you might be here for some time. That is the Miiraeth len Fhierren, the Song of Winter’s Turning, and it has only just begun. This is the longest night of the year, and it will not end until sunrise. Many would call you fortunate to hear it completely. But I imagine you would hear it much better if you paused somewhere a little closer.”

Geran grimaced, wondering what sort of fool he looked like, standing out in the middle of the forest to catch the merest strain of an elven melody. The young woman’s companion smiled at him, almost as if he sensed how ridiculous Geran felt, but his eyes held a hint of wariness. “Not all who roam these forests are friends, Alliere,” he said. “It might be wise to find out who this fellow is, and what he is doing on our doorstep. What is your business in Myth Drannor, sir?”

Geran didn’t care for the elf’s manner, but it was a fair question. “I am Geran Hulmaster of the family Hulmaster. I intend to call on House Ysfierre, since I knew a kinsman of theirs.” He shrugged. “After that … I’ve heard that the coronal sometimes takes skilled blades into her service. I thought I might offer mine, if she’ll have it.”

“Oh, you’re one of those, then,” the elf replied with a laugh. “They seem to come from all corners of Faerûn to lay their swords at Ilsevele’s feet, sometimes a dozen in a tenday. I regret to inform you that the Coronal Guard is adequately staffed at the moment. You’ve most likely walked a long way for nothing.”

Geran bit back the retort that leaped to his lips. He doubted that this elf would believe him if he claimed to be a little more seasoned or skilled than most rootless dreamers who came this way. Instead he looked over to the beautiful elf woman, and inclined his head. “Not for nothing,” he said evenly. “I’ve heard the Fair Folk singing the Miiraeth len Fhierren in the silver beeches of Cormanthor, and I’m the richer for it.”

She smiled, and unlike her companion, her smile was warm and merry. “Well answered, Geran Hulmaster! Please, join us and allow me to drive you the rest of the way. I can see that you’ve had a long, cold journey, but at least we can ease the last mile for you. Tomorrow will bring what it brings.”

Under most circumstances Geran would have declined, since it was clear to him that the woman’s companion preferred to have her company for himself. But the fellow had enjoyed a laugh at his expense twice now, and Geran was in no hurry to lose sight of the elf woman—Alliere, that was her name, he told himself. “My thanks, dear lady,” he said. Before he could change his mind, he climbed up into the sleigh and found a little space in the comfortable seat beside her, pointedly ignoring the flash of irritation that crossed her companion’s face. “You are very kind.”

She spread the blanket covering her lap over his as well, and flicked the reins lightly. The sleigh gave a little start as it began