by Roger Moore
Come with me, then, said the fal. The image of One Six Nine faded into the air – and so did the black-haired kender, with a shriek of surprise. If you wish to lean. I have much to teach you, Gaeadrelle Goldring.
*****
“The gnomes’ ship is departing, Captain Kilian.”
The one who was addressed made no movement away from the forward window on the bridge, through which he peered at the distant landscape. Perhaps a minute passed. The aide cleared his throat, preparing to repeat the statement.
“I am aware of that,” said the silver-armored elf at last, without turning around. “When it is gone, we will go, too, and return to the Rock of Bral.”
The aide blinked in confusion. “If you will forgive me for saying so. Captain, it might be wise to make one last attempt to recover the cloak from Teldin Moore.”
“No.” said the captain. He still didn’t move. “We must not pursue him. Our duty is to inform the Imperial Fleet of the enemy’s presence and actions, and of our own losses. We are the last of the Rock of Bral’s fleet, and we are responsible for the safety of our people first. We have nothing more to gain by chasing unicorns.”
The aide frowned. He had expected a different answer. “But the gnome ship is not effectively armed, Captain. We would have no trouble in capturing it and taking …”
The aide’s voice faded as Kilian turned. A cold blue gaze stabbed out from the older elf’s sharp-featured face.
“That path was already attempted– with grave losses,” the captain said. “There was no honor in our hunt. We paid for our arrogance with our comrades’ lives. Would you have us now bargain with our own?”
The aide caught his breath. “I meant, Captain, that … that we …” Seconds passed; he flushed with embarrassment. ‘The admiral wanted us to get the cloak,” he finished.
The captain stared at his aide a moment longer, then turned back to the window of the man-o-war, looking down at the swirling clouds a thousand miles below him. “The admiral is dead, and we have other considerations now,” he murmured. “Teldin Moore cannot be our concern. Perhaps the grand admiral will fee! differently, but it is of no matter to me for the moment. We must warn our people of real dangers, not make sacrifices to legends.” The elf seemed about to say more, but stopped.
Another minute or two passed before Kilian heard the door close behind him. He let out his breath in a long sigh and searched the vista before him for any sign of the gnomes’ black ship. He saw nothing, but he had expected that.
“You are free for now,” he whispered to the window. “I will let you depart in peace, but others will not. May the wind carry you wherever you run, Teldin Moore. May the wind be fast and sure. You cannot run forever.”
Table of Contents
Title page
Copyright
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen