The Kagonesti by Douglas Niles

Author:Douglas Niles [Niles, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Speculative Fiction, The Lost Histories Volume 1
ISBN: 9780786900916
Amazon: 0786900911
Publisher: TSR
Published: 1995-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Ashtaway approached the rendezvous from the east, going many miles out of his way. He trusted Sir Kamford as much as it was possible to trust any non-Kagonesti, but his natural caution required that he take every measure to guard against betrayal. Thus he crossed two low, wooded ridges and traversed a shallow marsh just to ensure that his route could not be anticipated or intercepted. This legacy of caution seemed more important to him than ever before, perhaps because of the spiral horn he bore at his side.

Moving through the pine woods of the mountain valley, Ash scanned the skies, the ridgetops, and the surrounding slopes for any signs of danger. He saw a small herd of deer grazing near one of the crests. This was a good sign. The animals certainly would have sought shelter if they had sensed humans in the vicinity. Still, the elf did not relax even as he ascended back to the ridge and looked toward the deep, bowl-shaped valley where he had arranged to meet Sir Kamford and his force of knights.

The familiar basin sprawled before him in apparently pristine solitude. A wide fringe of flower-speckled meadow surrounded a grove of towering cedars, with another small meadow visible in the center of that grove. Though the dense needles of the upper limbs created a barrier to any observation from above, the wild elf knew that the floor of the grove was smooth and comfortable. No underbrush grew in the dense shadows, and the large trunks were well separated. Even a good-sized company of men and horses would be able to conceal themselves there, camping in relative comfort.

A spring bubbled from a stony embankment on the opposite side of the grove, providing plenty of fresh water. The encircling meadow bloomed with ample pasture for the horses, while the shallow outflow of water created a stream stocked with plump trout. On several occasions Ashtaway had eaten well here – simply by lying beside the narrow brook, carefully reaching in with his hand, and flipping out as many of the tasty fish as he desired.

Now the whole scene looked as peaceful and undisturbed as he remembered. Located far from any communities and from the eastern trade routes, the valley made an ideal rendezvous. Sanction lay forty or fifty miles to the north, with numerous sheer, sharp ridges rising throughout the intervening distance. Over the past six or seven decades, however, Ashtaway had discovered routes around the most precipitous of these heights, as well as the best routes of ascent and descent to the multitude of passes.

The sun had barely reached noon on the day of the meeting when the elf settled in to watch. Also near zenith, preceding the sun as if it lured the fiery orb across the sky, the sliver of the moon Lunitari gleamed against the pale blue background, as it had one cycle earlier when Ash and Sir Kamford had arranged this rendezvous.

Careful to remain below the crest of the ridge, the wild elf found a shaded, rocky niche, where he was fully concealed from observation above or below.

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