Under the Green Star

I felt curiously glad that I had the day off, due to my guard duty the previous night; for thus it would be impossible for Yurgon to have selected me to be one of the guards assigned to accompany the envoys hither by a circuitous route.

Not that it was very likely that any of the envoys could have recognized me—although several high lords of Ardha had accompanied the tyrant-prince to the court of Phaolon on the day of my revivification, and the envoys might just possibly have been among them. At any rate, we all awaited the arrival of the embassy with high curiosity and not a little suspense.

The scene was to be the great hall of the outlaw stronghold. The fire in the circular pit had been heaped high with dry fuel and the flames leaped halfway to the smoke-blackened rafters far overhead, casting a brilliant orange light across the huge room. The tables and benches had been cleared away, and the entire strength of the outlaw band was assembled to hear the words of the envoy. Or almost the entire strength, for the clever queen of the foresters did not overlook the possibility of duplicity. A war party might be lying hidden, waiting to follow the blindfolded ambassadors back to the Secret City and take it by surprise. So on this night of nights, Siona had commanded tall, gray-bearded Phryne, who had that night’s guard captaincy, to triple his men, employing far-flung and seldom-used stations. And all in the great room had weapons to hand, ready to leap to the defense of their hidden lair should it be attacked.

Siona, decked in war gear, sat on the dais in the great carved throne-like chair that had been her father’s. For this rare occasion the Amazon girl wore breast-cups of beaten gold over hard copper, an abbreviated skirt of leather straps studded with small metal plates, and a barbaric headdress of gold and violet plumes. Gold bangles flashed on her strong wrists; gold bands encircled her tanned bare arms; and a gold-hilted dagger was slung about her slim waist. She looked every inch a queen, and I could not help admiring her openly, much to Niamh’s obvious annoyance.

As for Siona, she never once looked in my direction. She had avoided the great hall of the stronghold since the night of our argument, and had taken her meals in her own apartments; on the occasions when she could not avoid my company, she had ignored me with a stony reserve that continued to baffle me.

A trumpeter beyond the hall set his horn to his lips and music rang out in a signal that denoted the arrival of the envoys from Ardha. Even now their cockleshell chariot was settling to the level branch before the hall and the gorgeous wings of immense zaiph were fluttering to stillness.

The doors were flung open; Yurgon appeared, guiding the blindfolded envoys past the screens and curtains that were erected before the outer door every nightfall, to keep any trace of light from betraying the location of the encampment.