"That's the obvious route-so it's the only one we can't take," Kagonos replied. "It's essential to approach an enemy from a direction he does not expect you to come."

"Besides," said Kyrill with a sly grin, propping one fopc on a craggy rock as he leaned against the ravine wall, "the view's a lot better from up here!"

"No city can offer a vista like that," Kagonos agreed, reverently allowing his eyes to sweep across the expanse of mountains and distant plain. From this height, the silver ribbon of the Vingaard River was barely visible, many miles from the foothills.

"Why is it that Silvanos and the House Elves seek to hide themselves within walls?" Dall asked, showing the naivete of his youthful eighty-four years. "Are they all cowards?"

"Most likely," said Kyrill. At two hundred, he had seen enough of life to make him, in his own eyes, an expert on most topics. "Either that, or they're afraid that if they wander into the forest, all their women will come running to us!"

Suddenly Kagonos felt very tired-tired of war, tired of climbing, tired of watching out for the lives of the brothers who, since the death of his parents early in the war, were the only family he had on all of Krynn. Other warriors, by the time they had earned the right to paint the spirals of paint on their chests, had taken wives. Some even had children, a legacy to extend into future centuries. But for Kagonos there was none of that, not for the centuries since he had become the Pathfinder, the hope of his people.

"Many geese flew over this spring," Dall said quietly. "The hunting in the fall will be rich, don't you think?"

"Aye," Kyrill agreed, grateful for the change of subjects.

"If the war's over, we'll have our pick of the marshes- and 1 intend to find the one where they're packed so close that each arrow will bring down two geese!"

"Wishful thinking, my keen-eyed brother," Kagonos said, forcing a chuckle. "Though if there is an archer among the Elderwild who could do it, it is you."

"Do you really think the war will end soon?" Dall asked, shaking his head in wonder. "The shamans say that it might-that the gods will so decree. And for years Balif's legions have pounded Talonian, with the cavalry and griffons of General Quithas riding all across Ansa- lon-but still Silvanos has not been able to win ultimate victory over the ogres."

Kagonos spat at the mention of Silvanos's commander of cavalry, the renowned griffon-rider himself. "Quithas is not as great as they say. Even he would bleed red blood if cut."

"But all the tales… I've heard that his legion can ride a hundred miles in a day and then attack an enemy army during the night. And still he wins the battle! Are these exaggerations?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps not. But no single general, no one army, can stem a tide of evil that has flowed for a hundred and fifty years. And, for all his arrogance, Quithas is but a single elf-even if he does augment his speed by riding a horse, or a griffon!"

Kyrill could not miss the bitterness in his older brother's tone. "This Quithas… he is the same you met in the mountains, before I was born. The hunter?"

Quithas sought to kill the Grandfather Ram-he ¦•v'nose horn I keep at my side. But I took the Griffon- tamer's weapon-this axe I still carry-and he fled from the valley."

Eyes wide, Dall looked at Kagonos. "You challenged -.be mighty general-and he fled?" he asked, awestruck.

Like the wretched cur he is," the Pathfinder replied mmlv, his jaws tightening at the memory. "Though he " is not Silvanos's general at the time-indeed, that was before the war. Though even then, Quithas seemed hungry for strife. He told me that he would one day lead many elves in battle."

"And so he does-and will, until we can end the war," Kyrill noted.

"Which might be today!" Dall exclaimed.

"If we can capture the Bluestone and take it to Silvanos-or to Darlantan," Kagonos agreed cautiously.

"Are you certain the stone lies beyond this summit?" Kyrill inquired.

"As certain as I can be. Darlantan thought that my intuition was correct," Kagonos snapped.

"That's good enough for me," Kyrill said with a shrug.

"But what if the blue dragons or the army of Talonian destroys Silvanos on the plain? Then what will happen?" Dall pressed.

"What if the face of Krynn splits apart and we all fall into the hole?" demanded Kagonos. He knew that such questions were part of elven nature, but why could such elves not remain silent? Roughly he forced his temper down. 'Then we die, and evil holds sway across the world! Darlantan says that the blue dragons will not be here for two days, at least. Furthermore, I do not think Talonian can defeat Silvanos. Apparently, the ogre chief has his own doubts-else why would he conceal the dragon talisman so far from the main body of his army?"

"Perhaps because he doesn't fear the Elderwild," Kyrill said.

"Then let us make him pay for his mistake," Kagonos replied as he climbed to his feet and turned once more toward the ascent.

The gorge continued steeply upward, and the three nimble elves leapt over the snow-covered boulders that littered its floor, moving quickly after their brief rest.

Kagonos, still in the lead, felt a growing sense of disquiet. He wanted to protect his brothers-for many decades he had protected them-from the terrible violence of war. The tribe had dwelled in the forest, moving often, never camping under the open sky, and it had been years since the Elderwild of his or any other band had been swept into a major battle.

The chieftain's thoughts returned to the present as he saw blue sky yawning beyond the next curve of the gorge. "Careful," he whispered. "We're almost to the top-don't reveal yourself over the horizon."

Ignoring the chill of the snow, Kagonos dropped to his hands and knees, creeping forward to the crest of the mountainside. At the top, he very slowly lifted his forehead until his keen eyes could see into the vale beyond.

It was as he remembered. The circular crater in the center of the summit was steep-sided and broad, a dazzling bowl of snow-lined whiteness. A wide expanse of flatness formed the bottom, several hundred feet below. Though it was featureless now beneath winter's blanket, that flat area could only be the frozen surface of a lake. The island rose as a cone in the center, barely two hundred paces from the shore, and atop that rise he clearly saw ogres. In the week since his first discovery, the brutes had cleared away the snow from their camp and had spent some time piling rocks around the perimeter to form an improvised wall. Kagonos saw no sign of any lookouts on the mountain's rim, or even of any organized attempt to keep watch beyond the makeshift wall.

"They're still here," he told his brothers, before fixing his eyes on Kyrill. His plan, which had begun to form with his first reconnaissance, now fell into place. "Get the warriors and bring them to the top. Dall, bring Chief Bar- calla and the warriors of the Silvertrouts, Whitetails, and Bluelake here. This is where we will make our attack.

"Kyrill, I want you to take forty braves and circle around the mountain. Go with Chief Felltree and some of hi› Black Feather braves. When you get to that notch over there, wave your sword-let the sun flicker off the blade. I want you to start the attack, to divert the ogres toward the west. Then the bulk of the tribe will come down from this›ide. gaining some measure of surprise."

Kagonos took his brother's arm and stared into his eyes. Kyrill's face was flushed with excitement, and his hands tensed around the hilt of his weapon. Once again the Elderwild Pathfinder felt that stab of regret and apprehension, but with action so close he had no choice but to force it away.

"Kyrill, listen," he ordered tautly. "When you draw close to that island, bring your warriors around the lake and join the attack from this side. 1 don't want the forty of you trying to climb that hill in the face of all the ogres in the camp. Do you understand?"