Kieri’s memory of Midwinter night came to him again. “You fear what is below,” he said.

“She deserves better,” Amrothlin said, not answering directly. “If not the high mountain she loved, then a glade she loved almost as well. Two days’ journey, carrying her without the aid of the elvenhome, and a day and night of singing, and two days’ return. I swear to you, lord king, I will return here in five days, six at the most, if you permit.”

Kieri nodded. He had many questions for Amrothlin, but this was not the time to press them. “What of the others?” he asked.

“We would take them there as well, but if the queen wishes—if the king wishes—the queen’s father could be laid straight nearer.”

Arian shook her head. “My father died trying to save the Lady’s life; he should lie where she lies.”

Amrothlin bowed deeply. “Arian daughter of Dameroth, you are a daughter of the taig as well. I thank you. Forgive me for my earlier discourtesy.”

Arian nodded without answering, stroked her father’s face one more time, and folded her hands in her lap.

“Very well,” Kieri said. “Know that you take my sorrow as companion—for the Lady’s death and for the deaths of these others. Will you at least tell me the name of this one?” He gestured to the other elf. “I want to honor them properly when I tell of this day.”

“Silwarthin,” Amrothlin said. “I have known him since my own childhood.”

“I am sorry,” Kieri said. He could not think of more to say that would not diminish the moment.

He and Arian rose and moved back as more elves came into the salle carrying frames of branch and vine. Though Amrothlin said the elvenhome had passed away, a similar silvery light brightened around them as they lifted the bodies onto these biers and then the biers onto their shoulders. Four each carried Dameroth and Silwarthin, and eight carried the Lady, with more elves before and behind. Kieri and Arian followed this procession out of the salle and across the palace courtyard to the gates and there halted, seeing the glow of it vanish into the trees across the way.

Now only Tolmaric’s body remained in the salle, a single King’s Squire keeping watch. “Now,” Arian said, facing him, “you will take off that mail and let us see if indeed you have no wound.”

“It’s only a bruise—”

“We do not know that, and you have looked more exhausted every moment. I insist.”

Kieri looked at the King’s Squire watching over Tolmaric’s body. “I will send another to relieve you,” he said. “I must go.” The stench of blood on his clothes sickened him suddenly.

“Of course, sir king.”