Greendaughter (Book 6) by Anne Logston

obviously more wearied than the mage. “She joined him in his thoughts. I felt it. He is right. It was a great risk. I think you have cast two spells for one.”
    “But why—” Rivkah began.
    “Never mind, never mind,” Sharl interrupted in the human tongue. “We need to leave as quickly as possible, and if they can understand me now, then the language lesson is over and we can go.”
    Rivkah glanced at the elves dubiously.
    “I understand you,” Valann said in the same language, then raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.
    “As do I,” Chyrie said, then grimaced. The strange sounds seemed to grate at her throat.
    “Good,” Sharl said, unimpressed. He turned to Rowan. “If you will permit us, then, we must be on our way. My people have preparations to make, no less than yours—more, if we are to fulfill the terms you have set upon us. Will you allow us to leave, so that we waste no more riding light?”
    “You may go,” Rowan said calmly. “Your riding beasts await you, and we have replenished your supplies of food and drink, and given you gifts and samples of trade goods to take back to your people with you.”
    Sharl stared at her blankly, then scowled.
    “You knew I would agree. You knew it all along,” he demanded.
    Rowan smiled.
    “Naturally I knew,” she said. “No true leader of his people could have chosen otherwise. Take that as praise, if you will, for I cannot fault your courage, nor your loyalty to those who look to you for guidance. Now go to them, and think upon us with what kindness you can.”
    Sharl beckoned imperiously to them, and Rivkah, Romuel, and Doria quickly followed; Chyrie and Valann, however, lingered to walk more slowly with Rowan, while Dusk disappeared on some errand.
    “Messages have been sent to the clans between here and the city,” Rowan told them. “All but Blue-eyes have answered, agreeing to allow you safe passage.”
    “But are the Blue-eyes not the westernmost clan,” Valann asked, “at the very edge of the forest?”
    “Yes, and that concerns me,” Rowan said, her brow wrinkling. “Their clan has been most harassed of all by the humans, and at one time, when they lived more to the east, there was an old enmity with us. They are most hostile about their boundaries, and who can fault them for it? But they will not answer our sendings at all. I cannot speak for their behavior.”
    Chyrie cut a strip of blue-dyed leather from the hem of her tunic and twisted it with the green cord she had worn before, and tied the two around her arm.
    “This should suffice,” she said. “If the Blue-eyes have at least heard your messages, they know that we but pass through their lands briefly, and no matter how unfavorably they might look upon the humans, they would not molest an elven woman with child.”
    “I pray you are correct,” Rowan said somberly. “I am half minded to send some of my people with you, but that might be seen as a greater affront, if they still hold hostility against my people. So far as I know, they could have no quarrel with Wilding, and they know the blessing of the Mother Forest you bear, Chyrie. You should be safe enough.” She hesitated.
    “What troubles you?” Valann asked.
    “I would ask something more of you,” Rowan said slowly. “Wilding did not answer my messages. I would ask that you add your word to mine, and send a message to your people asking your Eldest at least to hear my words and consider them. I cannot order you to do so, but I ask it.”
    Valann and Chyrie looked soberly at each other.
    “I will send the message,” Chyrie said at last, “for you have treated us with kindness beyond all expectation. But I must tell you that if our Eldest heard your words, still he will not agree to join with you. Of that I am certain. But I will ask him as you say.”
    By this time they had reached the central clearing of the village, where the horses were indeed waiting. Chyrie had to chuckle; each animal had been festooned with