Dragonlance 02 - Dragons of Winter Night (6 page)

“That’s enough, Tas.” Tanis sighed. “Nobody’s blaming you. It isn’t anybody’s fault. We just let our hopes get too high.”

The kender, his feelings mollified, retrieved his map, rolled it up, and slid it into his mapcase with all his other precious maps of Krynn. Then he put his small chin in his hands and sat staring around the table at his gloomy companions. They began to discuss what to do next, talking half-heartedly.

Tas grew bored. He wanted to explore this city. There were all kinds of unusual sights and sounds—Flint had been forced to practically drag him along as they entered Tarsis. There was a fabulous marketplace with wonderful things just lying around, waiting to be admired. He had even spotted some other kenders, too, and he wanted to talk to them. He was worried about his homeland. Flint kicked him under the table. Sighing, Tas turned his attention back to Tanis.

“We’ll spend the night here, rest, and learn what we can, then send word back to Southgate,” Tanis was saying. “Perhaps there is another port city farther south. Some of us might go on and investigate. What do you think, Elistan?”

The cleric pushed away a plate of uneaten food. “I suppose it is our only choice,” he said sadly. “But I will return to Southgate. I cannot be away from the people long. You should come with me, too, my dear.” He laid his hand over Laurana’s. “I cannot dispense with your help.”

Laurana smiled at Elistan. Then, her gaze moving to Tanis, the smile vanished as she saw the half-elf scowl.

“Riverwind and I have discussed this already. We will return with Elistan,” Goldmoon said. Her silver-gold hair gleamed in the sunlight streaming through the window. “The people need my healing skills.”

“Besides which, the bridal couple misses the privacy of their tent,” Caramon said in an audible undertone. Goldmoon flushed a dusky rose color as her husband smiled.

Sturm glanced at Caramon in disgust and turned to Tanis. “I will go with you, my friend,” he offered.

“Us, too, of course,” said Caramon promptly.

Sturm frowned, looking at Raistlin, who sat huddled in his red robes near the fire, drinking the strange herbal concoction that eased his cough.

“I do not think your brother is fit to travel, Caramon—” Sturm began.

“You are suddenly very solicitous of my health, knight,” Raistlin whispered sarcastically. “But then, it is not my health that concerns you, is it, Sturm Brightblade? It is my growing power. You fear me—”

“That’s enough!” said Tanis as Sturm’s face darkened.

“The mage goes back, or I do,” Sturm said coldly.

“Sturm—” Tanis began.

Tasslehoff took this opportunity to leave the table very quietly. Everyone was focused on the argument between the knight, the half-elf, and the magic-user. Tasslehoff skipped out the front door of the Red Dragon, a name he thought particularly funny. But Tanis had not laughed.

Tas thought about that as he walked along, looking at the new sights in delight. Tanis didn’t laugh at anything anymore. The half-elf was certainly carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, it seemed. Tasslehoff suspected he knew what was wrong with Tanis. The kender took a ring out of one of his pouches and studied it. The ring was golden, of elven make, carved in the form of clinging ivy leaves. He had picked it up
in Qualinesti. This time, the ring was not something the kender had “acquired.” It had been thrown at his feet by a heart-broken Laurana after Tanis had returned it to her.

The kender considered all this and decided that splitting up and going off after new adventure was just what everyone needed. He, of course, would go with Tanis and Flint—the kender firmly believed neither could get along without him. But first, he’d get a glimpse of this interesting city.

Tasslehoff reached the end of the street. Glancing back, he could see the Red Dragon Inn. Good. No one was out looking for him yet. He was just about to ask a passing street peddler how to get to the marketplace when he saw something that promised to make this interesting city a whole lot more interesting.…

Tanis settled the argument between Sturm and Raistlin, for the time being at least. The mage decided to stay in Tarsis to hunt for the remains of the old library. Caramon and Tika offered to stay with him, while Tanis, Sturm, and Flint (and Tas) would push southward, picking up the brothers on their way back. The rest of the group would take the disappointing news back to Southgate.

That being settled, Tanis went to the innkeeper to pay for their night’s lodging. He was counting out silver coins when he felt a hand touch his arm.

“I want you to ask to have my room changed to one near Elistan’s,” Laurana said. Tanis glanced at her sharply.

“Why is that?” he asked, trying to keep the harshness out of his voice.

Laurana sighed. “We’re not going to go through this again, are we?”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Tanis said coldly, turning away from the grinning innkeeper.

“For the first time in my life, I’m doing something meaningful and useful,” Laurana said, catching hold of his arm. “And you want me to quit because of some jealous notion you have about me and Elistan—”

“I am not jealous,” Tanis retorted, flushing. “I told you in Qualinesti that what was between us when we were younger is over now. I—” He paused, wondering if that were true. Even as he spoke, his soul trembled at her beauty. Yes, that
youthful infatuation was gone, but was it being replaced by something else, something stronger and more enduring? And was he losing it? Had he already lost it, through his own in-decisiveness and stubbornness? He was acting typically human, the half-elf thought. Refusing that which was in easy reach, only to cry for it when it was gone. He shook his head in confusion.

“If you’re not jealous, then why don’t you leave me alone and let me continue my work for Elistan in peace?” Laurana asked coldly “You—”

“Hush!” Tanis held up his hand. Laurana, annoyed, started to talk, but Tanis glared at her so fiercely, she fell silent.

Tanis listened. Yes, he’d been right. He could hear clearly now the shrill, high-pitched, screaming whine of the leather sling on the end of Tas’s hoopak staff. It was a peculiar sound, produced by the kender swinging the sling in a circle over his head, and it raised the hair on the back of the neck. It was also a kender signal for danger.

“Trouble,” Tanis said softly. “Get the others.” Taking one look at his grim face, Laurana obeyed without question. Tanis turned abruptly to face the innkeeper, who was sidling around the desk. “Where are you going?” he asked sharply.

“Just leaving to check your rooms, sir,” the innkeeper said smoothly, and he vanished precipitously into the kitchen. Just then, Tasslehoff burst through the door of the inn.

“Guards, Tanis! Guards! Coming this way!”

“Surely they can’t be here because of us,” Tanis said. He stopped, eyeing the light-fingered kender, struck by a sudden thought. “Tas—”

“It wasn’t me, honest!” Tas protested. “I never even reached the marketplace! I just got to the bottom of the street when I saw a whole troop of guards coming this direction.”

“What’s this about guards?” Sturm asked as he entered from the common room. “Is this one of the kender’s stories?”

“No. Listen,” Tanis said. Everyone hushed. They could hear the tramp of booted feet coming their direction and glanced at each other in apprehension and concern. “The innkeeper’s disappeared. I thought we got into the city a bit too easily. I should have expected trouble.” Tanis scratched his beard, well aware that everyone was looking to him for orders.

“Laurana, you and Elistan go upstairs. Sturm, you and Gilthanas remain with me. The rest of you go to your rooms. Riverwind, you’re in command. You, Caramon, and Raistlin protect them. Use your magic, Raistlin, if necessary. Flint—”

“I’m staying with you,” the dwarf stated firmly.

Tanis smiled and put his hand on Flint’s shoulder. “Of course, old friend. I didn’t even think you needed telling.”

Grinning, Flint pulled his battle-axe out of its holder on his back. “Take this,” he said to Caramon. “Better you have it than any scurvy, lice-ridden city guards.”

“That’s a good idea,” Tanis said. Unbuckling his swordbelt, he handed Caramon Wyrmslayer the magical sword given to him by the skeleton of Kith-Kanan, the Elven King.

Gilthanas silently handed over his sword and his elven bow.

“Yours, too, knight,” Caramon said, holding out his hand.

Sturm frowned. His antique, two-handed sword and its scabbard were the only legacy he had left of his father, a great Knight of Solamnia, who had vanished after sending his wife and young son into exile. Slowly Sturm unbuckled his swordbelt and handed it to Caramon.

The jovial warrior, seeing the knight’s obvious concern, grew serious. “I’ll guard it carefully, you know that, Sturm.”

“I know,” Sturm said, smiling sadly. He glanced up at Raistlin, who was standing on the stairs. “Besides, there is always the great worm, Catyrpelius, to protect it, isn’t there, mage?”

Raistlin started at this unexpected reminder of a time in the burned-out city of Solace when he had tricked some hobgoblins into believing Sturm’s sword was cursed. It was the closest to an expression of gratitude that the knight had ever made to the mage. Raistlin smiled briefly.

“Yes,” he whispered. “There is always the Worm. Do not fear, knight. Your weapon is safe, as are the lives of those you leave in our care … if any are safe.… Farewell, my friends,” he hissed, his strange, hourglass eyes gleaming. “And a long farewell it will be. Some of us are not destined to meet again in this world!” With that, he bowed and, gathering his red robes around him, began to climb the stairs.

Trust Raistlin to exit with a flourish, Tanis thought irritably, hearing booted feet near the door. “Go on!” he ordered. “If he’s right, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

After a hesitant look at Tanis, the others did as he ordered, climbing the stairs quickly. Only Laurana cast a fearful glance back at Tanis as Elistan took her arm. Caramon, sword drawn, waited behind until the last was past.

“Don’t worry,” the big warrior said uneasily. “We’ll be all right. If you’re not back by night-fall—”

“Don’t come looking for us!” Tanis said, guessing Caramon’s intention. The half-elf was more disturbed than he cared to admit by Raistlin’s ominous statement. He had known the mage many years and had seen his power grow, even as the shadows seemed to gather more thickly around him. “If we’re not back, get Elistan, Goldmoon, and the others back to Southgate.”

Caramon nodded reluctantly, then he walked ponderously up the stairs, his weapons clanking around him.

“It’s probably just a routine check,” Sturm said hurriedly in a low voice as the guards could be seen through the window now. “They’ll ask us a few questions, then release us. But they’ve undoubtedly got a description of
all
of us!”

“I have a feeling it isn’t routine. Not the way everyone’s vanished. And they’re going to have to settle for some of us,” Tanis said softly as the guards entered the door, led by the constable and accompanied by he guard from the wall.

“That’s them!” the guard cried, pointing. “There’s the knight, like I told you. And the bearded elf, the dwarf, and the kender, and an elflord.”

“Right,” the constable said briskly. “Now, where are the others?” At his gesture, his guards leveled their hauberks, pointing them at the companions.

“I don’t understand what all this is about,” Tanis said mildly. “We are strangers in Tarsis, simply passing through on our way south. Is this how you welcome strangers to your city?”

“We don’t welcome strangers to our city,” the constable replied. His gaze shifted to Sturm and he sneered. “Especially a Knight of Solamnia. If you’re innocent as you say you are, you won’t mind answering some questions from the Lord and his council. Where’s the rest of your party?”

“My friends are tired and have gone to their rooms to rest. Our journey has been long and tiring. But we do not want to cause trouble. The four of us will come with you and answer
your questions. (‘Five,’ said Tasslehoff indignantly, but everyone ignored him.) There is no need to disturb our companions.”

“Go get the others,” the constable ordered his men.

Two guards headed for the stairs, which suddenly burst into flame! Smoke billowed into the room, driving the guards back. Everyone ran for the door. Tanis grabbed Tasslehoff, who was staring with wide-eyed interest, and dragged him outside.

The constable was frantically blowing on his whistle, while several of his men prepared to dash off through the streets, raising the alarm. But the flames died as quickly as they had been born.

“Eeep—” The constable choked off his whistle. His face pale, he stepped warily back inside the inn. Tanis, peering over his shoulder, shook his head in awe. There was not a whisper of smoke, not a bit of varnish had so much as peeled. From the top of the stairs, he could hear faintly the sound of Raistlin’s voice. As the constable glanced apprehensively up the stairs, the chanting stopped. Tanis swallowed, then drew a deep breath. He knew he must be as pale as the constable, and he glanced at Sturm and Flint. Raistlin’s power was growing.…

“The magician must be up there,” the constable muttered.

“Very good, Birdwhistle, and how long’d it take you to figure that one out—” Tas began in a tone of voice Tanis knew meant trouble. He trod upon the kender’s foot, and Tas subsided into silence with a reproachful glance.

Fortunately, the constable didn’t appear to have heard. He glared at Sturm. “You’ll come with us peacefully?”

“Yes,” answered Sturm. “You have my word of honor,” the knight added, “and no matter what you may think of the Knights, you know that my honor is my life.”

The constable’s eyes went to the dark stairway. “Very well,” he said finally. “Two of you guards stay here at the stair. The rest cover the other exits. Check anyone coming in and out. You all have the descriptions of the strangers?” The guards nodded, exchanging uneasy glances. The two slated for guard duty inside the inn gave the staircase a frightened look and stood as far from it as possible. Tanis smiled grimly to himself.