Dragons of Autumn Twilight dc-1

by Margaret Weis

  8

  Doubts. Ambush!. A new friend

  The elves woke the companions before dawn. Storm clouds lowered on the northern horizon, reaching like grasping fingers toward Qualinesti. Gilthanas arrived after breakfast, dressed in a tunic of blue cloth and suit of chain mail.

  "We have supplies," he said, gesturing toward the warriors who held packs in their hands. "We can also provide weapons or armament, if you have need."

  "Tika needs armor and shield and sword," said Caramon.

  "We will provide what we can," Gilthanas said, "though I doubt if we have a full set of armor small enough."

  "How is Theros Ironfeld this morning?" Goldmoon asked.

  "He rests comfortably, cleric of Mishakal." Gilthanas bowed respectfully to Goldmoon. "My people will, of course, take him with them when we leave. You may bid him farewell."

  Elves soon returned with armor of every make and description for Tika and a lightweight shortsword, favored by the elven women. Tika's eyes glowed when she saw the helm and shield. Both were of elvish design, tooled and decorated with jewels.

  Gilthanas took the helm and shield from the elf. "I have yet to thank you for saving my life in the Inn," he said to Tika. "Accept these. They are my mother's ceremonial armor, dating back to the time of the Kinslayer wars. These would have gone to my sister, but Laurana and I both believe you are the proper owner."

  "How beautiful," Tika murmured, blushing. She accepted the helm, then looked at the rest of the armor in confusion. "I don't know what goes where," she confessed.

  "I'll help!" Caramon offered eagerly.

  "I'll handle this," Goldmoon said firmly. Picking up the armor, she led Tika into a grove of trees.

  "What does she know about armor?" Caramon grumbled.

  Riverwind looked at the warrior and smiled, the rare, infrequent smile that softened his stem face. "You forget," he said, "she is Chieftain's Daughter. It was her duty, in her father' absence, to lead the tribe to war. She knows a great deal about armor, warrior-and even more about the heart that beats beneath it."

  Caramon flushed. Nervously, he picked up a pack of supplies and glanced inside. "What's this junk?" he asked.

  "Quith-pa', said Gilthanas. "Iron rations, in your language. It will last us for many weeks, if need be."

  "It looks like dried fruit!" Caramon said in disgust.

  "That's what it is," Tanis replied, grinning.

  Caramon groaned.

  Dawn was just beginning to tinge the wispy storm clouds with a pale, chill light when Gilthanas led the party out of Qualinesti. Tanis kept his eyes straight ahead, refusing to look back. He wished that his final trip here could have been happier. He had not seen Laurana all morning and, though he felt relieved to have avoided a tearful farewell, he secretly wondered why she hadn't come to bid him goodbye.

  The trail moved south, descending gradually but constantly. It had been thick and overgrown with brush, but the party of warriors Gilthanas led before had cleared it as they moved, so that walking was relatively easy. Caramon walked beside Tika, resplendent in her mismatched armor, instructing her on the use of her sword. Unfortunately, the teacher was having a bad time of it.

  Goldmoon had slit Tika's red barmaid skirt up to her thighs for easier movement. Bits of fluffy white from Tika's fur-trimmed undergarments peeped enticingly through the slits. Her legs were visible as she walked, and the girl's legs were just as Caramon had always imagined-round and well-formed. Thus Caramon found it rather difficult to concentrate on his lesson. Absorbed in his pupil, he did not notice that his brother had disappeared.

  "Where's the young mage?" Gilthanas asked harshly.

  "Maybe something's happened to him," Caramon said worriedly, cursing himself for forgetting his brother. The warrior drew his sword and started back along the trail.

  "Nonsense!" Gilthanas stopped him. "What could have happened to him? There is no enemy for miles. He must have gone off somewhere-for some purpose."

  "What are you saying?" Caramon asked, glowering.

  "Maybe he left to-"

  "To collect what I need for the making of my magic, elf," Raistlin whispered, emerging from the brush. "And to replenish the herbs that heal my cough."

  "Raist!" Caramon nearly hugged him in his relief. "You shouldn't go off by yourself-it's dangerous."

  "My spell components are secret," Raistlin whispered irritably, shoving his brother away. Leaning on the Staff of Magius, the mage rejoined Fizban in the line.

  Gilthanas cast a sharp glance at Tanis, who shrugged and shook his head. As the group continued on, the trail became steeper and steeper, leading down from the aspenwoods to the pines of the lowlands. It joined up with a clear brook that soon became a raging stream as they traveled farther south.

  When they stopped for a hasty lunch, Fizban came over and hunkered down beside Tanis. "Someone's following us," he said in a penetrating whisper.

  "What?" Tanis asked, his head snapping up to stare at the old man incredulously.

  "Yes, indeed," the old mage nodded solemnly. "I've seen it- darting in and out among the trees."

  Sturm saw Tanis's look of concern. "What's the matter?"

  "The Old One says someone's following us."

  "Bah!" Gilthanas threw down his last bit of quith-pa in disgust and stood up. "That's insane. Let us go now. The Sla-Mori is still many miles and we must be there by sundown."

  "I'll take rear guard," Sturm said to Tanis softly.

  They walked through the ragged pines for several more hours. The sun slanted down in the sky, lengthening shadows across the trail, when the group came suddenly to a clearing.

  "Hsst!" Tanis warned, falling back in alarm.

  Caramon, instantly alert, drew his sword, motioning for Sturm and his brother with his free hand.

  "What is it?" piped Tasslehoff. "I can't see!"

  "Shhh!" Tanis glared at the kender, and Tas clapped his own hand over his own mouth to save Tanis the trouble.

  The clearing was the site of a recent bloody fight. Bodies of men and hobgoblins lay scattered about in the obscene postures of brutal death. The companions looked about fearfully and listened for long minutes but could hear nothing above the roar of the water.

  "No enemy for miles!" Sturm glared at Gilthanas and started to step out into the clearing.

  "Wait!" Tanis said. "I thought I saw something move!"

  "Maybe one of them's still alive," Sturm said coolly and walked forward. The rest followed more slowly. A low moaning sound came from beneath two hobgoblin bodies. The warriors walked toward the carnage, swords level.

  "Caramon…" Tanis gestured.

  The big warrior shoved the bodies to one side. Beneath was a moaning figure.

  "Human," Caramon reported. "And covered with blood. Unconscious, I think."

  The rest came up to look at the man on the ground. Goldmoon started to kneel down, but Caramon stopped her.

  "No, lady," he said gently. "It would be senseless to heal him if we just have to kill him again. Remember-humans fought for the Dragon Highlord in Solace."

  The group gathered round to examine the man. He wore chain mail that was of good quality, if rather tarnished. His clothes were rich, though the cloth had worn thin in places. He appeared to be in his late thirties. His hair was thick and black, his chin firm, and his features regular. The stranger opened his eyes and stared up at the companions blearily.

  "Thank the gods of the Seekers!" he said hoarsely. "My friends-are they all dead?"

  "Worry about yourself first," Sturm said sternly. "Tell us who your friends were-the humans or the hobgoblins?"

  'The humans-fighters against the dragonmen." The man broke off, his eyes widening. "Gilthanas?"

  "Eben," Gilthanas said in quiet surprise. "How did you survive the battle at the ravine?"

  "How did you, for that matter?" The man named Eben tried to stagger to his feet. Caramon reached out a hand to help him when suddenly Eben pointed. "Look out! Drac-"

  Cara
mon whipped around, letting Eben fall back with a groan. The others turned'to see twelve draconians standing at the edge of the clearing, weapons drawn.

  "All strangers in the land are to be taken to the Dragon Highlord for questioning," one called out. "We charge you to come with us peacefully."

  "No one was supposed to know about this path to Sla-Mori," Sturm whispered to Tanis with a meaningful glance at Gilthanas. "According to the elf, that is!"

  "We do not take orders from Lord Verminaard!" Tanis yelled, ignoring Sturm.

  "You will, soon enough," the draconian said and waved its arm. The creatures surged forward to attack.

  Fizban, standing near the edge of the woods, pulled something from his pouch and began to mumble a few words.

  "Not Fireball!" Raistlin hissed, grabbing the old mage's arm. "You'll incinerate everyone out there!"

  "Oh, really? I suppose you're right." The old mage sighed in disappointment, then brightened. "Wait-I'll think of something else."

  "Just stay here, under cover!" Raistlin ordered. "I'm going to my brother."

  "Now, what was that web spell?" The old man pondered.

  Tika, her new sword drawn and ready, trembled with fear and excitement. One draconian rushed her and she swung a tremendous blow. The blade missed the draconian by a mile, Caramon's head by inches. Pulling Tika behind him, he knocked the draconian down with the flat of his sword. Before it could rise, he stepped on its throat, breaking its neck.

  "Get behind me," he said to Tika, then glanced down at the sword she was still waving around wildly. "On second thought," Caramon amended nervously, "run over to those trees with the old man and Goldmoon. There's a good girl."

  "I will not!" Tika said indignantly. "I'll show him," she muttered, her sweaty palms slipping on the hilt of the sword. Two more draconians charged Caramon, but his brother was beside him now-the two combining magic and steel to destroy their enemy. Tika knew she would only get in their way, and she feared Raistlin's anger more than she feared draconians. She looked around to see if anyone needed her help. Sturm and Tanis fought side by side. Gilthanas made an unlikely team with Flint, while Tasslehoff-his hoopak planted solidly in the ground-sent a deadly barrage of rocks whizzing onto the field. Goldmoon stood beneath the trees, Riverwind near her.

  The old magician had pulled out a spellbook and was flipping through its pages.

  "Web… web… how did that go?" he mumbled.

  "Aaarrrgghh!" A screech behind Tika nearly caused her to swallow her tongue. Whirling around, she dropped her sword in alarm as a draconian, laughing horribly, launched itself into the air straight at her. Panic-stricken, Tika gripped her shield in both hands and struck the draconian in its hideous, reptilian face. The impact nearly jarred the shield from her hands, but it knocked the creature onto its back, unconscious. Tika picked up her sword and, grimacing in disgust, stabbed the creature through the heart. Its body immediately turned to stone, encasing her sword. Tika yanked at it, but it remained stuck fast.

  "Tika, to your left!" yelled Tasslehoff shrilly.

  Tika stumbled around and saw another draconian. Swinging her shield, she blocked its sword thrust. Then, with a strength born of terror, she hit at the creature again and again with her shield, knowing only that she had to kill the thing. She kept bashing until she felt a hand on her arm. Whipping around, her blood-stained shield ready, she saw Caramon.

  "It's all right!" the big warrior said soothingly. "It's all over, Tika. They're all dead. You did fine, just fine."

  Tika blinked. For a moment she didn't recognize the warrior. Then, with a shudder, she lowered her shield.

  "I wasn't very good with the sword," she said, starting to tremble in reaction to her fear and the memory of the horrible creature lunging at her.

  Caramon saw her start to shake. He reached out and clasped her in his arms, stroking the sweat-damp red curls.

  "You were braver than many men I've seen-experienced warriors," the big man said in a deep voice.

  Tika looked up into Caramon's eyes. Her terror melted away, replaced by exultation. She pressed against Caramon. The feel of his hard muscles, the smell of sweat mingled with leather, increased her excitement. Tika flung her arms around his neck and kissed him with such violence her teeth bit into his lip. She tasted blood in her mouth.

  Caramon, astonished, felt the tingle of pain, an odd contrast to the softness of her lips, and was overwhelmed with desire. He wanted this woman more than any other woman-and there had been many-in his life. He forgot where he was, who was around him. His brain and his blood were on fire, and he ached with the pain of his passion. Crushing Tika to his chest, he held her and kissed her with bruising intensity.

  The pain of his embrace was delicious to Tika. She longed for the pain to grow and envelop her, but at the same time, she felt suddenly cold and afraid. Remembering stories told by the other barmaids of the terrible, wonderful things that happened between men and women, she began to panic.

  Caramon completely lost all sense of reality. He caught Tika up in his arms with a wild idea of carrying her into the woods, when he felt a cold, familiar hand on his shoulder.

  The big man stared at his brother and regained his senses with a gasp. He gently set Tika on her feet. Dizzy and disoriented, she opened her eyes to see Raistlin standing beside his brother, regarding her with his strange, glittering stare.

  Tika's face burned. She backed away, stumbled over the body of the draconian, then picked up her shield and ran.

  Caramon swallowed, cleared his throat, and started to say something, but Raistlin simply glanced at him in disgust and walked back to rejoin Fizban. Caramon, trembling like a newborn colt, sighed shakily and walked over to where Sturm, Tanis, and Gilthanas stood, talking to Eben.

  "No, I'm fine," the man assured them. "I just felt a little faint when I saw those creatures, that's all. You really have a cleric among you? That's wonderful, but don't waste her healing powers on me. Just a scratch. It's more their blood than mine. My party and I were tracking these draconians through the woods when we were attacked by at least forty hobgoblins."

  "And you alone live to tell the tale," Gilthanas said.

  "Yes," Eben replied, returning the elf's suspicious gaze. "I am an expert swordsman-as you know. I killed these"-he gestured to the bodies of six hobgoblins who lay around him- "then fell to the overwhelming numbers. The rest must have assumed I was dead and left me. But, enough of my heroics. You fellows are pretty good with swords yourselves. Where are you headed?"

  "Some place called the Sla-" began Caramon, but Gilthanas cut him off.

  "Our journey is secret," Gilthanas said. Then he added in a tentative voice. "We could use an expert swordsman."

  "As long as you're fighting draconians, your fight is my fight," Eben said cheerfully. He pulled his pack out from under the body of a hobgoblin and slung it over his shoulder.

  "My name's Eben Shatterstone. I come from Gateway. You've probably heard of my family," he said. "We had one of the most impressive mansions west of-"

  "That's it!" cried Fizban. "I remembered!"

  Suddenly the air was filled with strands of sticky, floating cobweb.

  The sun set just as the group reached an open plain edged by tall mountain peaks. Rivaling the mountains for dominance of the land before it was the gigantic fortress known as Pax Tharkas, which guarded the pass between the mountains. The companions stared at it in awed silence.

  Tika's eyes widened at the sight of the massive twin towers soaring into the sky. "I've never seen anything so big! Who built it? They must have been powerful men."

  "It was not men," said Flint sadly. The dwarf's beard quivered as he looked at Pax Tharkas with a wistful expression. "It was elves and dwarves working together. Once, long ago, when times were peaceful."

  "The dwarf speaks truly," Gilthanas said. "Long ago Kith-Kanan broke his father's heart and left the ancient home of Silvanesti. He and his people came to the beautiful woods given them by the Emperor of Ergot
h following the scribing of the Swordsheath Scroll that ended the Kinslayer wars. Elves have lived in Qualinesti for long centuries since Kith-Kanan's death. His greatest achievement, however, was the building of Pax Tharkas. Standing between elven and dwarven kingdoms, it was constructed by both in a spirit of friendship since lost on Krynn. It grieves me to see it now, the bastion of a mighty war machine."

  Even as Gilthanas spoke, the companions saw the huge gate that stood at the front of Pax Tharkas swing open. An army-long rows of draconians, hobgoblins, and goblins-marched out into the plains. The sound of braying horns echoed back from the mountaintops. Watching them from above was a great red dragon. The companions cowered among the scrub brush and trees. Though the dragon was too far away to see them, the dragonfear touched them even from this distance.

  "They march on Qualinesti," Gilthanas said, his voice breaking. "We must get inside and free the prisoners. Then Verminaard will be forced to call the army back."

  "You're going inside Pax Tharkas!" Eben gasped.

  "Yes," Gilthanas answered reluctantly, apparently regretting he had said so much.

  "Whew!" Eben blew out a deep breath. "You people have guts, I'll give you that. So-how do we get in there? Wait until the army leaves? There will probably be only a couple of guards at the front gate. We could handle them easily, couldn't we, big man?" He nudged Caramon.

  "Sure," Caramon grinned.

  "That is not the plan," Gilthanas said coldly. The elf pointed to a narrow vale leading into the mountains, just visible in the rapidly fading light. "There is our way. We will cross in the cover of darkness."

  He stood up and started off. Tanis hurried forward to catch up with him. "What do you know of this Eben?" the half-elf asked in elven, glancing back to where the man was chatting with Tika.

  Gilthanas shrugged. "He was with the band of humans who fought with us at the ravine. Those who survived were taken to Solace and died there. I suppose he could have escaped. I did, after all," Gilthanas said, glancing sideways at Tanis. "He comes from Gateway where his father and father before him were wealthy merchants. The others told me, when he was out of hearing, that his family lost their money and he has since earned his living by his sword."