The Companions tms-6

by Tina Daniell

"Hi, Kitiara! How'd you get away?" the kender yelled as he ran to one side, then crawled on his hands and knees through some smoke, apparently looking for something.

  He noticed that Kitiara only scowled back at him briefly before thrusting her sword into the side of a charging minotaur. She backed away into a patch of smoke and darkness, trailed by some of the bird-people. Why was Kit always in such a bad mood? Hadn't he greeted her nicely?

  The smoke filled Tas's eyes with tears. He groped along the ground, finally laying his hands on what he had been searching for. Before he could get up, he felt a foot come down hard on his hand.

  Tas looked up, then grinned with relief. "Hello, Tanis! Boy, is it great to see you and Caramon and Kitiara. Where's Flint?"

  The half-elf stared down at him quizzically. "Whose side are you on, Tasslehoff?" he asked sternly.

  "Why, Tanis," said Tas, genuinely hurt. "What a question to ask! I'm on your side, of course. Aren't you on mine? It's just me and Raistlin against all these minotaurs, and we sure could use some help."

  Tanis eyed the kender closely, then slowly lifted his foot. Tasslehoff grabbed his hoopak, then accepted Tanis's hand and rose to his feet. Tas rubbed his hand ruefully.

  "You wouldn't happen to have an extra sword, would you?" the kender asked plaintively.

  Tanis shook his head, but he pulled a dagger out of its sheath and handed it to Tas hilt first. "Here," the half-elf said.

  The kender took it eagerly. The knife would do. Meantime, he had his precious hoopak back.

  The half-elf smiled at him. "Sure I'm on your side… if you're on mine. There have been some strange rumors about you lately."

  "Have there?" asked Tas, grinning broadly. "Well, I've had a heck of a time. First we got betrayed by the captain of the Venora-I didn't like him much, anyway. I called him 'Old Walrus Face.' Then this big, incredible storm came along, only it wasn't really a storm but-"

  Three minotaurs, carrying studded clubs and swords, crashed through the smoke, attacking them.

  Tanis swung fiercely, blocking their charge, then raced off in one direction. Tasslehoff ran off in the other.

  One of the kyrie had fallen in the bombardment of fire balls. Another had dragged his comrade off to one side and been separated from the group.

  Tanis had disappeared.

  The others were gathered near a small embankment. A group of minotaur soldiers harried them. Kitiara and Yuril, their backs against a rock, lashed out with their swords at two of the bull-men. Cloudreaver and three other kyrie warriors fought nearby, fending off several minotaurs with curved clubs.

  One of the minotaurs closed in and stabbed his sword at Yuril, piercing her side. Instantly Kitiara swung around, slicing off the arm of the attacker at the elbow. The minotaur fell back, clutching his limb to stem the flow of blood. His fellow soldier shoved him out of the way, then lunged at Kitiara while she was still off balance.

  At least Kit thought he had lunged, but when she stepped nimbly aside, the minotaur continued to fall forward onto his face, dead. A small knife protruded from the back of his neck.

  She just managed to glimpse the kender as he dashed away.

  Yuril slumped, and Kitiara grabbed her by the shoulders. "Can you make it?" she asked. Yuril nodded weakly and lost consciousness.

  Tasslehoff couldn't find Dogz.

  The minotaurs had dragged the traitor off to the perimeter of the staging area, where one bull-man soldier, removed from the rest of the action, nervously supervised the prisoner. Dogz sat in anguish, lost in his own world, staring at his feet. Suddenly he heard a solid thunk. He looked up to see the minotaur soldier drop to his knees, clawing at his throat, then topple face forward into the dirt.

  Tas sauntered into view.

  "It's all in the wrist," he boasted. "Not every kender can throw a hoopak as good as me. Why, I'd venture to say hardly any kender can throw a hoopak as good as me. Well, maybe Uncle Trapspringer can, but, after all, he's the one who taught me!"

  In the midst of the noisy, smoke-enshrouded confusion all around them, Tas quickly untied Dogz.

  Dogz didn't move. "You came back, friend Tas," he said, his voice missing its usual booming resonance.

  "I owed you one, didn't I?"

  "It is good to see you the way you were before," said the minotaur. "So the human female's antidote did work."

  The minotaur soldier showed himself to be stubborn, savage, and battle-wise. Caramon couldn't get past him. The bull-man held a long polearm with a crescent blade at each end of its shaft. Again and again the young warrior tried to slash forward, but the minotaur kept him busy dodging the heavy weapon, which he twirled like a baton.

  It seemed like a standoff until Tanis came running up, bringing his sword to bear alongside Caramon's. The half-elf slashed, while Caramon kept up his stabbing attack. Their weapons rang against the polearm.

  For the first time, Caramon saw a hint of panic in the soldier's eyes. The minotaur stumbled and retreated a few steps. All his moves were defensive now, and Tanis and Caramon pushed their advantage. The minotaur was obviously tiring from the attack and couldn't last much longer.

  On the scaffold, the Nightmaster turned to confront Raistlin Majere.

  After Tasslehoff had cut the rope binding his hands, the young mage had worked fast, managing to pull the cord off his legs. Now, eyes intense, he stood there, pale and sweating, poised like an animal ready to spring.

  "Things are not going very well… are they?" Raistlin said in a low, purposeful voice.

  The Nightmaster had been thrown off balance by the nightmare sequence of events. But now the figure before him, the human who had somehow divined his plans and conspired to wreck them, renewed his sense of purpose. The high shaman of the minotaur race stared down at the much shorter Raistlin. He noted with satisfaction that the puny human didn't have any weapon.

  "The spell has been spoken," rumbled the high shaman. "All that remains is the sacrifice. And I see that you are still here, Raistlin Majere of Solace. It occurs to me that there has been enough interruption and delay. The time for you to die is now. Sargonnas awaits!"

  Raistlin had edged around as the Nightmaster spoke. Now he lunged-away from the high shaman, toward the tome of spells that rested on a stand. He snatched up the book of magic, holding it before him.

  The Nightmaster stopped, hobbling toward Raistlin, surprised. "What is this, mage?" the shaman minotaur said with a sneer. "Do you think you have time to learn a spell in order to defeat me? Or are you simply intending to use my spellbook as a shield?"

  Raistlin whirled and tossed the spellbook far out over the mouth of the volcano.

  "No!" shouted the Nightmaster, lunging futilely after the book. "No-o-o-o!"

  Just as the minotaur turned his back on Raistlin, Tanis and Caramon reached the top of the scaffold. They hurled their weapons at the hulking figure. Two swords rammed into the Nightmaster's back. The high shaman of the minotaur race teetered on the edge of the scaffold for a second, then lost his footing and fell forward into the fiery crater.

  Caramon and Tanis embraced Raistlin.

  The young mage glanced questioningly toward the continued fighting below.

  "Kit is fine," explained Caramon quickly. "So is Tasslehoff. We're doing our best to hold them off!"

  "There is no more time," said Raistlin tersely. "We have to hurry!"

  Caramon and Tanis saw that already a red cloud was billowing out of the mouth of the volcano. Like a whirlwind of fire, it grew and swirled. They had to turn their faces away from the searing heat.

  A sound like the hooves of a hundred thousand horses accompanied it.

  Caramon glanced down briefly at the pool of orange fire whose huge waves splashed upward before Raistlin yanked him away. Caramon and Tanis were pushed back down the scaffold steps by the young mage.

  * * * * *

  "Kitiara's antidote?" asked the kender blankly.

  "I exchanged it for your usual double dose," said Dogz solemnly.

/>   "Yeah, well, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. That potion never tasted very good, but this last time was even worse…"

  The kender stopped suddenly. He heard a strange noise, like rolling thunder, quite different from the battle sounds he had been hearing. Tas looked up at the scaffold. It stood empty. A firestorm spewed from the mouth of the volcano, swelling over the scene.

  "Uh-oh," Tasslehoff gulped. "We'll talk about all that later. Right now we'd better get out of here." He tugged at Dogz, who hadn't risen from where he was sitting.

  "I'm not going," said Dogz.

  "You're not what?"

  "I'm not going," repeated Dogz. Now he stood, leaned over, and put his hands on the kender's shoulders. Dogz looked into his friend's eyes. "I have disgraced my race," said the minotaur. "I have disobeyed orders. I am dishonored."

  "What?" sputtered Tas, looking around wildly. Minotaurs ran past them, throwing down their weapons and screaming. Through the confusion of smoke and fire, he couldn't see any of his companions. "What do you mean? You saved my life! You're a hero in my book!"

  Dogz squeezed Tas's shoulders. His eyes were moist. "Go, friend Tas," said Dogz mournfully. "Save yourself. I am not worth saving. I am dishonored." He sat back down.

  Tasslehoff was about to hurl a reply when one of those huge, feathered creatures swooped down and picked him up. The creature joined several other bird-people in flight. Each appeared to be carrying a human in its talons.

  The kyrie veered away sharply and then up. They had just risen above the smoke and fires when they heard a tremendous explosion. Twisting around, Tas and the others could see a colossal plume of red fire bursting from the mouth of the volcano. The plume hovered in the air, forming into a shape that looked very much like a giant condor. For several minutes, the condor rained fiery death on everyone who still remained on the summit of the volcano. After several minutes, the condor dissipated, the plume withdrew, and the volcano became quiet once again. Sargonnas had come and gone.

  Epilogue

  The hundreds of orughi waiting off the coast of Beakwere slowly came to the realization that the spell hadn't worked. Sargonnas wasn't coming-not this time. Their beady eyes disappointed, the orughi turned away from Karthay toward the smaller, even less hospitable islands where they dwelled. They swam northward, their hundreds of muscular webbed feet stroking the water, churning up a mile-wide trail of foam in their wake.

  The ogres in their warships near Land Ho Straits also recognized that the time had passed. Oolong Xak, commander of the ogre tribal fleet, gave the signal for dozens of warships to turn back-back toward Ogrebond and the continent of Ansalon. At least, Oolong Xak thought with a sigh, the ogres hadn't cemented any alliance with the contemptible orughi. It was bad enough that the ogre chieftains had consented to join with the minotaurs. The bull-men had led everybody astray with their pipe dream of Sargonnas.

  Back in the palace in the city of Lacynos, the eight minotaurs of the Supreme Circle accepted the news of the Nightmaster's failure with varying reactions.

  Of one thing, everyone was certain. This turn of events deeply compromised the king of the minotaurs. After he heard the news of the calamity, the king immediately left the Supreme Circle to return to his residence.

  Although Atra Cura had supported the king, this policy blunder didn't reflect badly on the minotaur pirate leader. In fact, it reinforced his vainglorious belief that the king was slipping and that he, Atra Cura, was the logical successor to the throne-perhaps as soon as next year.

  The leader of the navy, Akz; the commander of the minotaur military, Inultus; the scholar and historian, Juvabit; the keeper of the treasury, Groppis; and the construction guild-master, Bartill-these five council members lingered in the hall long after the startling announcement that the Nightmaster had been killed. They tried to outdo one another with their claims that privately each had foreseen the flaws in the arrogant high shaman's plans.

  Before departing, Victri, leader of the rural minotaurs, spoke eloquently about the patriotism that flamed in every bull-man's breast, and how, despite occasional setbacks, the minotaur kingdom would one day overrun all of Ansalon.

  As for Kharis-O, leader of the nomadic minotaurs, she glowered at all the others and left without uttering a word.

  On the island of Karthay, the companions regrouped back on the high ground where they had camped the night before the attack on the ruined city.

  The minotaur forces had scattered. Those remaining on the volcano summit had been burned to death by the plume of fiery mist that had briefly flared from the crater. After the fighting ended, the army of sand and rock creatures who had helped the companions defeat the minotaurs had returned to their burrows and caves.

  Kirsig's body was carried back to the camp by Flint. By himself, the dwarf dug a simple grave in a spot where the ground wasn't too hard. He stuck the sword she had carried into the fresh mound, leaving it for all to see.

  "Kirsig called herself a cleaning woman and a healer," the dwarf proclaimed over her burial place. He tugged on his beard, then looked at the ground. "But those of us who fought alongside her know that she had the true, unwavering heart of a warrior. And we shall miss her," he added, brushing away rare tears.

  Two of the sailors from the Castor and three of the kyrie warriors had been killed in the attack, including Bird-Spirit. It had been Bird-Spirit who was incinerated on the summit of Worldscap.

  Sturm grieved for the kyrie who had rescued him from certain death at the Pit of Doom.

  Cloudreaver grieved for his friend. True, Bird-Spirit had died in battle, an honorable death for any kyrie. But his body had been left behind on the mountaintop when the volcano erupted in its fiery shower of death. "Our dead are always burned on a pyre above the ground," Cloudreaver told Sturm sadly. "But the ashes are supposed to be scattered to the four winds. The lava will have buried Bird-Spirit's body. In death, he will never be free."

  Where she had been wounded, Yuril's side felt sore, a soreness that would remain with her for the rest of her life. But she was recuperating and would live. Caramon tended to her during her convalescence, bringing her hot tea and palliatives by day, blankets at night.

  Watching them, Flint grumbled plaintively to Tanis, "Reminds me of Kirsig-he's acting just like a female." Tanis merely nodded, admiring Caramon's tenderness.

  The kyrie continued to perform their long scouting flights. One day one of them returned and reported to Cloudreaver that a ship, the Castor, hovered off the southern coast. Hearing that, Yuril and the two surviving sailors conferred, then announced that they had decided to head back to sea. Astonished, Caramon tried to talk Yuril into staying with the companions.

  "No," laughed the tall, strong seawoman. "You don't understand, do you? Captain Nugetre is a difficult man, but the sea is where I belong, and he knows that. You are reunited with your brother. Now I must rejoin the sea."

  Raistlin and Tanis bid Yuril goodbye, vowing their eternal gratitude. Flint shook her hand and the hands of the other two sailors solemnly. Kit embraced Yuril. Caramon, after sulking briefly, planted a kiss on her lips that lasted so long Tasslehoff had to tap him on the shoulders.

  Three of the kyrie carried the female sailors back to the sea vessel that awaited them.

  Four kyrie returned-the three who had gone to meet the Castor, plus a messenger from the island of Mithas.

  A sentinel had reported from the dungeon in Atossa. Morning Sky was dead. The broken bird-man, Cloudreaver's brother, had perished without revealing anything to his cruel captors.

  Cloudreaver wept when he heard the news.

  "You must go back," the kyrie messenger told Cloudreaver. "Sun Feather calls you. He says to tell you that you are heir to the leadership now."

  Cloudreaver collected his warriors of the sky together, announcing that they would return to Mithas immediately. The companions gathered to say a sad farewell to the ancient people who had helped save them and stop Sargonnas.

  "We will mee
t again," said Raistlin solemnly.

  "I trust that we will," said Cloudreaver.

  Sturm gave Cloudreaver a stiff but heartfelt hug.

  Caramon stepped forward, uncertain of what to say or do. He had grown close to Cloudreaver in this short time. He doubted he would ever forget his kyrie friend.

  Cloudreaver looked at the human. He lifted up Caramon's arm and pulled up his sleeve, finding the scar from the Night of the Sea Dragon. The kyrie touched the scar with two fingers, then brought the two fingers to his lips.

  "Warrior," said Cloudreaver. "Brother."

  "Warrior," repeated Caramon. "Brother."

  The kyrie flew off in a glorious rush of giant feathered wings.

  It had been seven days since the attack on the ruined city and the defeat of the Nightmaster, two days since the departure of the kyrie.

  There was a listlessness about the companions. Although some of them were bruised and nursing wounds, none of them was so badly hurt that he, or she, couldn't move on. Nevertheless, the seven companions lingered on the high ground overlooking the dead city, where in the distance they could still glimpse the smoldering peak of Worldscap.

  Tasslehoff had been trying to convince everyone that he had never been truly evil in the first place. It was all a fabulous charade, the kender insisted.

  Nonetheless, Sturm had been giving Tas a wide berth. Privately he believed that the evil kender had nearly gotten him killed in Atossa. Nobody could convince the Solamnic otherwise. And not everybody was certain he should try.

  This late afternoon, as suppertime approached, Flint saw Tas and Sturm arguing together vehemently. Unexpectedly the dwarf doubled over, clutching his sides with laughter. Sturm demanded to know what Flint found so funny.

  "Ken-ken-kender without a topknot!" sputtered the dwarf. "Solamnic with only half a mustache!"

  Everybody joined in the laughter-all except Sturm, who didn't see what was so darned funny.

  Tas laughed the longest. When he finally regained control of himself, he turned serious. "You believe me, don't you, Raistlin?"