Kindred Spirits tms-1

by Mark Anthony

  Tanis read the note and was out the door, running, before the girl had finished speaking.

  Later, he would remember little of the dash from Flint's shop to Eld Ailea's house; it was a blur of singing, dancing, and chattering Qualinesti. Once he spotted Flint Fireforge standing alone on a street corner, looking around as if he'd lost someone, but when the next opening in the throng occurred, the dwarf had vanished. The half-elf pressed on.

  The front door of the midwife's rose and gray dwelling was unlocked, but that was not unusual. Few Qualinesti locked their doors; there was too little crime in Qualinost for an elf to become fearful. Tanis knocked, tentatively at first, then harder as he failed to hear the midwife's usual reply of "Coming, coming, coming." He called up to the second-level window, but there was no answer.

  A neighbor poked her head out of her front door and gave the half-elf an odd look as he pounded at the door. "Ailea must be home," the elven woman called. "I saw her at the window not five minutes ago."

  Finally Tanis pulled the door open and stepped inside. Even before his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he knew something was wrong. He'd expected an excited midwife bustling out of a back room to tell him she'd solved Xenoth's slaying.

  Instead, he smelled death. The door banged shut behind him.

  The elderly midwife lay on her back before the fireplace, in a pool of her own blood. Her round eyes-those human eyes she had never been ashamed of-stared sightlessly at the beamed ceiling. Dozens of miniature paintings lay scattered around the room. Tanis could see that she had been able to move after the fatal blow was struck; a wide stain of blood stretched from the front door to the rug before the fireplace. One sleeve was pushed up past her elbow, and her lilac-colored skirt had been lifted slightly, revealing a slender calf and knee. Ailea's other hand held a portrait of two elven children.

  Tanis didn't even have the breath to cry out. He found himself on his knees beside the elf's tiny body, mindless of the crimson liquid that soaked his leggings, his moccasins. Ailea's purple skirt was streaked with blood. He found himself fruitlessly trying to wipe it off, succeeding only in smearing it even more. He touched her face, hoping to feel her breath on his hand. But the elf's flesh, while still warm, had taken on the heaviness of death.

  His fingers were covered with red. He rocked back to his heels, heart contracting in sorrow and rage.

  Suddenly, he realized that someone had been pounding on the front door for some time. And at that moment, the door crashed open behind him. Tanis swiveled to face the newcomer.

  "Great Reorx!" Flint cried out, then, "Ailea!"

  Halfway to Ailea's house, Flint had stepped into the sea of elves and lost sight of Miral. But figuring that a mage who was eye-level with other elves had a better chance of penetrating the throng than a four-foot hill dwarf did, Flint had plunged on without looking for him.

  Miral caught up with the dwarf on the doorstep of Ailea's house, as Flint knocked for the first time. The mage looked winded.

  Flint ignored him. Instead, he began pounding at the door. Finally, he swung it open, saw Tanis's tear-streaked face look up at him, and cried out at the sight behind the half-elf.

  … Then Flint had looked up to see the words scrawled in blood on the mantlepiece, words already turning brown as the fluid dried.

  "Ailea," the message read, "I'm sorry."

  "Understand the judgment that I must make," the Speaker said later from the rostrum in the Tower of the Sun. Hundreds of elves, attracted by the upcoming Kentommen, packed the entryway, though only nobles were allowed within the central chamber itself when the Speaker was holding court. There was a constant murmur of conversation in the background.

  "Not since the Kinslayer Wars, Tanthalas, has the blood of an elf been spilled by an elf," Solostaran said, "and not only will we grieve the passing of a long-time faithful servant of this court, we will mourn the loss of the peace that this city has cherished for so long.

  "But before we can mourn, he who has wrought this shadow must abide by its darkness. Thus you stand before me, Tanthalas Half-Elven. You have been accused of the murder of Eld Ailea, midwife."

  Litanas muttered from his new position to the right of the rostrum, "He probably killed Lord Xenoth as well."

  "In this deed, and in my wisdom," Solostaran intoned, "I have found you guilty."

  Still garbed in the bloodstained garments he'd been wearing when the palace guards took him away from Ailea's house, Tanis winced but stood his ground. He heard a low growl behind him, and he knew it was Flint.

  "Thus I proclaim that you, Tanthalas Half-Elven, shall be banished from all the lands of Qualinesti, and that the people of the land shall shun you as if you were one who had never been, lest they suffer a like punishment themselves."

  Tanis's head reeled. Death would have been easier, he thought. The thought of leaving Qualinost made Tanis's heart ache as surely as if a dagger had been driven through it. For all his yearning to travel through Krynn, he had always assumed he would have Qualinost to return to.

  Tyresian looked grimly triumphant as the Speaker spoke.

  "Tanthalas, do you accept this judgment?" Solostaran asked.

  Tanis opened his mouth to answer, unsure just what words were going to come out, but suddenly one of the guards next to him stumbled, and Tanis blinked in surprise as Flint clomped angrily forward to stand before the podium. "I don't know whether he accepts it or not," Flint growled, his hands on his hips but his eyes sorrowful. "But by Reorx, I know that I won't stand for it!"

  Those gathered about the rostrum stared at the dwarf, stunned.

  Flint was acutely aware of all the pairs of almond-shaped eyes gazing down on him, especially the Speaker's. They'll be tossing me out of the city any minute now, Flint thought, and then I won't be able to do the half-elf one bit of good. He thought suddenly of Ailea and realized that with Tanis banished and the midwife dead, he had little reason to remain in Qualinost.

  He shook his head and assembled his thoughts. Surely Ailea would understand if he gathered his strength now to defend Tanthalas, her favorite. Flint would mourn the old midwife later, privately.

  But Tanis needed him now. "Look here, Speaker," Flint started in a rumbling voice before the Speaker had a chance to say anything. "You've apparently listened to everything these elf lords have said about what happened-about what they believe happened, at least. There are no eyewitnesses-no witnesses, remember.

  "Yet they've been quick to point the finger for this dark deed at Tanis," Flint continued. "I can think of others who are equally-no, more-suspect than the half-elf who had grown to love Ailea in the past weeks."

  "Love!" snorted Tyresian. "An act!" "

  And you, Lord Tyresian, are chief among my suspects!" Flint bellowed, pointing at the elf lord.

  "Impossible," Tyresian rejoined. "I was helping to guard Porthios at the Grove when the old lady was killed."

  Flint was momentarily nonplussed. Then he continued, "There is the question of the note. Presumably, the death of Eld Ailea is related to the slaying of Lord Xenoth. The midwife figured out the solution to that death, and as a result, someone killed her. Why, then, would she address the note to me and Tanthalas if she had evidence linking Tanis to Xenoth's death?"

  The Speaker seemed inclined to allow the dwarf to continue, despite the affront to court decorum. "Yet the note is missing, Master Fireforge," Solostaran said. "No one but you saw it. Mage Miral only heard you read it, the child Fionia is too young to read, and Tanis, who also claims to have seen it, is the chief suspect. Further, no one but Tanis was seen entering or leaving the home before you and Miral arrived. And finally, why would Ailea's murderer apologize to her in a message on the mantlepiece if the murderer were not someone close to her?"

  "I…" Hint faltered. "I confess that I don't know, Speaker. All I know is that the tale the evidence seems to spin cannot be the true one."

  A wrinkle crossed the Speaker's brow; a look of puzzlement touched his face-and perhaps a f
licker of hope.

  "With all respect, Speaker, this is ludicrous," Tyresian objected, his voice low but his eyes flashing. "Since when does a common smith, and a dwarf at that, question the wisdom of the court?"

  The Speaker held up a hand. "Master Fireforge has ever been able to speak freely to me," he said softly. In that moment, Flint saw how tired, how old, Solostaran seemed. "Please," the Speaker said, gesturing for Flint to continue.

  "All I'm saying, Speaker," the dwarf said gruffly, "is that maybe you should let Tanis tell his side of the story."

  "We've heard his story," Tyresian protested. "And a ridiculous one it is. 'I arrived, and she was dead.' Why, then, Was her blood fresh on his hands? Why, then, did no neighbor see anyone enter or leave the house but Tanis? There is a space of only five minutes in which, logically, the midwife could have died, and Tanis was the only one to enter the house during that time. Does he expect us to believe-

  "Hold!" the Speaker ordered, and there was metal in his voice again. Tyresian's words ended abruptly. "I'm afraid there is some truth to Lord Tyresian's words, Flint," Solostaran said regretfully, turning back to the dwarf. "We have heard Tanis's story, and there is little in it to exonerate him."

  But Flint wasn't finished yet. "Sure as my beard is long, there are some queer things at work here, Speaker, and I don't think you can argue with me on that. It may be that, given time, Tanis might be able to make sense of them and prove his innocence. Now, it looks like everyone's minds are made up. But I think he deserves a chance."

  Flint could be as immovable as a mountain when the mood struck him. The Speaker considered the dwarf for a time, and then a smile flickered across his lips. "As usual, Master Fireforge, the wisdom of the court pales before your inimitable common sense. I will heed your advice."

  Tyresian looked furious, but the Speaker ignored him.

  "Tanthalas," he said, his voice taking on the ring of authority again, though this time the coldness was missing. "You will be granted three days to find proof that it was not your hand that committed this dark deed, the slaying of our Eld Ailea. If by sundown on the third day, you have not convinced the court of your innocence, then the punishment I have decreed will be placed in effect, and you will be banished from the Realm of Qualinesti forever."

  Tyresian protested. "The half-elf is dangerous! The city is filling with travelers for the Kentommen. The ceremony will be held in three days. What if another slaying occurs? How many elves must die before the Speaker faces facts?"

  Solostaran looked gravely around the chamber. Gilthanas, Litanas, and Ulthen had the same uneasy expressions. "Has anyone else something to say?" the Speaker asked.

  Litanas suddenly seemed to remember that he was the Speaker's adviser now. He stepped forward. "I agree that Tanis should be given the opportunity to prove his innocence, but there seems to be some concern among the nobles about the advisability of allowing an accused murderer to continue to walk the streets of Qualinost."

  Tyresian snorted. " 'Some concern'? That's an understatement."

  "My adviser has the floor, Lord Tyresian," the Speaker said. "Continue, Lord Litanas."

  Litanas straightened, and his brown eyes looked directly at the elven lord. "Perhaps a suggestion would be this: Confine Tanthalas to his quarters, with a guard at the door, for the three days. Allow his friend Flint Fireforge to amass any evidence pointing toward his innocence. At the end of the three days-immediately after the Kentommen-meet with Flint and the rest of us to discuss the situation."

  The Speaker nodded gravely, but his green eyes appeared pleased. "Are there other ideas?" No one spoke. "Then it shall be as my adviser Lord Litanas has suggested.

  "This is the wisdom I have spoken!" he concluded. With those ancient words, the council was adjourned. After one last look at Tanis and Hint, the Speaker left the chamber, his robes ballooning behind him.

  As Flint approached Tanis, he saw that Miral was speaking with the half-elf. "I hope you can make good of the time the dwarf has gained for you, Tanis, but I fear the task will be difficult," the mage said, a sad expression on his face.

  "So you think I did it, then?" Tanis asked him.

  "No, I believe you didn't, Tanis. But the evidence against you is strong." Miral shook his head. "Let me know if you need help, Tanis. I will aid you however I can." The mage turned on a soft heel and walked briskly from the chamber.

  Gilthanas and another guard stepped forward to escort Tanis to his chambers.

  Flint glowered at them both, but he was surprised to see only a look of sorrow on the young elf lord's face.

  "The old midwife did not deserve to die," Gilthanas said softly.

  "I know," Tanis said. "I did not kill her."

  "She delivered me and Laurana and Porthios, too," Gilthanas said, then took a deep breath. "Tanis, reason tells me that you are the only one who could have killed Eld Ailea. My soul, on the other hand, hopes that you are exonerated, to save my father's heart.

  "I would be glad if you proved your innocence," he added simply. Gilthanas brushed his golden hair away from his green eyes. He seemed small in his black uniform. "But don't expect any aid from me. I cannot help you. And if you try any further ill…" He touched the silver emblem of the Tree and the Sun on his black jerkin, the symbol of the city and its guards. "I will be forced to stop you."

  Flint snorted. A lot of good that did. But Tanis seemed to understand, for he nodded, and then the other guard stepped into position on Tanis's other side. Tanis removed his sword and scabbard and handed it to Flint.

  Gilthanas and the other guard led the dwarf's friend away.

  Chapter 25

  Looking for Clues

  Early in the afternoon two days later, Flint wandered through Qualinost, despairing his lack of evidence and wondering how in the world he was supposed to gather clues into Eld Ailea's death when he had no idea why she was killed. He'd spoken to everyone who might have known something, from Ailea's neighbors to women she'd recently helped give birth. He had stopped at the Tower to deliver Porthios's medallion and had interviewed a few of the elves whose opinions he didn't already know.

  "The note said Ailea understood about Xenoth's death," he mused, pausing to sit at the edge of the Grand Market.

  The market, always a mйlange of colors and sounds, was even more exuberant today. He'd never seen elves as gaily attired as they were for Porthios's ceremony. They normally dressed in quiet earth tones; this afternoon, pinks, teals, and purples swirled past his eyes, and more than one elf wore a mask carved in the face of an animal or bird. To the celebrants' amusement, one elf was even dancing about dressed as a tree-garbed all in dark brown leather, his head covered with a brown cloth sack with two eye holes cut into it, his outstretched arms holding aspen branches. Another elf had fastened white feathers to her head and arms, and was wearing a white mask fashioned to resemble an owl. A third elf darted over the Kith-Kanan mosaic wearing a dark green dragon suit-an object of great mirth to her companions because dragons hadn't been seen on Krynn for millennia, if, in fact, they'd ever existed.

  The passage of Porthios from youth to adult seemed to have given the Qualinesti cause to behave like children, and they were making the most of it.

  For once, the Qualinesti had dropped some of their characteristic reserve, and while they'd never match the fervor of a dwarven Fullbeard Day, they were coming close.

  How Ailea would have enjoyed this celebration, Flint thought sadly. Then he pulled his thoughts back to the question at hand. "Who would Ailea have told about her discovery?" he mumbled, reflecting on his searches of the morning. "Her neighbor said she was home all that morning, and the woman saw no one enter but me and Tanis."

  "Yet Ailea must have talked to someone," he added.

  The scent of sausage and hot quith-pa met his nostrils, and he stepped into line with four elves at a luncheon vendor's stand. The dwarf continued to mutter, which, given the carnival atmosphere, didn't seem to faze the elves.

  What if she had
discovered something about Tyresian- something that Xenoth also knew? The aged elf lord had been in court for hundreds of years; certainly he was privy to vast amounts of information, some of which could have been intended to be kept secret. "Tyresian would have the same reason to kill Ailea that he had to slay Lord Xenoth," he murmured. He wished he had Tanis to talk to, but the half-elf was barred in his chambers at the palace.

  He reached the front of the line and paid the vendor, then walked away, tearing off a juicy mouthful of sausage and bread. But the lunch went tasteless in his mouth as he realized he would have to do what he wanted least to do: go back to Eld Ailea's house and search it for clues.

  Minutes later, he was standing before the midwife's dwelling, mindless of the singing, costumed elves who eddied around him. A black-uniformed palace guard, who looked as though he'd caught the carnival atmosphere despite the gravity of his task, leaned against the front door frame. He looked sharply at Flint as the dwarf stepped off the path and picked his way to the edge of the white petunia bed that the midwife had planted before the shuttered front window. None of the plants were damaged, and, brushing the white trumpet-shaped blooms aside, Flint saw no footprints in the rich dirt. The other window in front led to the second level. An elf would have to stand on another's shoulders to reach it.

  The absurdity of his search suddenly struck Flint. "As if someone would have gone in through the window in broad daylight when there was an unlocked door an arm's length away," he said sotto voce. "Flint, you doorknob!"

  He rose and brushed blades of crushed grass from his knees. The guard, a sharp-featured youth slightly older than Gilthanas, still watched. It occurred to Flint that the blond guard had not challenged him. "Has anyone been in the house since the death?" Flint demanded.

  The guard shook his head. "The Speaker said no one was to be allowed in or near except you, Master Fireforge."

  Flint felt a glow of warmth for the elven lord. "Are there other guards?" he asked from next to the petunias.