Laurana turned to him. Her blue eyes were chill as the water in the stream. “What do you mean by that remark?” she asked sharply.
“Nothing,” Tanis returned, astonished at her sudden anger. “I didn’t mean anything—”
“Indeed we have been spending time together,” Laurana continued. “I was a diplomat for many years in my father’s court, where, as you well know, every sentence must be carefully considered lest it cause someone offense. A single word given the wrong intonation could bring about a feud that might last for centuries. I offered Elistan advice on one or two small matters, and he was grateful. Now he seeks out my counsel. He does not consider me a child!”
“Laurana, I didn’t mean —”
She walked off, her shoulders stiff. Even angry and offended, she moved with a flowing grace that put the slender branches of willows to shame and caused Tanis’s heart to stand still in awe when he looked at her.
Many watched Laurana as she walked past. Daughter of the Speaker of the Suns, ruler of the Qualinesti elves, she was the first elf maiden some of these humans had ever seen, and they never tired of gazing at her. Her beauty was exotic, alien, seemed almost ethereal. Her eyes were luminous blue, her hair a golden shower. Her voice was musical and low, her touch gentle.
This radiant, stunning woman could have been his. Tanis could have been as happy as Riverwind and Goldmoon.
“You must like the taste of shoe leather,” Flint remarked, his voice low. “Your foot is in your mouth often enough these days.”
“She took it the wrong way,” Tanis said, annoyed.
“You said it the wrong way,” Flint retorted. “Laurana’s not the little girl who fell in love with a playmate, Tanis. She’s grown up. She’s a woman with a woman’s heart to give, or hadn’t you noticed?”
“I noticed,” said Tanis, “and I still maintain that breaking our engagement was the right thing to do—for her sake, not mine.”
“If you believe that, then let her go.”
“I’m not holding onto her,” Tanis returned heatedly.
He’d spoken too loudly. Eyes turned his way, including the almond-shaped eyes of Laurana’s brother, Gilthanas. Hederick heard him too and paused, offended.
“Do you have something to say, Half-Elven?” Hederick asked reproachfully.
“Oh, Tanis, now you’re in trouble!” Caramon sniggered.
Feeling like an errant school boy who has been called to the front of the class, Tanis mumbled something in apology and retreated back into the shadows. Everyone smiled knowingly, then turned back to listen to Hederick’s speech, except Gilthanas, who regarded Tanis with stern disapproval.
Once, many years ago, Gilthanas had been Tanis’s friend. Then Tanis had made the mistake of falling in love with Laurana, and that had ended his friendship with her brother. To make matters worse, Tanis had recently suspected and even accused Gilthanas of being a spy. Tanis had been proven wrong, and he’d made an apology, but Gilthanas found it hard to forgive the fact that Tanis had suspected him capable of such a crime. Tanis wondered irritably if there were any additional means by which he could make his life more complicated.
Then Sturm Brightblade walked to him, and Tanis smiled and relaxed. Thank goodness for Sturm. The Solamnic knight, intent on the politics of the situation, was oblivious to all else.
“Are you listening to this great idiot?” Sturm demanded. “The man talks about building houses in this valley. Even a town hall! Apparently he has forgotten that only weeks before we were fleeing for our lives.”
“I’m listening,” said Tanis, “and so are they, more’s the pity.”
Many in the crowd were smiling and murmuring assent. Hederick’s word-picture of a cozy winter spent in this peaceful place was an attractive one. Tanis felt a twinge of remorse. He’d been thinking much the same himself. Perhaps it was his talk with Raistlin last night or his talk with Riverwind this morning, but Tanis was growing increasingly uneasy. The valley seemed no longer a place of peace and beauty. He felt trapped here. Thinking of Raistlin, he looked over at the mage to see his reaction.
Raistlin sat upon a blanket spread for him on the ground by his brother. He cradled his magical staff in his arms. His gaze was abstracted, turned inward. He did not appear to be listening.
Hederick closed by saying that when spring came, the refugees would continue their journey to Tarsis, the city by the sea, where they would find a ship to take them far from this war-torn land.
“Some place where humans can reside in peace,” Hederick concluded, laying emphasis on that word. “Some place far from those sorts of people known to cause trouble and strife in the world.”
“What sorts of people is he talking about?” Tas asked, interested.
“Elves,” said Tanis, scratching his beard.
“Dwarves,” growled Flint.
“And kender,” said Caramon, giving Tas’s topknot a playful tweak that made the kender yelp.
Hederick glanced in their direction and pursed his lips in disapproval, then looked out upon the audience as much as to say, “See what I mean?”
With that, he retired to great applause.
“What a short memory he has,” Sturm remarked. He smoothed the long mustaches that were the hallmark of a Solamnic knight and Sturm’s pride, along with his father’s sword and armor, the only legacy his father had left him. “Elves and a dwarf helped save his miserable life!”
“And a kender!” Tas added indignantly.
“Maybe Elistan will remind him of that,” Tanis said, as the Revered Son of Paladine stepped forward.
“The gods of good hold back the darkness,” Elistan stated, “as they hold back the snows that must soon blanket this valley, but winter will come and so too will the forces of evil.”
Hederick interrupted him.
“If, as you say, Revered Son, your god, Paladine, and the other gods of Light have protected us in the past, can’t we be assured that they will continue to protect us in the future?” the High Theocrat asked.
“The gods have helped us, that is true,” said Elistan, “and they will continue to help us, but we must do our part. We are not babes in arms, whose every need has to be met by the parents. We are grown men and women. We have free will, a gift given to us by the gods. We have the ability to make choices—”
“And we choose to remain here in this valley,” said Hederick.
This drew a laugh and applause.
Flint nudged Tanis with his elbow. “Look there,” he said urgently, pointing.
The Plainsmen were leaving. They had turned their backs on the speakers and on their fellow refugees and were walking out of the grove. Riverwind and Goldmoon remained, seemingly reluctant to leave, but then, with a shake of his head, Riverwind walked off. He said something to Goldmoon, but she did not immediately follow him. She sent her searching gaze through the crowd until she found Tanis.
Goldmoon looked at him long, and he saw in her sad smile an apology. Then, she, too, turned her back and went to be with her husband. Both left to join their people.
By now, everyone in the crowd was watching the Plainsmen depart. Some cried, “Good riddance,” but others stated that it was a shame to let them leave in anger. Elistan tried to say something, but the clamor in the crowd drowned him out. Hederick stood in the background, smiling contentedly.
Raistlin was at Tanis’s elbow, plucking at his sleeve. Tanis could smell the fragrance of dried rose petals emanating from the young mage’s pouch of spell components that he wore on a belt around his waist. Tanis could also smell the scent of decay that lingered about Raistlin, a scent the sweet perfume of roses could never quite mask. Rose petals were not the only spell components the mage carried. Some were far less pleasant.
“Something is wrong,” Raistlin said urgently. “Don’t you feel it?”
He gave a sudden hiss. His hand seized hold of Tanis’s arm, the long, slender fingers digging painfully into Tanis’s flesh.
“Raistlin,” said Tanis irritably, “t
his is no time for—”
“Hush!” Raistlin raised his head, as though listening. “Where is the kender? Quickly! I need him!”
“You do?” Tasslehoff cried, amazed. “Excuse me,” he added importantly, stepping on Flint’s toes. “I have to get by. Raistlin needs me—”
“You have the sharpest eyes among us,” said Raistlin, grasping hold of the kender. “Look into the sky! Swiftly. What do you see?”
Tas did as he was told, craning his neck and peering up into the sky, nearly tumbling over backward in the process.
“I see a white cloud that looks like a rabbit. There, do you see it, Caramon? It has long ears and a puffy tail and—”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Raistlin snarled, giving Tas a shake that snapped his head back. “Keep looking!”
“It might help if I knew what I was looking for,” Tas pointed out meekly.
“That mage shivers my skin,” said Flint, scowling and rubbing his arms.
“It’s not him,” said Tanis. “I feel it, too. Sturm!” he called, looking about for the knight.
Sturm had been standing in the shadows of an oak, keeping himself apart from the others, especially Raistlin. The serious-minded knight, who lived by the code, Est Sularas est Mithos, “My honor is my life,” had grown up with Raistlin and his brother, and though Sturm liked Caramon, the knight had never liked nor trusted his twin.
“I sense it as well,” Sturm said.
An uneasy silence had fallen over the crowd. People turned this way and that, searching for the cause of the pricklings of fear that tingled in their arms and raised goose bumps on their flesh. The Plainspeople had halted and were gazing skyward. Riverwind had his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“This reminds me of something!” Tanis said suddenly.
“Xak Tsaroth,” Sturm murmured.
“There!” Tasslehoff cried, pointing. “A dragon!”
It flew far above them, so high that the huge monster was reduced in size to a child’s toy—a deadly toy. As the people watched in terror, the dragon dipped its wings and began to descend, winding downward in slow, lazy circles. The morning sun flashed off red scales and shone through the thin membrane of red wings. The fear that is part of a dragon’s arsenal swept over the crowd. Primal fear from a memory of time’s beginning. Deep-rooted fear that wrung the heart and made the soul shudder.
“Run!” Hederick shrieked. “Run for your lives!”
Tanis understood the terror. He felt the desire to flee, to run anywhere and nowhere in a desperate, panicked need to escape the horror, but he could see that running was the last thing they should do. Most of the people were standing beneath the trees, concealed from the dragon’s sight by the overspreading branches.
“Don’t move!” he managed to shout, though he had to struggle to breathe through the suffocating fear. “If no one moves, the dragon might not see us—”
“Too late,” said Sturm. He gazed upward at the beast. “The dragon has seen all there is to see, and so has the rider.”
The dragon had flown closer to them. They could all see the rider accoutered in heavy armor and a helm decorated with horns. The rider sat at his ease in a specially designed saddle on the dragon’s back, between the wings.
Pandemonium broke out. Some people went racing for the caves. Others collapsed weeping and shivering, onto the grass.
Tanis couldn’t move. He could not take his eyes from the rider. The man was huge with muscular arms that were bare, despite the cold. His helm covered his face, yet Tanis had no trouble recognizing him.
“Verminaard!” Tanis gasped, forcing out the name through clenched teeth.
“That’s impossible!” Sturm said. “He’s dead!”
“Look for yourself!” Tanis returned.
“He was dead, I tell you,” Sturm insisted, yet he sounded shaken. “No man could survive such wounds!”
“Well, this one did, apparently,” Flint said grimly.
“Remember that he himself was a powerful cleric, serving an all-powerful goddess,” said Raistlin. “Takhisis might well have restored him to life.”
Someone barreled straight into Tanis, nearly knocking him down. The person shoved Tanis aside and kept on running.
Panic had seized hold of nearly everyone. People went haring off in every direction. Women screamed, men shouted, and children wailed. The dragon flew lower and lower.
“They’ve all gone mad!” Caramon shouted, trying to make himself heard above the chaos. “Someone has to do something!”
“Someone is,” said Tanis.
Elistan stood firm, his hand on the medallion of faith he wore around his neck. Surrounding him were twenty of his followers and they were pale but composed, listening carefully to Elistan’s instructions. Laurana was among these. She seemed to sense Tanis’s gaze, for she turned her head and flashed him a quick, cool glance. Then she and the other followers of Paladine went among the crowd, taking firm hold of those who were in hysterics and ministering to those who had fallen or been knocked down or trampled.
The Plainsmen were also taking action against the dragon. They stood with bows and arrows ready. The dragon was still too far away for a good shot, but the archers were prepared in case the beast should try to harm those on the ground. Riverwind was giving orders. Standing beside him, shoulder-to-shoulder, was Gilthanas. The elf had his bow and arrow aimed and ready.
Tanis had not thought to bring his bow, but he wore his sword, the magical sword of the elven king, Kith-Kanan. He drew his weapon, thinking, as he did so that it would do little good against the enormous red dragon. Caramon had his sword drawn. Raistlin’s eyes were closed. He was chanting softly to himself, readying a magical spell. Flint had his battle-axe in his hand. Tasslehoff drew his own small sword that he had named Rabbitslayer, following Caramon’s remark that the small blade would be useful only if Tas were attacked by a ferocious rabbit. Tas claimed the dagger was magic, but thus far the only magic Tanis had seen was the fact that the scatter-brained kender had not yet managed to lose it.
Armed and ready for a battle they could not hope to win, the companions stood waiting in the shadow of the trees for the dragon to start the slaughter.
The Dragon Highlord, mounted on the red’s back, raised his arm in a mocking salute. Even from this distance, they could hear his deep voice rumbling orders to the dragon. The red gave an easy flap of its massive wings and sailed upward. It soared over the heads of the archers, who loosed off a volley of arrows. Almost all found their mark, but none did any damage. Striking the dragon’s scales, the arrows clattered off, falling to the ground. The Dragon Highlord extended his hand and pointed straight at the grove.
The dragon let out its breath in a gust of fire. The trees exploded into flames. A wave of scorching heat swept over Tanis and the rest. Thick black smoke choked the air.
Sturm caught hold of Tasslehoff, who was staring at the dragon in open-mouthed excitement, and hoisted the kender off his feet and flung him over his shoulder. Caramon and Raistlin were already running for safety, as was Flint. Tanis peered into the smoke to see if anyone was trapped inside the burning grove.
The trees burned fiercely. Blazing branches fell down all around him. The thick smoke stung his eyes, choking him. The heat from the raging fire was causing his skin to blister. If people were still in there, they were doomed.
Tanis wondered grimly if Verminaard planned to set fire to the entire valley, but apparently the Dragon Highlord was content with simply terrifying them. The dragon lifted its head and flapped its wings and soared into the sky, flying with ponderous grace up and over the mountains. Dragon and rider were soon lost to sight.
The grove of oak, maple, and fir burned white hot, belching smoke that rolled into the sky and hung on the still air above what had once been a peaceful valley, a safe haven.
4
Flint tells a tale.
Sturm recalls a legend.
or several hours following the dragon’s attack, all was chaos. F
amilies had lost track of each other during the mad stampede; children separated from their parents, husbands from their wives. Tanis and his friends worked to calm everyone, shepherding them back up into the caves where they would be safe if the dragon should come again. Gold-moon and the other clerics of Mishakal treated the frightened and the wounded. Elistan helped to restore calm and order, and by afternoon, all of the lost had been found; families were back together again. No one had died, which Tanis held to be a miracle.
He called a meeting for that night to discuss the dire emergency and this time he set the rules. No more public gatherings outdoors. The meeting was held in the largest cavern that could be found which was, of course, the cave that had been chosen by Hederick for his residence. The cave had a high ceiling with a natural chimney for ventilation that permitted the Theocrat to have a fire. This time, the meeting was limited to the delegates. Tanis had been adamant on that point, and even Hederick had grudgingly acceded to the wisdom of the half-elf’s arguments. From now on, no one was to venture outside the caves unless they had good reason.
The delegates crowded into the cave, occupying every available space. Tanis brought Sturm and Flint, telling the rest to remain in their dwellings. He had invited Raistlin, too, but the mage had not yet come. Caramon was under orders to keep Tasslehoff away, to chain the disruptive kender to a wall if he had to. Riverwind and Goldmoon represented the Plainsmen. The terrible revelation that Verminaard was still alive, and the fact that he had discovered their location, had caused the Plainspeople to rethink plans of setting out on their own. Elistan was here, with Laurana by his side.
Hederick, as usual, spoke first.
Tanis thought that Hederick would be the first one to advocate fleeing the valley. The half-elf was astonished to find that Hederick still insisted on remaining.
“If anything, this attack reinforces my argument that we should stay here in the valley where we are safe,” Hederick said. “Can you imagine the terrible tragedy that would have occurred if that dragon had caught us traipsing along some mountain trail with no cover, nowhere to run? The beast would have slaughtered us all! As it was, the Highlord realized that he was no match for us and flew off.”
Dragons of the Dwarven Depths Page 5