The mock battle continued until all the evil creatures and the black-robed wizard had been driven away.
"We are saved! Thanks to Paladine, we are saved!" the players in human dress shouted and the onlookers jumped up from the benches and joined in the jubilant shout. The musicians hurried back onto the platform and the music began again.
As the crowd began to mill about, Trap hurried to pick up the little unexploded ball and examined it. Slightly smaller than a chicken egg, it was made of very thin glass and was partitioned. One side held powder and the other a liquid. He slipped it in his pouch, thinking someone might step on it and break it, setting fire to his or her feet.
He decided that he should give it back to the man who played the white-robed wizard. When he went in search of the tall human, all he found was the white robe, discarded on a bench at the end of the square. He fingered the robe, and inside a pocket he found six more unexploded flame balls.
"Gee! That's dangerous! What if someone were to sit on the cloak?" he asked himself, grinning as he pictured one of the revelers setting his pants afire. He put the rest of the balls in his pouches, intending to return them when he found the player that had worn the white robes.
He had just fastened the strap on his pouch when Halmarain appeared from behind a group of dancing villagers. She seemed to be fighting her heavy boots as she hurried toward Trap. Her face was stiff with anger and worry.
"I've lost that… I've lost Beglug," she said in a soft voice that was loaded with frustration.
"Let him have some fun. He's probably just looking at the costumes," Trap said, sure there was no cause for worry. "He seemed to be fascinated by them."
"That wasn't fascination. I had him under a calming spell to keep him quiet," Halmarain whispered. "But I was speaking to another… to someone I met and I forgot to renew the spell. We have to locate him before he does something terrible. You start looking. I'll find the others and set them to searching."
Trap sighed. He would be glad to get the little fiend and the wizard to Palanthus so he'd be free to explore. He slipped through the crowd, but as far as he could tell, the merchesti was not among the dancers. Then he heard a barking, snarling dog and a sound that was half whine, half roar. The noises came from behind the inn. The dog snarled again and gave a yelp of pain. Silence greeted the kender as he trotted around the corner and into the rear yard of the inn. Beglug stood backed up against the wall of the inn. He was holding a headless dog and crunching away.
Trap shuddered at the sound of breaking bones, but he could hardly blame the little fiend, who had not been doing any harm by exploring. The dog had been snarling and should have been more friendly. Still, he didn't want any of the villagers to see the merchesti eating the dog.
A few feet from the back of the inn was a small shed. "Bring it in here," he said, gesturing for Beglug to follow him. He managed to get Beglug into the woodshed and had just closed the door when a burly human in the costume of a beast-man came through the rear door of the inn. He carried a plate of meat scraps which he placed on the ground as he glared at Trap.
"What are you doing back here?" he demanded.
"Uh, trying to find a way into the inn," the kender said. "I wanted to arrange lodgings for the night, but the front door was blocked by benches." From the half closed door of the wood shed he could hear the crunch of bones. "Yes, trying to find a way into the inn," Trap repeated, nearly shouting as he tried to cover the sound of the merchesti's grisly feast. "I couldn't find the way in. We're travelers, and we want rooms for the night."
• "People usually enter the inn by the front door," the man said, staring at the kender suspiciously.
"I tried. There were so many people and so many benches I couldn't get in," Trap said. "They blocked your door. You shouldn't allow them to do that, they keep your customers away."
He had to draw the man away before Beglug came out of the shed.
"We'll need four rooms," Trap said, just picking a number at random. Anything to keep the man away from the shed.
"If I had four extra rooms, I'd be a fool to let them to a kender who would leave in the morning without paying," the human said. He looked around, eyeing the broken rope tied to a hook near the door. "You're just lucky the dog wasn't back here. He's a mean one; you'd be chewed to pieces."
"I'll pay for the rooms now," Trap said, reaching in his pouch for Orander's magic purse which was nearly bursting with coins. "I don't understand why you would think I wouldn't, but if you want to be sure, I'll pay for the rooms in advance." Trap pulled out the little leather bag which seemed to be heavier than ever. He brought out a handful of steel pieces and skipped away from the shed and into the alley. He hoped the sight of ready money would draw the innkeeper along with him.
"Four rooms," Trap said, pouring the steel pieces from one hand to the other, using the clink of the money to help hide the crunching noises. "We're traveling and we really need our rest, and even if we don't rest much because there's a party going on we still need a place to put our packs."
"Well…" the innkeeper breathed, following along. "I've only got one room left, but it's big. I've some straw pallets, and I'll be wanting two steel pieces for each person using it." The stout human glanced around, still looking for the dog.
"I'll pay for the six of us, twelve steel pieces," Trap said as he led the innkeeper down the alley on the way to the front of the inn. The price was outrageous, but since the purse refilled itself every time he took coins from it, Trap didn't mind.
"And you can include our food in the price," Trap said quickly. He flipped a steel piece into the air and it glittered in the sunlight.
"I guess I can hunt up the dog later," the innkeeper said, greed dripping from his speech.
When they reached the square, Trap spotted Ripple and Halmarain as they searched through the crowd for the merchesti. He winked, nodded, and keeping his hands out of sight of the innkeeper, pointed down the alley he was just leaving. Halmarain frowned. Ripple understood. She was whispering to the little wizard when Trap followed their soon-to-be-host. The stout human stepped over a bench and into the front door of the inn. The kender scrambled along behind him.
Trap secured the room. Halmarain and Ripple had located Beglug, cleaned the dog's blood from his face and clothing, and brought him back to the square. While Halmarain took the little fiend up to their chamber, the kender located the gully dwarves.
An hour later the little wizard sat curled up on the bed in their chamber, her spellbooks stacked beside her. Beglug slept off his dinner on a straw pallet. All their gear lay in the corner of the room and the gully dwarves had washed off the soil of their celebration. They seemed to pick up dirt just walking across the room. Ripple looked around the room, looked out the window, and smiled.
"Oh, look. They're bringing out more food. If we find celebrations like this in every village, the trip to Palanthus will be fun," she said.
"May Gilean preserve me from any more celebrations," the wizard said. "I just want a quiet trip."
"Then if we're only to have one fun time, we should enjoy it," Ripple snapped. "You stay and study your books if you want, but we're going back to the party."
"Stay out of trouble," Halmarain warned. "Remember the reason for our journey."
"Are humans always so serious about everything?" Ripple asked her brother as they descended the steps from their chamber to the common room of the inn.
"I don't think so," Trap said slowly. "After all, look at the people in the square."
Earne had told them the local farmers, hunters and many adventurers came into Deepdel to enjoy the celebration, and the common room of the inn was crowded.
Neither of the kender had eaten anything since they arrived, so they found seats for themselves and the gully dwarves at the end of a table. At the other end, two hunters and a pair of adventurers were trading tales.
The innkeeper had watched them descend the stairs. They had been at the table for a couple of minutes when
a roly-poly woman plumped plates of food and mugs of ale on the table.
When Trap had lured the landlord away from the sounds of Beglug's canine feast, the kender had dickered over the high price of the room. The price had not diminished a steel piece, but the innkeeper had agreed to include their food and drink. The trenchers were well filled; the innkeeper was not stinting them on food. Grod cleaned his plate and looked around for more to eat. Umpth, larger but not quite as greedy as his brother, slurped the last of his ale. The kender were still munching away when a chorus of complaints came from the other end of the table.
"And the scabs robbed us on the way to Ironrock," one of the adventurers was saying. He glared down toward their end of the table. "One of the group was a kender."
Trap and Ripple looked up, both wide-eyed and still chewing their food. They wondered why the adventurers were staring at them. Grod pulled off his helmet, exposing his blond head. He assumed an expression of sorrow.
"That kender dead," he said. "Make a good tale, that."
"If the scoundrel got his just deserts, I'd be glad to hear how," the other adventurer said. He shouted for the inn-keeper and gestured for ale all around the table. "You tell, you make good story," Grod said to Trap.
The kender cast a regretful eye on his still half-filled plate, but more ale would be welcome, and he did love a good story. He considered repeating the one he had told in Lytburg and decided against it. Retold tales were never as much fun as new stories.
He thought quickly, casting his mind about for some interesting subject to use as the center of his fabrication. Outside the windows of the inn he could see the raised platform where the musicians were performing. His eyes rested on the wooden dragon.
He bowed his head, pulled up the image of his dead Uncle Goalong which always brought on tears. He formed the first part of his story, deciding to add a new touch. Before they left Orander's caverns, Halmarain had read them a story in one of the magic books. The beginning had been so solemn, Trap had known immediately that the tale would be important. He worked out the words that would make his tale sound important.
"It is fitting that the tale be told on this day," he said, looking down the table, though he could barely see through the teary blur. He noticed with satisfaction that one drop trickled down his cheek, which made a nice touch.
"Not all the creatures created by the wizard Canoglid entered Deepdel in that terrible time when the white and black wizards fought." He leaned forward and turned his head so he could see the hunters on the same side of the table. They were separated from him by Umpth who sat by his side.
"Sometimes something robs your traps and you don't know what it is-of course sometimes you do, but not always, since you're not there to see, not that you could be there all the time at every trap because you'd have to be ten or twenty of yourself-"
"Kobolds and goblins raid traps," one hunter said. "We know that. Get on with your tale." He had not paid much attention to the kender until asked about his traps. His eyes sharpened and his mouth formed a thin line.
"It's true, they would raid your traps if they had a chance, but there are other, more dangerous creatures in the southern reaches of the Vingaard Mountains," Trap said with a shudder and remembered he was going to make this tale important. "Remember, the wizard Canoglid was a servant of Takhisis, Queen of the Dragons."
"You're not telling me a dragon has been raiding our traps," the hunter scoffed. "There are no more dragons on Krynn."
"Not real dragons," Trap agreed. "But are there many creatures today that are like the costumes worn by the people of Deepdel? Look into the square, at the size and shape of that wooden carving. Did someone really think it up? Ask yourself if it came from someone's imagination, or if there might be such a creature hidden in the mountains." He bowed his head again. "The Trapspringer who robbed the adventurers could tell you the truth if he were still alive."
"You knew this robber?" the stoutest of the adventurers asked. His face full of suspicion.
"Yes, I fear so. I not only knew him, he was an uncle and we were both the namesakes of a single ancestor," Trap grudgingly admitted. He liked that touch, but the adventurers were getting restless and he wanted to tell his new tale.
First he set the foundation of his story. He told how the dragonlike creature created by the black-robed wizard had chased a hart into the mountains on the day of the fateful battle a thousand years ago. It had not been in Deepdel to be destroyed by the white-robed wizard's creatures.
"Why have we never heard of this monster?" The disbelieving hunter scoffed.
"Because those who see it never live to tell of it," Ripple added to the tale. "Think of the hunters you have known who never came back to trade their furs."
The speaking looks exchanged by the listeners suggested Ripple's remark had made a solid hit. Several that had scoffed lost their sneering expressions.
Trap wove his tale around a group of bandits who had retreated to the mountains to avoid a chase. Bored, the kender outlaw went exploring and had met the small dragon.
Since the creature had speech and was lonely, it always talked to its victims before it killed them. It proposed a game of tales, and if the kender could tell a better story than the dragon, the kender could go away unharmed.
Other patrons of the inn had gathered around the table. The kender wove a tale of how the dragon and the kender agreed on a wager, the dragon promised jewels from its hoard while the kender outlaw produced stolen valuables from his many pouches. But finally the kender had told all his tales.
"So the small dragon, who had developed a tremendous appetite while listening and telling stories of his own-you know how hungry a dragon can get-gobbled up our uncle. Now my journey, my task to find him and bring him back to Hylo, has been for nothing," Trap finished.
By the time the tale was told, the other Trapspringer had become real to Ripple again. She cried at his death. The one fallacy of the tale was caught by the disbelieving hunter.
"If no one has ever seen this dragon, and the kender is dead, how did you hear the story?"
"The half-goblin in the robber band had gone in search of my uncle. He heard the stories. You know what half-goblins are. He sneaked away, leaving my Uncle Trap-springer to his fate." Trap liked that last part-to his fate. That sounded important too.
"There was a half-goblin," the adventurer who had been robbed, nodded thoughtfully. "And they'd not risk themselves to protect their own mothers."
One of the hunters still half doubted Trap's tale. The second had accepted it and followed the kender's story with one if his own. His tale gave credence to Trap's fabrication. The adventurers, not to be left out, related some of their adventures. The sun went down, some hardy villagers kept dancing in the square, but the two kender listened, enthralled. The gully dwarves had slipped away. They wandered about the room, finishing off mugs of ale and meals that had been left on the tables by patrons who gathered around the table where the tales were being told.
Halmarain came seeking the kender, insisting they return to the chambers and their beds. She wanted to make an early start, so they led the two staggering gully dwarves up the stairs.
Chapter 13
… and Astinus of Palanthus continued…
Draaddis Vulter stood in front of the black globe, where Takhisis, Queen of Darkness raged.
"He lost them?" she demanded of the wizard. "Kaldre lost them?"
"According to my messenger, they were all caught up in the maze of gorges south of the Vingaard Mountains. Kaldre lead the band of kobolds, as you ordered, but a group of goblins attacked him. By the time he had driven off the goblins, the kender and the merchesti had escaped… if they were ever there."
"Are you saying you sent a fool in search of them?" Takhisis demanded. An illusion of spiders, hundreds of thousands formed on the walls, the floor, and the furnishings in the wizard's work room.
"My lady can see into all hearts and read all thoughts," Draaddis bowed, knowing he was givin
g her credit for more than she could really do, yet the flattery might appease her.
"My queen knows I would not willingly send a fool, yet circumstances can form traps for the feet of even the wisest. Who could have foreseen the presence of a band of goblins on their path or that the kender in their silliness would call both groups together and then escape in the ensuing battle? There is another problem as well. The goblins, enraged at being attacked, are following Kaldre and his kobolds. No doubt he will elude them and further trouble."
"Unbelievable! Goblins not withstanding, how could Kaldre and the kobolds have missed the kender and the merchesti?"
"It could only have been bad luck, my queen, since my messenger brought back an image to show they were traveling with a dwarf, Neidar in dress, and two Aghar, who were dressed as Neidar as well."
"What would they want with Aghar, who are even more foolish than kender?" Takhisis asked.
"I have no idea, but as you say, the foolishness of gully dwarves and kender together must deliver them into our hands. I've no doubt that Jaerume Kaldre will find the kender… and the little merchesti."
It had been Takhisis, not Draaddis, who had chosen Jaerume Kaldre and insisted that the wizard raise him from the dead and send him after the kender. She had even chosen the kobolds as the death knight's allies. The black-robed wizard just hoped she would remember it. He knew better than to remind her.
"He had better find them," she said, sending out a blast of evil frustration that threatened to crumble the walls of Draaddis' hidden workroom beneath the ruins. She calmed down but glared at the wizard with one perfect eye, enlarged by the globe.
"Are you sure you impressed upon him the urgency of his mission?" "I tried, my queen…"
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