Now there was a reaction. He saw the delicate jaws clench, the shoulders tremble beneath the cloak. Without a word, Laurana turned and stalked out of the cell. So he was right. This had something to do with the bearded half-elf. But what? Tanis had left Kit in Flotsam. Had she found him again? Had he returned to her? Bakaris fell silent, wrapping the cloak around him. Not that it mattered, not to him. He would be able to use this new information for his own revenge. Recalling Laurana’s strained and rigid face in the moonlight, Bakaris thanked the Dark Queen for her favors as the dwarf shoved him out the cell door.
The sun had not risen yet, although a faint pink line on the eastern horizon foretold that dawn was an hour or so away. It was still dark in the city of Kalaman—dark and silent as the town slept soundly following its day and night of revelry. Even the guards yawned at their posts or, in some cases, snored as they slept soundly. It was an easy task for the four heavily cloaked figures to flit silently through the streets until they came to a small locked door in the city wall.
“This used to lead to some stairs that led up to the top of the wall, across it, then back down to the other side,” whispered Tasslehoff, fumbling in one of his pouches until he found his lock-picking tools.
“How do you know?” Flint muttered, peering around nervously.
“I used to come to Kalaman when I was little,” Tas said. Finding the slender piece of wire, his small, skilled hands slipped it inside the lock. “My parents brought me. We always came in and out this way.”
“Why didn’t you use the front gate, or would that have been too simple?” Flint growled.
“Hurry up!” ordered Laurana impatiently.
“We would have used the front gate,” Tas said, manipulating the wire. “Ah, there.” Removing the wire, he put it carefully back into his pouch, then quietly swung the old door open. “Where was I? Oh, yes. We would have used the front gate, but kender weren’t allowed in the city.”
“And your parents came in anyway!” Flint snorted, following Tas through the door and up a narrow flight of stone stairs. The dwarf was only half-listening to the kender. He kept his eye on Bakaris, who was, in Flint’s view, behaving himself just a bit too well. Laurana had withdrawn completely within herself. Her only words were sharp commands to hurry.
“Well, of course,” Tas said, prattling away cheerfully. “They always considered it an oversight. I mean, why should we be on the same list as goblins? Someone must have put us there accidentally. But my parents didn’t consider it polite to argue, so we just came in and out by the side door. Easier for everyone all around. Here we are. Open that door—it’s not usually locked. Oops, careful. There’s a guard. Wait until he’s gone.”
Pressing themselves against the wall, they hid in the shadows until the guard had stumbled wearily past, nearly asleep on his feet. Then they silently crossed the wall, entered another door, ran down another flight of stairs, and were outside the city walls.
They were alone. Flint, looking around, could see no sign of anybody or anything in the half-light before dawn. Shivering, he huddled in his cloak, feeling apprehension creep over him. What if Kitiara was telling the truth? What if Tanis was with her? What if he was dying?
Angrily Flint forced himself to stop thinking about that. He almost hoped it was a trap! Suddenly his mind was wrenched from its dark thoughts by a harsh voice, speaking so near that he started in terror.
“Is that you, Bakaris?”
“Yes. Good to see you again, Gakhan.”
Shaking, Flint turned to see a dark figure emerge from the shadows of the wall. It was heavily cloaked and swathed in cloth. He remembered Tas’s description of the draconian.
“Are they carrying any other weapons?” Gakhan demanded, his eyes on Flint’s battle-axe.
“No,” Laurana answered sharply.
“Search them,” Gakhan ordered Bakaris.
“You have my word of honor,” Laurana said angrily. “I am a princess of the Qualinesti—”
Bakaris took a step toward her. “Elves have their own code of honor,” he sneered. “Or so you said the night you shot me with your cursed arrow.”
Laurana’s face flushed, but she made no answer nor did she fall back before his advance.
Coming to stand in front of her, Bakaris lifted his right arm with his left hand, then let it fall. “You destroyed my career, my life.”
Laurana, holding herself rigid, watched him without moving. “I said I carry no weapons.”
“You can search me, if you like,” offered Tasslehoff, interposing himself—accidentally—between Bakaris and Laurana. “Here!” He dumped the contents of a pouch onto Bakaris’s foot.
“Damn you!” Bakaris swore, cuffing the kender on the side of the head.
“Flint!” Laurana cautioned warningly through clenched teeth. She could see the dwarf’s face red with rage. At her command, the dwarf choked back his anger.
“I’m s-sorry, truly!” Tas snuffled, fumbling around the ground after his things.
“If you delay much longer, we won’t have to alert the guard,” Laurana said coldly, determined not to tremble at the man’s foul touch. “The sun will be up and they will see us clearly.”
“The elfwoman is right, Bakaris,” Gakhan said, an edge in his reptilian voice. “Take the dwarf’s battle-axe and let’s get out of here.”
Looking at the brightening horizon—and at the cloaked and hooded draconian—Bakaris gave Laurana a vicious glance, then snatched the battle-axe away from the dwarf.
“He’s no threat! What’s an old man like him going to do, anyway?” Bakaris muttered.
“Get moving,” Gakhan ordered Laurana, ignoring Bakaris. “Head for that grove of trees. Keep hidden and don’t try alerting the guard. I am a magic-user and my spells are deadly. The Dark Lady said to bring you safely, ‘general.’ I have no instructions regarding your two friends.”
They followed Gakhan across the flat, open ground outside the city gates to a large grove of trees, keeping in the shadows as much as possible. Bakaris walked beside Laurana. Holding her head high, she resolutely refused to even acknowledge his existence. Reaching the trees, Gakhan pointed.
“Here are our mounts,” he said.
“We’re not going anywhere!” Laurana said angrily, staring at the creatures in alarm.
At first Flint thought they were small dragons, but as he drew nearer, the dwarf caught his breath.
“Wyvern!” he breathed.
Distantly related to dragons, wyvern are smaller and lighter and were often used by the Highlords to relay messages, as the griffons were used by the elven lords. Not nearly as intelligent as dragons, the wyvern are noted for their cruel and chaotic natures. The animals in the grove peered at the companions with red eyes, their scorpionlike tails curled menacingly. Tipped with poison, the tail could sting an enemy to death within seconds.
“Where is Tanis?” Laurana demanded.
“He grew worse,” Gakhan answered. “If you want to see him, you must come to Dargaard Keep.”
“No,” Laurana drew back, only to feel Bakaris’s hand close over her arm in a firm grip.
“Don’t call for help,” he said pleasantly, “or one of your friends will die. Well, it seems we’re taking a little trip to Dargaard Keep. Tanis is a dear friend. I’d hate for him to miss seeing you.” Bakaris turned to the draconian. “Gakhan, go back to Kalaman. Let us know the reaction of the people when they discover their ‘general’ missing.”
Gakhan hesitated, his dark reptilian eyes regarding Bakaris warily. Kitiara had warned him something like this might occur. He guessed what Bakaris had in mind—his own private revenge. Gakhan could stop Bakaris, that was no problem. But there was the chance that—during the unpleasantness—one of the prisoners might escape and go for help. They were too near the city walls for comfort. Blast Bakaris anyway! Gakhan scowled, then realized there was nothing he could do but hope Kitiara had provided for this contingency. Shrugging, Gakhan comforted himself with the thought o
f Bakaris’s fate when he returned to the Dark Lady.
“Certainly, Commander,” the draconian replied smoothly. Bowing, Gakhan faded back into the shadows. They could see his cloaked figure darting from tree to tree, heading for Kalaman. Bakaris’s face grew eager, the cruel lines around the bearded mouth deepened.
“Come on, General.” Bakaris shoved Laurana toward the wyvern.
But instead of advancing, Laurana whirled to face the man.
“Tell me one thing,” she said through pale lips. “Is it true? Is Tanis with … with Kitiara? Th-the note said he was wounded at Vingaard Keep … dying!”
Seeing the anguish in her eyes—anguish not for herself, but for the half-elf—Bakaris smiled. He had never dreamed revenge could be so satisfying. “How should I know? I’ve been locked in your stinking prison. But I find it difficult to believe he’d be wounded. Kit never allowed him near a fight! The only battles he wages are those of love.…”
Laurana’s head drooped. Bakaris laid a hand on her arm in mocking sympathy. Angrily Laurana shook free, turning to keep her face hidden.
“I don’t believe you!” Flint growled. “Tanis would never allow Kitiara to do this—”
“Oh, you’re right there, dwarf,” Bakaris said, realizing quickly just how far his lies would be believed. “He knows nothing of this. The Dark Lady sent him to Neraka weeks ago, to prepare for our audience with the Queen.”
“You know, Flint,” Tas said solemnly. “Tanis was really fond of Kitiara. Do you remember that party at the Inn of the Last Home? It was Tanis’s Day of Life Gift party. He’d just ‘come of age’ by elven standards and, boy! Was that some party! Do you remember? Caramon got a tankard of ale dumped over his head when he grabbed Dezra. And Raistlin drank too much wine and one of his spells misfired and burned up Otik’s apron, and Kit and Tanis were together in that corner next to the firepit, and they were—”
Bakaris glanced at Tas in annoyance. The commander disliked being reminded of how close Kitiara really was to the half-elf. “Tell the kender to keep quiet, General,” Bakaris growled, “or I’ll let the wyvern have him. Two hostages would suit the Dark Lady just as well as three.”
“So it is a trap,” Laurana said softly, looking around in a daze. “Tanis isn’t dying … he’s not even there! I’ve been a fool—”
“We’re not going anywhere with you!” Flint stated, planting his feet on the ground firmly.
Bakaris regarded him coolly. “Have you ever seen a wyvern sting anyone to death?”
“No,” said Tas with interest, “but I saw a scorpion once. Is it like that? Not that I’d want to try it, mind you,” the kender faltered, seeing Bakaris’s face darken.
“The guards on the walls of the city might well hear your screams,” Bakaris said to Laurana, who stared at him as if he were speaking a language she didn’t comprehend. “But, by then, it would be too late.”
“I’ve been a fool,” Laurana repeated softly.
“Say the word, Laurana!” Flint said stubbornly. “We’ll fight—”
“No,” she said in a small voice, like a child’s. “No. I won’t risk your lives, not you and Tas. It was my folly. I will pay. Bakaris, take me. Let my friends go—”
“Enough of this!” Bakaris said impatiently. “I’m not letting anyone go!” Climbing onto the back of a wyvern, he extended his hand to Laurana. “There’s only two, so we’ll have to double up.”
Her face expressionless, Laurana accepted Bakaris’s help and climbed onto the wyvern. Putting his good arm around her, he held her close, grinning.
At his touch, Laurana’s face regained some of its color. Angrily, she tried to free herself from his grip.
“You are much safer this way, General,” Bakaris said harshly in her ear. “I would not want you to fall.”
Laurana bit her lip and stared straight ahead, forcing herself not to cry.
“Do these creatures always smell so awful,” Tas said, regarding the wyvern with disgust as he helped Flint mount. “I think you should convince them to bathe—”
“Watch the tail,” Bakaris said coldly. “The wyvern will generally not kill unless I give them the command, but they are high-strung. Little things upset them.”
“Oh.” Tas gulped. “I’m sure I didn’t mean to be insulting. Actually, I suppose one could get used to the smell, after a bit—”
At a signal from Bakaris, the wyvern spread their leathery wings and soared into the air, flying slowly under the unaccustomed burden. Flint gripped Tasslehoff tightly and kept his eyes on Laurana, flying ahead of them with Bakaris. Occasionally the dwarf saw Bakaris lean close to Laurana and he saw Laurana pull away from him. The dwarf’s face grew grim.
“That Bakaris is up to no good!” the dwarf muttered to Tas.
“What?” said Tas, turning around.
“I said that Bakaris is up to no good!” the dwarf shouted. “And I’ll wager he’s acting on his own and not following orders, either. That Gakhan-character wasn’t at all pleased about being ordered off.”
“What?” Tas yelled. “I can’t hear! All this wind—”
“Oh, never mind!” The dwarf felt dizzy all of a sudden. He was finding it hard to breathe. Trying to take his mind off himself, he stared gloomily down at the tree tops emerging from the shadows as the sun began to rise.
After flying for about an hour, Bakaris made a motion with his hand and the wyvern began slowly circling, searching for a clear place to land on the heavily forested mountainside. Pointing at a small clearing just barely visible among the trees, Bakaris shouted instructions to the lead beast. The wyvern landed as ordered and Bakaris climbed down.
Flint glanced around, his fears growing. There was no sign of any fortress. No sign of life of any kind. They were in a small cleared area, surrounded by tall pine trees whose ancient limbs were so thick and tangled that they effectively shut out most of the sun’s light. Around them, the forest was dark and filled with moving shadows. At one end of the clearing Flint saw a small cave, carved out of the cliff face.
“Where are we?” Laurana asked sternly. “This can’t possibly be Dargaard Keep. Why are we stopping?”
“Astute observation, General,” Bakaris said pleasantly. “Dargaard Keep is about a mile farther up the mountain. They’re not expecting us yet. The Dark Lady probably hasn’t even had her breakfast. We wouldn’t want to be impolite and disturb her, would we?” He glanced over at Tas and Flint. “You two—stay put,” he instructed as the kender seemed about to jump down. Tas froze.
Moving to stand near Laurana, Bakaris placed his hand on the neck of the wyvern. The beast’s lidless eyes followed his every move as expectantly as a dog waiting to be fed.
“You get down, Lady Laurana,” Bakaris said with lethal softness, coming quite near her as she sat upon the wyvern’s back, regarding him scornfully. “We’ve time for a little … breakfast ourselves.…”
Laurana’s eyes flashed. Her hand moved to her sword with such conviction she almost convinced herself it was there. “Stand away from me!” she commanded with such presence that, for a moment, Bakaris halted. Then, grinning, he reached up and grabbed hold of her wrist.
“No, lady. I wouldn’t struggle. Remember the wyvern—and your friends over there. One word from me, and they will die very nasty deaths!”
Cringing, Laurana looked over to see the wyvern’s scorpion tail poised above Flint’s back. The beast quivered with anticipation of the kill.
“No! Laurana,” Flint began in agony, but she cast a sharp glance at him, reminding him that she was still the general. Her face drained of life, she allowed Bakaris to help her down.
“There, I thought you looked hungry,” Bakaris said, grinning.
“Let them go!” Laurana demanded. “It’s me you want—”
“You’re right there,” Bakaris said, grabbing hold of her around her waist. “But their presence seems to insure your good behavior.”
“Don’t you worry about us, Laurana!” Flint roared.
> “Shut up, dwarf!” Bakaris cried in a rage. Shoving Laurana back against the body of the wyvern, he turned to stare at the dwarf and the kender. Flint’s blood chilled as he saw the wild madness in the man’s eyes.
“I—I think we’d better do as he says, Flint,” Tas said, swallowing. “He’ll hurt Laurana—”
“Hurt her? Oh, not much,” Bakaris said, laughing. “She will still be useful to Kitiara for whatever purpose she may have in mind. But don’t move, dwarf. I may forget myself!” Bakaris warned, hearing Flint choke in anger. He turned back to Laurana. “As it is, Kitiara won’t mind if I have a little fun with the lady first. No, don’t faint—”
It was an old elven self-defense technique. Flint had seen it done often and he tensed, ready to act as Laurana’s eyes rolled up, her body sagged, and her knees seemed to give way.
Instinctively, Bakaris reached to catch her.
“No, you don’t! I like my women lively—oof!”
Laurana’s fist slammed into his stomach, knocking the breath from his body. Doubling over in pain, he fell forward. Bringing her knee up, Laurana caught him directly under the chin. As Bakaris pitched into the dirt, Flint grabbed the startled kender and slid off the wyvern.
“Run, Flint! Quickly!” Laurana gasped, leaping away from the wyvern and the man groaning on the ground. “Get into the woods!”
But Bakaris, his face twisted with rage, reached out his hand and grabbed Laurana’s ankle. She stumbled and fell flat, kicking frantically at him. Wielding a tree limb, Flint leaped at Bakaris as the commander was struggling to his feet. Hearing Flint’s roar, Bakaris spun around and struck the dwarf in the face with the back of his hand. In the same motion, he caught hold of Laurana’s arm and dragged her to her feet. Then, turning, he glared at Tas, who had run up beside the unconscious dwarf.
“The lady and I are going into the cave … “Bakaris said, breathing heavily. He gave Laurana’s arm a wrench, causing her to cry out in pain. “Make one move, kender, and I’ll break her arm. Once we get into the cave, I don’t want to be disturbed. There’s a dagger in my belt. I’ll be holding it to the lady’s throat. Do you understand, little fool?”
Dragons of Spring Dawning Page 17