Dragonlance 03 - Dragons of Spring Dawning (31 page)

“Besides,” said the kender cheerfully, “think how much trouble you’d get into without me!”

T
he city of Kalaman was deathly silent the night after the Dark Lady issued her ultimatum. Lord Calof declared a State of War, which meant all taverns were closed, the city gates were locked and barred, no one allowed to leave. The only people permitted to enter were families from the small farming and fishing villages near Kalaman. These refugees began arriving near sundown, telling fearful tales of draconians swarming over their land, looting and burning.

Although some of the noblemen of Kalaman had been opposed to such a drastic measure as a declared State of War, Tanis and Gilthanas—united for once—had forced the Lord to make this decision. Both of them painted vivid and horrifying pictures of the burning of the city of Tarsis. These proved extremely convincing. Lord Calof made his declaration, but
then stared at the two men helplessly. It was obvious he had no idea what to do in regard to the defense of the city. The horrifying shadow of the floating citadel hovering above had completely unnerved the lord, and most of his military leaders were in little better shape. After listening to some of their wilder ideas, Tanis rose to his feet.

“I have a suggestion, my lord,” he said respectfully. “You have a person here, well-qualified to take over the defense of this city—”

“You, Half-Elf?” interrupted Gilthanas with a bitter smile.

“No,” said Tanis gently. “You, Gilthanas.”

“An elf?” said Lord Calof in amazement.

“He was in Tarsis. He has had experience fighting the draconians and the dragons. The good dragons trust him and will follow his judgment.”

“That’s true!” Calof said. A look of vast relief crossed his face as he turned to Gilthanas. “We know how elves feel about humans, my lord, and—I must admit—most humans feel the same about elves. But we would be eternally grateful if you could help us in this time of peril.”

Gilthanas stared at Tanis, puzzled for a moment. He could read nothing in the half-elf’s bearded face. It was almost, he thought, the face of a dead man. Lord Calof repeated his question, adding something about “reward,” apparently thinking Gilthanas’s hesitation was due to a reluctance to accept the responsibility.

“No, my lord!” Gilthanas came out of his reverie with a start. “No reward is necessary or even wanted. If I can help save the people of this city, that will be reward enough. As for being of different races”—Gilthanas looked once more at Tanis—“perhaps I have learned enough to know that doesn’t make any difference. It never did.”

“Tell us what to do,” Calof said eagerly.

“First, I would like a word with Tanis,” Gilthanas said, seeing the half-elf preparing to depart.

“Certainly. There is a small room through the door to your right where you may talk in private.” The Lord gestured.

Once inside the small, luxuriously appointed room, both men stood in uncomfortable silence for long moments, neither looking at the other directly. Gilthanas was the first to break the silence.

“I have always despised humans,” the elflord said slowly, “and now I find myself preparing to take on the responsibility of protecting them.” He smiled. “It is a good feeling,” he added softly, looking directly at Tanis for the first time.

Tanis’s eyes met Gilthanas’s and his grim face relaxed for a moment, though he did not return the elflord’s smile. Then his gaze fell, his grave expression returned.

“You’re going to Neraka, aren’t you?” Gilthanas said after another long pause.

Tanis nodded, wordlessly.

“Your friends? They’re going with you?”

“Some of them,” Tanis replied. “They all want to go, but—” He found he could not continue, remembering their devotion. He shook his head.

Gilthanas stared down at an ornately carved table, absently running his hand over the gleaming wood.

“I must leave,” Tanis said heavily, starting for the door. “I have a lot yet to do. We plan to leave at midnight, after Solinari’s set—”

“Wait.” Gilthanas put his hand on the half-elf’s arm. “I—I want to tell you I’m sorry … about what I said this morning. No, Tanis, don’t leave. Hear me out. This isn’t easy for me.” Gilthanas paused a moment. “I’ve learned a great deal, Tanis—about myself. The lessons have been hard ones. I forgot them … when I heard about Laurana. I was angry and frightened and I wanted to hit someone. You were the closest target. What Laurana did, she did out of love for you. I’m learning about love, too, Tanis. Or I’m trying to learn.” His voice was bitter. “Mostly I’m learning about pain. But that’s my problem.”

Tanis was watching him now. Gilthanas’s hand was still on his shoulder.

“I know now, after I’ve had time to think,” Gilthanas continued softly, “that what Laurana did was right. She
had
to go, or her love would have been meaningless. She had faith in you, believed in you enough to go to you when she heard you were dying, even though it meant going to that evil place—”

Tanis’s head bowed. Gilthanas gripped him tightly, both hands on his shoulders.

“Theros Ironfeld said once that—in all the years he had lived—he had never seen anything done out of love come to evil. We have to believe that, Tanis. What Laurana did, she did
out of love. What you do now, you do out of love. Surely the gods will bless that.”

“Did they bless Sturm?” Tanis asked harshly. “He loved!”

“Didn’t they? How do you know?”

Tanis’s hand closed over Gilthanas’s. He shook his head. He wanted to believe. It sounded wonderful, beautiful … just like tales of dragons. As a child, he’d wanted to believe in dragons, too.…

Sighing, he walked away from the elflord. His hand was on the doorknob when Gilthanas spoke again.

“Farewell … brother.”

The companions met by the wall, at the secret door Tasslehoff had found that led up and over the walls, out into the plains beyond. Gilthanas could, of course, have given them permission to leave by the front gates, but the fewer people who knew of this dark journey the better as far as Tanis was concerned.

Now they were gathered inside the small room at the top of the stairs. Solinari was just sinking behind the distant mountains. Tanis, standing apart from the others, watched the moon as its last silvery rays touched the battlements of the horrible citadel hovering above them. He could see lights in the floating castle. Dark shapes moved around. Who lived in that dreadful thing? Draconians? The black-robed mages and dark clerics whose power had torn it from the soil and now kept it drifting among masses of thick gray clouds?

Behind him, he heard the others talking in soft voices—all except for Berem. The Everman—watched over closely by Caramon—stood apart, his eyes wide and fearful.

For long moments Tanis watched them, then he sighed. He faced another parting, and this one grieved him so that he wondered if he had the strength to make it. Turning slightly, he saw the last beaming rays of Solinari’s fading light touch Goldmoon’s beautiful silver-gold hair. He saw her face, peaceful and serene, even though she contemplated a journey into darkness and danger. And he knew he had the strength.

With a sigh, he walked away from the window to rejoin his friends.

“Is it time?” Tasslehoff asked eagerly.

Tanis smiled, his hand reaching out fondly to stroke Tas’s
ridiculous topknot of hair. In a changing world, kenders remained constant.

“Yes,” Tanis said, “it is time.” His eyes went to Riverwind. “For
some
of us.”

As the Plainsman met the half-elf’s steady, unwavering gaze, the thoughts in his mind were reflected in his face, as clear to Tanis as clouds flitting across the night sky. First Riverwind was uncomprehending, perhaps he had not even heard Tanis’s words. Then the Plainsman realized what had been said. Now he understood, and his stern, rigid face flushed, the brown eyes flared. Tanis said nothing. He simply shifted his gaze to Goldmoon.

Riverwind looked at his wife, who stood in a pool of silvery moonlight, waiting, her own thoughts far away. There was a sweet smile on her lips. A smile Tanis had seen only recently. Perhaps she was seeing her child playing in the sun.

Tanis looked back at Riverwind. He saw the Plainsman’s inner struggle, and Tanis knew that the Que-shu warrior would offer, no, he would insist, on accompanying them, even though it meant leaving Goldmoon behind.

Walking to him, Tanis put his hands on the tall man’s shoulders, looking into the Plainsman’s dark eyes.

“Your work is done, my friend,” Tanis said. “You have walked winter’s path far enough. Here our roads separate. Ours leads into a bleak desert. Yours wends its way through green and blossoming trees. You have a responsibility to the son or daughter you are bringing into the world.” He put his hand on Goldmoon’s shoulder now, drawing her near, seeing her about to protest.

“The baby will be born in the autumn,” Tanis said softly, “when the vallenwoods are red and golden. Don’t cry, my dear.” He gathered Goldmoon into his arms. “The vallenwoods will grow again. And you will take the young warrior or the young maiden into Solace, and you will tell them a story of two people who loved each other so much they brought hope into a world of dragons.”

He kissed her beautiful hair. Then Tika, weeping softly, took his place, bidding Goldmoon farewell. Tanis turned to Riverwind. The Plainsman’s stern mask was gone, his face showed plainly the marks of his grief. Tanis himself could barely see through his tears.

“Gilthanas will need help, planning the defense of the city.” Tanis cleared his throat. “I wish to the gods this was truly the end of your dark winter, but I’m afraid it must last a little longer.”

“The gods are with us, my friend, my brother,” Riverwind said brokenly, embracing the half-elf. “May they be with you, as well. We will wait here for your return.”

Solinari dipped behind the mountains. The only lights in the night sky were the cold and glittering stars and the hideous gleam of windows in the citadel, watching them with yellow eyes. One by one, the companions bid the Plainsmen goodbye. Then, following Tasslehoff, they silently crossed the wall, entered another door, and crept down another staircase. Tas shoved open the door at the bottom. Moving cautiously, hands on their weapons, the companions stepped out onto the plain.

For a moment, they stood huddled together, staring out across the plain where, even in the deep darkness, it seemed to them they would be visible to thousands of eyes watching from the citadel above.

Standing next to Berem, Tanis could feel the man shivering with fear and he felt glad he had assigned Caramon to watch him. Ever since Tanis had stated they were going to Neraka, the half-elf had seen a frantic, haunted look in the man’s blue eyes, much like the look of a trapped animal. Tanis caught himself pitying the man, then hardened his heart. Too much was at stake. Berem was the key, the answer lay within him and within Neraka. Just how they were going to go about discovering the answer, Tanis hadn’t decided yet, although the beginnings of a plan stirred in his brain.

Far away, the blaring noise of horns split the night air. An orange light flared on the horizon. Draconians, burning a village. Tanis gripped his cloak around him. Though Spring Dawning had come and past, the chill of winter was still in the air.

“Move out,” he said softly.

One by one, he watched them run across the strip of open grassland, racing to reach the shelter of the grove of trees beyond. Here small, fast-flying brass dragons waited to carry them into the mountains.

This might all end tonight, Tanis though nervously, watching Tasslehoff scamper into the darkness like a mouse. If the
dragons were discovered, if the watching eyes in the citadel saw them, it would be all over. Berem would fall into the hands of the Queen. Darkness would cover the land.

Tika followed Tas, running lightly and surely. Flint ran close behind, wheezing. The dwarf looked older. The thought that he was unwell crossed Tanis’s mind, but he knew Flint would never agree to stay behind. Now Caramon ran through the darkness, his armor clanking. One hand was fixed firmly on Berem, tugging him along beside him.

My turn, Tanis realized, seeing the others safely sheltered within the grove. This is it. For good or for evil, the story is drawing near its end. Glancing up, he saw Goldmoon and Riverwind watching them from the small window in the tower room.

For good or for evil.

What if it does end in darkness, Tanis wondered for the first time. What will become of the world? What will become of those I’m leaving behind?

Steadily he looked up at these two people who were as dear to him as the family he’d never known. And, as he watched, he saw Goldmoon light a candle. For a brief instant the flame illuminated her face and Riverwind’s. They raised their hands in parting, then extinguished the flame lest unfriendly eyes see it.

Taking a deep breath, Tanis turned and tensed himself to run.

The darkness might conquer, but it could never extinguish hope. And though one candle, or many, might flicker and die, new candles would be lit from the old.