Margaret Weis - Time of the Twins

Tanis rose swiftly to his feet. “The Inn is closed for the night,” he shouted.

There were jeers from the crowd, except for some scattered applause near the back where several customers thought he was buying a round of drinks.

“No, I mean it,” Tanis said firmly, his voice carrying over the noise. The crowd quieted. “Thank you all for this welcome. I cannot tell you what it means to me to come back to my homeland. But, my friends and I would like to be alone now. Please, it is late...”

There were murmurs of sympathy and some good-natured clapping. Only a few scowled and muttered comments about the greater the knight the more his own armor glares in his eyes (an old saying from the days when the Solamnic Knights were held in derision). Riverwind, leaving Dezra to take care of Tika, came forward to prod those few stragglers who assumed Tanis meant everyone except them. The half-elf stood guard over Caramon, who was snoring blissfully on the floor, keeping people from stepping on the big man. He exchanged glances with Riverwind as the Plainsman passed, but neither had time to speak until the Inn was emptied.

Otik Sandeth stood by the door, thanking everyone for coming and assuring each that the Inn would be open again tomorrow night. When everyone else had gone, Tanis stepped up to the retired proprietor, feeling awkward and embarrassed. But Otik stopped him before he could speak.

Gripping Tanis’s hand in his, the elderly man whispered, “I’m glad you’ve come back. Lock up when you’re finished.” He glanced at Tika, then motioned the half-elf forward conspiratorially. “Tanis,” he said in a whisper, “if you happen to see Tika take a little out of the money box, pay it no mind. She’ll pay it back someday. I just pretend not to notice.” His gaze went to Caramon, and he shook his head sadly. “I know you’ll be able to help,” he murmured, then he nodded and stumped off into the night, leaning on his cane.

Help! Tanis thought wildly. We came seeking his help. Caramon snored particularly loudly, half-woke himself up, belched up great fumes of dwarf spirits, then settled back down to sleep. Tanis looked bleakly at Riverwind, then shook his head in despair.

Crysania stared down at Caramon in pity mingled with disgust. “Poor man,” she said softly. The medallion of Paladine shone in the candlelight. “Perhaps I—”

“There’s nothing you can do for him,” Tika cried bitterly. “He doesn’t need healing. He’s drunk, can’t you see that? Dead drunk!”

Crysania’s gaze turned to Tika in astonishment, but before the cleric could say anything, Tanis hurried back to Caramon. “Help me, Riverwind,” he said, bending down. “Let’s get him hom—”

“Oh, leave him!” Tika snapped, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. “He’s spent enough nights on the barroom floor. Another won’t matter.” She turned to Tanis. “I wanted to tell you. I really did. But I thought... I kept hoping... He was excited when your letter arrived. He was... well, more like himself than I’ve seen him in a long time. I thought maybe this might do it. He might change. So I let you come.” She hung her head. “I’m sorry...”

Tanis stood beside the big warrior, irresolute. “I don’t understand. How long—”

“It’s why we couldn’t come to your wedding, Tanis,” Tika said, twisting her apron into knots. “I wanted to, so much! But—” She began to cry again. Dezra put her arms around her.

“Sit down, Tika,” Dezra murmured, helping her to a seat in a high-backed, wooden booth.

Tika sank down, her legs suddenly giving out beneath her, then she hid her head in her arms.

“Let’s all sit down,” Tanis said firmly, “and get our wits about us. You there”—the half-elf beckoned to the gully dwarf, who was peering out at them from beneath the wooden bar. “Bring us a pitcher of ale and some mugs, wine for Lady Crysania, some spiced potatoes—”

Tanis paused. The confused gully dwarf was staring at him, round-eyed, his mouth hanging open in confusion.

“Better let me get it for you, Tanis,” Dezra offered, smiling. “You’d probably end up with a pitcher of potatoes if Raf went after it.”

“Me help!” Raf protested indignantly.

“You take out the garbage!” Dezra snapped.

“Me big help...” Raf mumbled disconsolately as he shuffled out, kicking at the table legs to relieve his hurt feelings.

“Your rooms are in the new part of the Inn,” Tika mumbled. “I’ll show you...”

“We’ll find them later,” Riverwind said sternly, but as he looked at Tika, his eyes were filled with gentle sympathy. “Sit and talk to Tanis. He has to leave soon.”

“Damn! My horse!” Tanis said, starting up suddenly. “I asked the boy to bring it around—”

“I will go have them wait,” Riverwind offered.

“No, I’ll go. It’ll just take a moment—”

“My friend,” Riverwind said softly as he went past him, “I need to be outdoors! I’ll come back to help with—” He nodded his head toward the snoring Caramon.

Tanis sat back down, relieved. The Plainsman left. Crysania sat down beside Tanis on the opposite side of the table, staring at Caramon in perplexity. Tanis kept talking to Tika about small, inconsequential matters until she was able to sit up and even smile a little. By the time Dezra returned with drinks, Tika seemed more relaxed, though her face was still drawn and strained. Crysania, Tanis noticed, barely touched her wine. She simply sat, glancing occasionally at Caramon, the daric line appearing once again between her brows. Tanis knew he should explain to her what was going on, but he wanted someone to explain it to him first.

“When did this—” he began, hesitantly.

“Start?” Tika sighed. “About six months after we got back here.” Her gaze went to Caramon. “He was so happy—at first. The town was a mess, Tanis. The winter had been terrible for the survivors. Most of them were starving, the draconians and goblin soldiers took everything. Those whose houses had been destroyed were living in whatever shelter they could find—caves, lean-to hovels. The draconians had abandoned the town by the time we got back, and people were beginning to rebuild. They welcomed Caramon as a hero—the bards had been here already, singing their songs about the defeat of the Queen.”

Tika’s eyes shimmered with tears and remembered pride.

“He was so happy, Tanis, for a while. People needed him. He worked day and night—cutting trees, hauling timber from the hills, putting up houses. He even took up smithy work, since Theros was gone. Oh, he wasn’t very good at it.” Tika smiled sadly. “But he was happy, and no one really minded. He made nails and horseshoes and wagon wheels. That first year was good for us—truly good. We were married, and Caramon seemed to forget about... about...”

Tika swallowed. Tanis patted her hand and, after eating a little and drinking some wine in silence, Tika was able to continue.

“A year ago last spring, though, everything started to change. Something happened to Caramon. I’m not sure what. It had something to do with—” She broke off, shook her head. “The town was prosperous. A blacksmith who had been held captive at Pax Tharkas moved here and took over the smithy trade. Oh, people still needed homes built, but there was no hurry. I took over running the Inn.” Tika shrugged. “I guess Caramon just had too much time on his hands.”

“No one needed him,” Tanis said grimly.

“Not even me...” Tika said, gulping and wiping her eyes. “Maybe it’s my fault—”

“No,” said Tanis, his thoughts—and his memories—far away. “Not your fault, Tika. I think we know whose fault this is.”

“Anyway”—Tika drew a deep breath—“I tried to help, but I was so busy here. I suggested all sorts of things he could do and he tried—he really did. He helped the local constable, tracking down renegade draconians. He was a bodyguard, for a while, hiring out to people traveling to Haven. But no one ever hired him twice.” Her voice dropped. “Then one day, last winter, the party he’d been supposed to protect returned, dragging him on a sled. He was dead drunk. They’d ended up protecting him! Since then, he’s spent all his time either sleeping, eating, or hanging out with some ex-mercenaries at the Trough, that filthy place at the other end of town.”