Margaret Weis - Time of the Twins

It was obvious Bupu didn’t believe him. Tas didn’t believe himself.

“Look,” he said, “just wait for me here. It won’t be much farther. I know—I’ll bring you something to eat. Promise you won’t leave?”

Bupu smacked her lips, eyeing Tas dubiously. “Me wait,” she said, plopping down into the muddy road. “At least till after lunch.”

Tas, his pointed chin jutting out firmly, followed Caramon into the tavern. He and Caramon were going to have a little talk—

As it turned out, however, that wasn’t necessary.

“Your health, gentlemen,” Caramon said, raising a glass to the slovenly crowd gathered in the bar. There weren’t many—a couple of traveling dwarves, who sat near the door, and a party of humans, dressed like rangers, who lifted their mugs in return to Caramon’s salute.

Tas sat down next to Caramon, so depressed that he actually returned a purse his hands had (without his knowing it) removed from the belt of one of the dwarves as he passed.

“I think you dropped this,” Tas mumbled, handing it back to the dwarf, who stared at him in amazement.

“We’re looking for a young woman,” Caramon said, settling down for the afternoon. He recited her description as he had recited it in every tavern from Solace on. “Black hair, small, delicate, pale face, white robes. She’s a cleric—”

“Yeah, we’ve seen her,” said one of the rangers.

Beer spurted from Caramon’s mouth. “You have?” he managed to gasp, choking.

Tas perked up. “Where?” he asked eagerly.

“Wandering about the woods east of here,” said the ranger, jerking his thumb.

“Yeah?” Caramon said suspiciously. “What’re you doing out in the woods yourselves?”

“Chasing goblins. There’s a bounty for them in Haven.”

“Three gold pieces for goblin ears,” said his friend, with a toothless grin, “if you care to try your luck.”

“What about the woman?” Tas pursued.

“She’s a crazy one, I guess.” The ranger shook his head. “We told her the land out around here was crawling with goblins and she shouldn’t be out alone. She just said she was in the hands of Paladine, or some such name, and he would take care of her.”

Caramon heaved a sigh and lifted his drink to his lips. “That sounds like her all right—”

Leaping up, Tas snatched the glass from the big man’s hand.

“What the—” Caramon glared at him angrily.

“Come on!” Tas said, tugging at him. “We’ve got to go! Thanks for the help,” he panted, dragging Caramon to the door. “Where did you say you saw her?”

“About ten miles east of here. You’ll find a trail out back, behind the tavern. Branches off the main road. Follow it and it’ll take you through the forest. Used to be a short cut to Gateway, before it got too dangerous to travel.”

“Thanks again!” Tas pushed Caramon, still protesting, out the door.

“Confound it, what’s the hurry,” Caramon snarled angrily, jerking away from Tas’s prodding hands. “We coulda at least had dinner...”

“Caramon!” said Tas urgently, dancing up and down.

“Think! Remember! Don’t you realize where she is, Ten miles east of here! Look—”Yanking open one of his pouches, Tas pulled out a whole sheaf of maps. Hurriedly, he sorted through them, tossing them onto the ground in his haste. “Look,” he repeated finally, unrolling one and thrusting it into Caramon’s flushed face.

The big man peered at it, trying to bring it into focus.

“Huh,”

“Oh, for—Look, here’s where we are, near as I can figure.

And here’s Haven, still south of us. Across here is Gateway.

Here’s the path they were talking about and here—” Tas’s finger pointed.

Caramon squinted. “Dark—dar—dar Darken Wood,” he mumbled. “Darken Wood. That seems familiar...”

“Of course it seems familiar! We nearly died there!” Tas yelled, waving his arms. “It took Raistlin to save us—”

Seeing Caramon scowl, Tas hurried on. “What if she should wander in there alone,” he asked pleadingly.

Caramon looked out into the forest, his bleary eyes peering at the narrow, overgrown trail. His scowl deepened. “I suppose you expect me to stop her,” he grumbled.

“Well, naturally we’ll have to stop her!” Tas began, then came to a sudden halt. “You never meant to,” the kender said softly, staring at Caramon. “All along, you never meant to go after her. You were just going to stumble around here for a few days, have a few drinks, a few laughs, then go back to Tika, tell her you’re a miserable failure, figuring she’d take you back, same as usual—”

“So what did you expect me to do?” Caramon growled, turning away from Tas’s reproachful gaze. “How can I help this woman find the Tower of High Sorcery, Tas?” He began to whimper. “I don’t want to find it! I swore I’d never go near that foul place again! They destroyed him there, Tas. When he came out, his skin was that strange gold color. They gave him those cursed eyes so that all he sees is death. They shattered his body.

He couldn’t take a breath without coughing. And they made him... they made him kill me!” Caramon choked and buried his face in his hands, sobbing in pain, trembling in terror.

“He—he didn’t kill you, Caramon,” Tas said, feeling completely helpless. “Tanis told me. It was just an image of you. And he was sick and scared and hurting real bad inside. He didn’t know what he was doing—”

But Caramon only shook his head. And the tender-hearted kender couldn’t blame him. No wonder he doesn’t want to go back there, Tas thought remorsefully. Perhaps I should take him home. He certainly isn’t much good to anyone in this state.

But then Tas remembered Lady Crysania, out there all alone, blundering into Darken Wood...

“I talked to a spirit there once,” Tas murmured, “but I’m not certain they’d remember me. And there’re goblins out there.

And, while I’m not afraid of them, I don’t suppose I’d be much good fighting off more than three or four.”

Tasslehoff was at a loss. If only Tanis were here! The half-elf always knew what to say, what to do. He’d make Caramon listen to reason. But Tanis isn’t here, said a stern voice inside of the kender that sounded at times suspiciously like Flint. It’s up to you, you doorknob!

I don’t want it to be up to me! Tas wailed, then waited for a moment to see if the voice answered. It didn’t. He was alone.

“Caramon,” Tas said, making his voice as deep as possible and trying very hard to sound like Tanis, “look, just come with us as far as the edges of the Forest of Wayreth. Then you can go home. We’ll probably be safe after that—”

But Caramon wasn’t listening. Awash in liquor and self-pity, he collapsed onto the ground. Leaning back against a tree, he babbled incoherently about nameless horrors, begging Tika to take him back.

Bupu stood up and came to stand in front of the big warrior. “Me go,” she said in disgust. “Me want fat, slobbering drunk, me find plenty back home.” Nodding her head, she started off down the path. Tas ran after her, caught her, and dragged her back.

“No, Bupu! You can’t! We’re almost there!”

Suddenly Tasslehoff’s patience ran out. Tanis wasn’t here. No one was here to help. It was just like the time when he’d broken the dragon orb. Maybe what he was doing wasn’t the right thing, but it was the only thing he could think of to do.

Tas walked up and kicked Caramon in the shins.

“Ouch!” Caramon gulped. Startled, he stared at Tas, a hurt and puzzled look on his face. “What’dya do that for?”

In answer, Tas kicked him again, hard. Groaning, Caramon grabbed his leg.