Маргарет Уэйс - Dragons of Spring Dawning

“We’ll see,” Tanis said, sighing. Davey was returning with the cart, drawn by a bony horse. The half-elf looked at Caramon. “Are you really certain you want to find that brother of yours?” he asked quietly.

Caramon did not answer.

The companions arrived in Kalaman about mid-morning.

“What’s going on?” Tanis asked Davey as the young man drove the cart through the city streets. “Is there a festival?”

The streets were crowded with people. Most of the shops were closed and shuttered. Everyone stood around in small clumps, talking together in excited tones.

“It looks more like a funeral,” Caramon said. “Someone important must have died.”

“That—or war,” Tanis muttered. Women were weeping, men looked sorrowful or angry, children stood about, staring fearfully at their parents.

“Can’t be war, sir,” Davey said, “and Spring Dawning festival was two days ago. Don’t know what’s the matter. Just a minute. I can find out if you want,” he said, pulling the horse to a stop.

“Go ahead,” Tanis said. “Just a minute, though. Why can’t it be war?”

“Why, we’ve won the war!” Davey said, staring at Tanis in astonishment. “By the gods, sir, you musta been drunk if you don’t remember. The Golden General and the good dragons—”

“Oh, yes,” Tanis said hastily.

“I’ll stop in here, at the fish market,” Davey said, hopping down. “They’ll know.”

“We’ll come with you.” Tanis motioned the others.

“What’s the news?” Davey called, running up to a knot of men and women standing before a shop redolent with the odor of fresh fish.

Several men turned immediately, all speaking at once. Coming up behind the boy, Tanis caught only parts of the excited conversation. “Golden General captured!... City doomed... people fleeing. . . evil dragons . . .”

Try as they might, the companions could make nothing out of this. The people seemed reluctant to talk around strangers—giving them dark, mistrustful glances, especially seeing their rich clothing.

The companions thanked Davey once more for the ride into town, then left him among his friends. After a brief discussion, they decided to head for the marketplace, hoping to find out more details of what had happened. The crowds grew denser as they walked until they practically had to fight their way through the packed streets. People ran here and there, asking for the latest rumors, shaking their heads in despair. Occasionally they saw some citizens, their belongings hastily packed in bundles, heading for the city gates.

“We should buy weapons,” Caramon said grimly. “The news doesn’t sound good. Who do you suppose this ‘Golden General’ is, anyway? The people seem to think a lot of him if his disappearance throws them into this much turmoil.”

“Probably some Knight of Solamnia,” Tanis said. “And you’re right, we should buy weapons.” He put his hand to his belt. “Damn! I had a purse of funny-looking old gold coins, but it’s gone now! As if we didn’t have enough trouble...”

“Wait a minute!” Caramon grunted, feeling his belt. “Why! What the—My purse was here a second ago!” Whirling around, the big warrior caught a glimpse of small figure disappearing among the crush of people, a worn leather pouch in its hand. “Hey! You! That’s mine!” Caramon roared. Scattering people like straws in the wind, he leaped after the small thief. Reaching out a huge hand, he caught hold of a fleecy vest and plucked the squirming figure up off the street. “Now give me back—” The big warrior gasped. “Tasslehoff!”

“Caramon!” Tasslehoff cried.

Caramon dropped him in astonishment. Tasslehoff stared around wildly. “Tanis!” he shouted, seeing the half-elf coming through the crowd. “Oh, Tanis!” Running forward, Tas threw his arms around his friend. Burying his face in Tanis’s belt, the kender burst into tears.

The people of Kalaman lined the walls of their city. Just a few days before they had done the same thing, only then their mood had been festive as they watched the triumphant procession of knights and silver and golden dragons. Now they were quiet, grim with despair. They looked out over the plain as the sun rose to its zenith in the sky. Nearly noon. They waited silently.

Tanis stood next to Flint, his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. The old dwarf had nearly broken down at the sight of his friend.

It was a sad reunion. In hushed and broken voices, Flint and Tasslehoff took turns telling their friends what had happened since they were parted in Tarsis months ago. One would talk until overcome, then the other would carry on the story. Thus the companions heard of the discovery of the dragonlances, the destruction of the dragon orb, and Sturm’s death.

Tanis bowed his head, overwhelmed with sorrow at this news. For a moment, he couldn’t imagine the world without his noble friend. Seeing Tanis’s grief, Flint’s gruff voice went on to tell of Sturm’s great victory and the peace he had found in death.

“He is a hero in Solamnia now,” Flint said. “Already they’re telling stories of him, like they do of Huma. His great sacrifice saved the Knighthood, or so it is said. He would have asked for nothing more, Tanis.”

The half-elf nodded wordlessly. Then, trying to smile, “Go on,” he said. “Tell me what Laurana did when she arrived in Palanthas. And is she still there? If so, we were thinking about going—”

Flint and Tas exchanged glances. The dwarf’s head bowed. The kender looked away, snuffling and wiping his small nose with a handkerchief.

“What is it?” Tanis asked in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own. Tell me.”

Slowly, Flint related the story. “I’m sorry, Tanis,” the dwarf said, wheezing. “I let her down—”

The old dwarf began to sob so pitifully that Tanis’s heart ached with sorrow. Gasping his friend in his arms, he held him tightly.

“It wasn’t your fault, Flint,” he said, his voice harsh with tears. “It’s mine, if anyone’s. It was for me she risked death and worse.”

“Start placing blame and you will end cursing the gods,” said Riverwind, laying his hand on Tanis’s shoulder. “Thus do my people say.”

Tanis was not comforted. “What time is the—the Dark Lady to come?”

“Noon,” said Tas softly.

Now it was nearly noon and Tanis stood with the rest of the citizens of Kalaman, waiting for the arrival of the Dark Lady. Gilthanas stood some distance from Tanis, pointedly ignoring him. The half-elf couldn’t blame him. Gilthanas knew why Laurana had left, he knew what bait Kitiara had used to snare his sister. When he asked Tanis coldly if it was true that he had been with the Dragon Highlord, Kitiara, Tanis could not deny it.

“Then I hold you responsible for whatever happens to Laurana,” Gilthanas said, his voice shaking in rage. “And I will pray to the gods nightly that whatever cruel fate befalls her, you will meet the same thing—only a hundred times worse!”

“Don’t you think I’d accept that if it would bring her back!” Tanis cried in anguish. But Gilthanas only turned away.

Now the people began to point and murmur. A dark shadow was visible in the sky—a blue dragon.

That’s her dragon,” Tasslehoff said solemnly. “I saw it at the High Clerist’s Tower.”

The blue dragon circled lazily above the city in slow spirals, then landed leisurely within bow-shot of the city walls. A deathly hush fell upon the city as the dragon’s rider stood up in the stirrups. Removing her helm, the Dark Lady began to speak, her voice ringing through the clear air.

“By now you have heard that I have captured the elf woman you call the ‘Golden General!’ ” Kitiara shouted. “In case you need proof, I have this to show you.” She raised her hand. Tanis saw the flash of sunlight on a beautifully crafted silver helm. “In my other hand, though you cannot see it from where you stand, I have a lock of golden hair. I will leave both these here, on the plain, when I depart, that you may have something to remember your ‘general’ by.”