Margaret Weis - Dragons of the Highlord Skies

“We will return for the bodies after we have made certain the dragon orb is safe,” he said, cold, impassive.

“You go on, my lord,” said Sturm quietly. “I will remain with the fallen.”

“What for? They are not going anywhere!” Derek rasped angrily.

Flint scowled and growled deep in his throat. Laurana stared at Derek in shock.

Sturm stood quiet, unmoving.

Derek flashed them all an irate glance. “You think me callous, but I am thinking of them. Listen to that!” He gestured down a tunnel. They could all hear the unmistakable sounds of battle—clashing metal, shouts and oaths and screams—and those sounds were growing louder.

“These knights gave their lives to secure the dragon orb. Would you have their sacrifice go to waste, Brightblade? Perhaps you think we should all stay here and die with them? Or do we finish our quest and live to sing of their bravery?”

No one said a word.

Derek turned and walked off, heading back the way they had come. He did not look behind to see if the others were following.

“Derek is right,” said Sturm at last. “We should not let their sacrifice be in vain. Paladine will watch over them. Harm will not come to them until we can return to claim them and take them home.”

Sturm gave a knight’s salute to each of the fallen, then he walked after Derek.

Gilthanas retrieved what arrows he could find and went after Sturm. Flint harumphed and rubbed his nose and, grabbing hold of Tasslehoff, gave the kender a shove and told him to get a move on and quit standing there sniveling like a big baby.

Laurana lingered in the chamber with the dead. Friend. Foe. Picking up the frostreaver, stained with the wizard’s blood, she walked to her destiny.

The winter deepened on Ansalon. Yule came and went. The hunt for Kitiara continued, though it was half-hearted. Ariakas did not send his troops out after her. He did send assassins and bounty hunters, but they were ordered to conduct their search circumspectly. After a time, it seemed they forgot about her. No longer were bounty hunters handing steel coins about, asking if anyone had seen a warrior woman with black curly hair and a crooked smile.

Kitiara did not know it, but Ariakas had called off the hounds. He was starting to regret the entire incident. He realized he’d made a mistake with regard to Kit. He began to believe in her claimed innocence. He tried to place the blame for his belief that Kit had betrayed him on Iolanthe. She cleverly shifted it to the elf wizard, Feal-Thas. The elf had proven to be a vast disappointment to Ariakas, who had never expected much from Feal-Thas in the first place, for word came that the blasted elf had gotten himself killed and Ice Wall Castle had fallen.

At least the knight, Derek Crownguard, had fallen victim to Ariakas’s scheming. He had taken the dragon orb back to Solamnia, and Ariakas’s spies reported that contention over the orb had caused a rift between elves and humans and was further demoralizing the knighthood.

Ariakas wanted Kit back. He was finally ready to launch the war in Solamnia and he needed her expertise, her leadership skills, her courage. But she was nowhere to be found.

Queen Takhisis could have informed Ariakas of Kit’s whereabouts, for Her Dark Majesty was keeping a close watch on the Blue Lady. But Takhisis chose to keep Ariakas in ignorance. Ariakas might have welcomed Lord Soth’s entry into the war, but he would not be pleased to see a Soth/Kitiara alliance. Kit already had an army behind her, an army loyal to her. She commanded a wing of blue dragons, also extremely loyal to her. Add to this a powerful death knight and his forces, and Ariakas would start to feel the Crown of Power resting uneasily on his head. He might try to stop Kitiara from going to Dargaard Keep, and Takhisis could not allow this.

The bounty hunters were a nuisance to Kit, though never a danger. None recognized her in her guise as a high-ranking spiritor, and no one bothered her. She even had an enjoyable conversation with a bounty hunter, giving him a description of herself and sending him on a long and fruitless search. When she took the road leading to Nightlund, pursuit ended. None would follow her into that accursed land.

Her journey was long and wearisome, giving Kitiara plenty of time to think about her confrontation with Lord Soth. She required a plan of attack. Kit never went into any battle unprepared. She needed information about exactly what sort of enemy she faced—solid information, not legend, myth, granny stories, kender tales, or bard’s songs. Unfortunately, such information was difficult to come by. Of those who had encountered Lord Soth, none had come back to tell of it.