Margaret Weis - Dragons of The Dwarven Depths

Negotiating his way around an outcropping of rock, trying to keep his footing, Caramon nearly ran headlong into Tika.

“Caramon!” she said, pleased.

“Tika!” exclaimed Caramon, alarmed.

He felt like the warrior in the adage who had avoided the kobolds only to fall victim to goblins. He’d managed to evade Sturm’s questioning, but if there was one person in this world who could wrap him around her red curls and wheedle whatever she wanted out of him, it was Tika Waylan.

“What are you doing out in the night?” she asked.

Caramon held up the water skin. “Fetching water.”

He shuffled his big feet a moment then said abruptly, “I’ve got to go now!” and started to walk off.

“I’m going to the stream myself,” said Tika, catching up with him. “I’m afraid of getting lost in the snow.” She slid her hand through his arm. “I’m not afraid when I’m with you, though.” Caramon quivered from head to toe. He had once thought Tika Waylan the ugliest little girl he’d ever seen and the greatest nuisance ever born. He’d gone away for five years, doing mercenary work with his twin, and come back to find Tika the most attractive, wonderful woman he’d ever known, and he’d known quite a few.

Big, handsome, and brawny, with a cheerful smile and good-hearted nature, Caramon had never lacked female companionship. Girls liked him and he liked them. He’d indulged in numerous dalliances with countless women, spent more time snuggling in barn lofts and behind hay mounds than he could count. No woman had ever touched his heart, however. Not until Tika. And she hadn’t really touched his heart—his heart had jumped out of his chest to land plop at her feet.

He wanted to be a better person for her. He wanted to be smarter, braver, yet every time he was with her, he went all addled and befuddled, especially when she pressed her body up close against his, like she was now. Caramon recalled a talk he’d had with Goldmoon. The older woman had warned him that although Tika talked and acted like a worldly woman, she was, in truth, young and innocent. Caramon must not take advantage of her or he would hurt her deeply. Caramon was determined to keep himself under strict control, but this was very hard when Tika looked at him as she was looking at him now, with snow sparkling on her red curls and her cheeks rosy with the cold and her green eyes shining.

Caramon suddenly began to suspect that she not had been out here to go the stream. She had no bucket and she certainly wasn’t going to bathe. She was going to the stream because she wanted to be with him, and while this warmed him like spiced wine, the knowledge only added to his confusion.

They walked together in silence. Tika kept glancing at him, waiting for him to speak. He couldn’t think of anything to say, and then, of course, she said the worst thing possible.

“I hear your brother wanted to go off to some terrible fortress called Skullcap, but Tanis wouldn’t let him.” Tika shivered and pressed even closer to him. “I’m glad you’re not going.” Caramon mumbled something unintelligible and kept walking. His face burned. He probably had guilt written on his forehead in letters so large a gully dwarf could read them. He saw her glance at the water skin and saw her green eyes narrow. Caramon groaned inwardly.

Tika dropped his arm. She stepped back away from him to smite him with the full force of her red-haired fury.

“You’re going, aren’t you?!” she cried. “You’re going to that dreadful place that everyone knows is haunted!”

Caramon made a feeble protest. “It’s not haunted.”

He realized a split second later that he should have denied going at all, but he couldn’t think around her.

“Ah ha! You admit it! Flint says Skullcap’s haunted!” Tika returned. “He should know. He was born and raised around these parts. Does Tanis know you’re leaving?” She answered her own question. “Of course not. So you were going to go off and get yourself killed and never even say goodbye to me!”

Caramon had no idea where to begin to refute all these charges Finally, he said lamely, “I’m not going to get myself killed. Raist says—”

“Raist says!” Tika mimicked him. “Why is Raistlin going? Because it has something to do with that wizard, Fistanpoopus or whatever his name is. The one you told me about. The evil wizard who wore the Black Robes and whose wicked book Raistlin is carrying around with him. Laurana told me what Flint said about Skullcap. Only she didn’t know what I know and what you know—that Raistlin has some sort of strange connection to this dead wizard.”

“You didn’t tell her, did you?” Caramon asked fearfully. “You didn’t tell anyone?”

“No, I didn’t, but maybe I should.”

Tika faced him, head flung back, green eyes flaring. “If you love me, Caramon, you won’t go. You’ll tell that brother of yours that he can find someone else to risk his life for him and do his fetching and carrying and make his stupid tea!”

“I do love you, Tika,” said Caramon desperately, “but Raist is my brother. We’re all each of us has, and he says this is important. That the lives of all these people depend on it.”

“And you believe him!” Tika scoffed.

“Yes,” said Caramon with simple dignity. “I do.”

Tika’s eyes overflowed with tears, which spilled down her freckled cheeks. “I hope a ghost sucks your blood dry!” she sobbed angrily, and ran off.

“Tika!” Caramon called, heart-sick.

She did not look back but kept running, slipping and stumbling over the snow-slick rocks. Caramon wanted desperately to go after her, but he didn’t. For what could he say? He could not give her what she wanted. He could not give up his brother for her, no matter how much he adored her. Raistlin must always come first. Tika was strong. Raistlin was weak, fragile, feeble.

“He needs me,” Caramon said to himself. “He relies on me and depends on me. If I wasn’t there for him, he might die, just like when he was little. She doesn’t understand.” He continued heading for the stream in order to fill the water skin, even though now they wouldn’t be going. Tika would go straight to Tanis, then Tanis would go to Raistlin and forbid him to leave, and Raistlin would know Caramon had spilled the beans. If Caramon dawdled, perhaps his brother’s fury would have cooled by the time he got back.

Caramon doubted it, but there was always that chance.

Caramon paused outside the cave to steel himself, then shoved aside the screen and went in.

“Raist, I’m sorry…” He halted. His twin was sound asleep, wrapped in his blanket, his hand resting on the staff that never left his side. The pack containing his spellbooks was by the entrance. Caramon’s pack was there, as well. All in readiness for an early departure. A wave of relief flooded through Caramon. Tika hadn’t told Tanis! Perhaps she did understand, after all! Moving as quietly as he could, Caramon deposited the full water skin on the floor, then stripped off his shirt, lay down, and his conscience clear, was almost immediately asleep.

His brother’s hand shaking him by the shoulder woke him. “Keep quiet!” Raistlin whispered.

“Make haste! I want to be away before anyone is stirring!”

“What about breakfast?” Caramon asked. Raistlin flashed him a disgusted glance.

“Well, I’m hungry,” Caramon said.

“We will eat on the road,” Raistlin returned.

Caramon sighed. Hefting the two packs and the water skin, he followed his brother out of the cave. The sky was black and glittering with stars. The air was cold and sharp, prickling the inside of the lungs. The snow had stopped during the night after dusting the ground. Clouds were massing over the mountains, however. There would be more snow before the day was out. Solinari, the silver moon, was a curved blade in the sky. Lunitari, the red moon, and Raistlin’s patron goddess of magic, was three-quarters full. Her red light cast eerie shadows on the snow. Raistlin looked up at the red moon and smiled.