Margaret Weis - Dragons of The Dwarven Depths

“We could shelter in this valley though the winter months,” Tanis said, doing his thinking aloud. He slipped and slid down the bank until he came to the edge of the deep, swift-flowing water.

“What harm would there be in that?” he asked his reflection.

The face that looked up at him grinned in answer. He had elven blood in him, but one would never know by looking. Laurana accused him of hiding it. Well, maybe he did. It made life easier. Tanis scratched at the beard that no elf could grow. Long hair covered his slightly pointed ears. His body did not have the slender delicacy of the elven form but the bulk of humans. Stripping off his leather tunic, breeches, and boots, Tanis waded into the stream, dispersing his reflection in ripples, gasping at the shock of the cold water. He splashed water onto his chest and neck. Then, holding his breath, he braved himself for a plunge. He came up huffing and blowing water from his nose and mouth, grinning widely at the tingling sensation that spread throughout his body. Already he felt better.

After all, why shouldn’t they stay here?

“The mountains protect us from the chill winds. We have food enough to see us through the winter, if we are careful.” Tanis splashed water into the air, like a kid at play. “We are safe from our enemies—”

“For how long?”

Tanis had thought himself alone, and he nearly leaped out of the water in shock at hearing another voice.

“Riverwind!” Tanis exclaimed, turning around and spotting the tall man standing on the bank.

“You scared me out of six years of my life!”

“Since you are half elven with a life-span of several hundred years, six of those years is not much to worry about,” Riverwind remarked.

Tanis looked searchingly at the Plainsman. Riverwind had never met or even seen anyone of elven blood until he had encountered Tanis, and though Tanis was half elf and half human, Riverwind found him wholly alien. There had been occasions between the two when such a remark about Tanis’s race would have been meant as an insult.

Tanis saw a smile warm in the Plainsman’s brown eyes, however, and he smiled in return. He and Riverwind had gone through too much together for the old prejudices to remain. The fire of dragons had burned up mistrust and hatred. Tears of joy and of sorrow had washed away the ashes.

Tanis climbed out of the water. He used his leather tunic to dry himself then sat down beside Riverwind, shivering in the cold air. The sun, beaming through a gap in the mountains, burned away the mist and soon warmed him.

Tanis eyed Riverwind in concern that was half-mocking and half-serious. “What is the bridegroom doing up so early on his wedding morn? I did not expect to see you or Goldmoon for several days.”

Riverwind gazed out over the water. The sun shone full on his face. The Plainsman was a man who kept himself to himself. His innermost feelings and thoughts were his alone, personal and private, not to be shared with anyone. His dark visage was normally set in an expressionless mask, and so it was today, but Tanis could see radiance shining from beneath.

“My joy was too great to be contained within rock walls,” said Riverwind softly. “I had to come outside to share it with the earth and the wind, the water and the sun. Even now, the wide, vast world feels too small to hold it.”

Tanis had to look away. He was glad for Riverwind, also envious, and he didn’t want the envy to show. Tanis found himself longing for such love and joy himself. The irony was that he could have it. All he had to do was banish the memory of curly dark hair, flashing dark eyes, and a charming, crooked smile.

As if reading his thoughts, Riverwind said, “I wish the same for you, my friend. Perhaps you and Laurana…”

His voice trailed off.

Tanis shook his head and changed the subject.

“We have that meeting today with Elistan and the Seekers. I want you and your people to attend. We have to decide what to do, whether we stay here or leave.”

Riverwind nodded but said nothing.

“I know this is bad timing,” Tanis added ruefully. “If ever there was a joy-killer, it’s Hederick the High Theocrat, but we have to make a decision quickly, before the snows come.”

“From what you were saying, you have already decided we should stay,” said Riverwind. “Is that wise? We are still very close to Pax Tharkas and the dragonarmies.”

“True,” said Tanis, “but the pass between here and Pax Tharkas is blocked by rocks and snow. The dragonarmy has better things to do than chase after us. They’re conquering nations. We’re a ragtag bunch of former slaves—”

“—who escaped them, giving them a black eye.” Riverwind turned his penetrating gaze full on Tanis. “The enemy must come after us. If the people they conquer hear that others threw off their manacles and walked free, they will begin to believe they can also overthrow their masters. The armies of the Dark Queen will come after us. Maybe not soon, but they will come.” Tanis knew he was right. He knew Raistlin and his analogy about the carrot was right. Staying here was dangerous. Every day that passed could be bringing their enemies closer. He didn’t want to admit it. Tanis Half-Elven had traveled the world for five years, searching for himself. He thought he’d found himself, only to discover on his return that he wasn’t who he’d thought he was.

He would have liked to have spent some time—even just a little while—in a quiet place he could call home, a place where he could think, figure out some things. A cave shared with an irascible old dwarf and a pilfering and sometimes highly annoying kender wasn’t Tanis’s ideal home, but—compared to the road—it seemed very attractive.

“That is good reasoning, my friend, but Hederick will say that it is not the true reason you want to leave,” Tanis pointed out. “You and your people want to go back to your homeland. You want to return to the Plains of Dust.”

“We want to reclaim what is ours,” said Riverwind, “what was taken from us.”

“There is nothing left,” said Tanis gently, thinking of the burned-out village of Que-shu.

“ We are left,” said Riverwind.

Tanis shivered. The sun had ducked behind a cloud, and he was chilled. He had long feared that this was Riverwind’s intent.

“So you and your people plan to strike out on your own.”

“We have not yet decided,” said Riverwind, “but that is the direction our thinking is tending.”

“Look, Riverwind,” said Tanis. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but your Plainsmen have been an immense help to us. These people are not accustomed to living like this. Before they were slaves, they were shopkeepers and merchants, farmers and cobblers. They came from cities like Haven and Solace and a host of other towns and villages around Abanasinia. They’ve never had to live off the land. They don’t know how.”

“And for centuries, these city-dwellers have looked down on us,” said Riverwind. “They call us barbarians, savages.”

And you call me a half-elf, Tanis thought, but did not say aloud. Instead he said, “When we were all of us prisoners, you put all the old hatreds and misunderstandings aside. We worked together to help each other escape. Why dredge that up now?”

“Because others brought it up first,” Riverwind said harshly.

“Hederick,” said Tanis, sighing. “The man’s an ass, plain and simple. You know that; although, it’s because he’s an ass that we met you and Goldmoon.”

Riverwind smiled at the memory. “True,” he said, his voice softening. “I have not forgotten.”

“Hederick falls into the fire. Goldmoon’s blue crystal staff heals him, and all he can do is yell that she is a witch, and he sticks his hand back into the fire, then he runs off and calls the guards. That’s the sort of lunk-head he is. You can’t pay any attention to what he says.”