"I understand," Tanis said, touched by Riverwind's obvious unhappiness in having to refuse his request for help. The halfelf caught Lady Crysania's displeased stare, however, and he turned to her with grim politeness. "All will be well, Revered Daughter," he said, speaking with elaborate patience. "Caramon will guide you, and he is worth three of us ordinary mortals, right, Riverwind?"
The Plainsman smiled, old memories returning. "He can eat as much as three ordinary mortals, certainly. And he is as strong as three or more. Do you remember, Tanis, when he used to lift stout Pig-faced William off his feet, when we put on that show in . . . where was it . . . Flotsam?"
"And the time he killed those two draconians by bashing their heads together." Tanis laughed, feeling the darkness of the world suddenly lift in sharing those times with his friend. "And do you remember when we were in the dwarven kingdom and Caramon sneaked up behind Flint and—” Leaning forward, Tanis whispered in Riverwind'sear. The Plainsman’s face flushed with laughter. He recounted another tale, and the two men continued, recalling stories of Caramon's strength, his skill with a sword, his courage and honor.
"And his gentleness," Tanis added, after a moment's quiet reflection. "I can see him now, tending to Raistlin so patiently, holding his brother in his arms when those coughing fit nearly tore the mage apart—”
He was interrupted by a smothered cry, a crash, and a thud. Turning in astonishment, Tanis saw Tika staring at him, her face white, her green eyes glimmering with tears.
"Leave now!" she pleaded through pale lips. "Please, Tanis! Don't ask any questions! Just go!" She grabbed his arm, her nails digging painfully into his flesh.
"Look, what in the name of the Abyss is going on, Tika?" Tanis asked in exasperation, standing up and facing her.
A splintering crash came in answer. The door to the Inn burst open, hit from outside by some tremendous force. Tika jumped back, her face convulsed in such fear and horror as she looked at the door that Tanis turned swiftly, his hand on his sword, and Riverwind rose to his feet.
A large shadow filled the doorway, seeming to spread a pall over the room. The crowd's cheerful noise and laughter ceased abruptly, changing to low, angry mutterings.
Remembering the dark and evil things that had been chasing them, Tanis drew his sword, placing himself between the darkness and Lady Crysania. He sensed, though he did not see, Riverwind's stalwart presence behind him, backing him up.
So, it's caught up with us, Tanis thought, almost welcoming the chance to fight this vague, unknown terror. Grimly he stared at the door, watching as a bloated, grotesque figure entered into the light.
It was a man, Tanis saw, a huge man, but, as he looked more closely, he saw it was a man whose giant girth had run to flab. A bulging belly hung over cinched up leather leggings. A filthy shirt gaped open at the navel, there being too little shirt to cover too much flesh. The man's face—partially obscured by a three-day growth of beard—was unnaturally flushed and splotchy, his hair greasy and unkempt. His clothes, while fine and well-made, were dirty and smelled strongly of vomit and the raw liquor known as dwarf spirits.
Tanis lowered his sword, feeling like a fool. It was just some poor drunken wretch, probably the town bully, using his great size to intimidate the citizenry. He looked at the man with pity and disgust, thinking, even as he did so, that there was something oddly familiar about him. Probably someone he had known when he lived in Solace long ago, some poor slob who had fallen on hard times.
The half-elf started to turn away, then noticed—to his amazement—that everyone in the Inn was looking at him expectantly.
What do they want me to do, Tanis thought in sudden, swift anger. Attack him? Some hero I'd look—beating up the town drunk!
Then he heard a sob at his elbow. "I told you to leave," Tika moaned, sinking down into a chair. Burying her face in her hands, she began to cry as if her heart would break.
Growing more and more mystified, Tanis glanced at Riverwind, but the Plainsman was obviously as much in the dark as his friend. The drunk, meanwhile, staggered into the room and gazed about in anger.
"Wash ish thish? A party?" he growled. "And nobody in-ininvited their old . . . in-vited me?"
No one answered. They were fixedly ignoring the slovenly man, their eyes still on Tanis, and now even the drunk's attention turned to the half-elf. Attempting to bring him into focus, the drunk stared at Tanis in a kind of puzzled anger, as though blaming him for being the cause of all his troubles. Then, suddenly, the drunk's eyes widened, his face split into a foolish grin, and he lurched forward, hands outstretched.
"Tanish . . . my fri-"
"Name of the gods," Tanis breathed, recognizing him at last.
The man staggered forward and stumbled over a chair. For a moment he stood swaying unsteadily, like a tree that has been cut and is ready to fall. His eyes rolled back in his head, people scrambled to get out of his way. Then—with a thud that shook the Inn—Caramon Majere, Hero of the Lance, passed out cold at Tanis's feet.
"Tanis—” Riverwand's voice caused the half-elf to glance up quickly. The Plainsman held Tika in his arms, both he and Dezra trying to comfort the distraught young woman. But people were pressing close, trying to question Riverwind or asking Crysania for a blessing. Others were demanding more ale or just standing around, gawking.
Tanis rose swiftly to his feet. "The Inn is closed for the night," he shouted.
There were jeers from the crowd, except for some scattered applause near the back where several customers thought he was buying a round of drinks.
"No, I mean it," Tanis said firmly, his voice carrying over the noise. The crowd quieted. "Thank you all for this welcome. I cannot tell you what it means to me to come back to my homeland. But, my friends and I would like to be alone now. Please, it is late . . .."
There were murmurs of sympathy and some good-natured clapping. Only a few scowled and muttered comments about the greater the knight the more his own armor glares in his eyes (an old saying from the days when the Solamnic Knights were held in derision). Riverwind, leaving Dezra to take care of Tika, came forward to prod those few stragglers who assumed Tanis meant everyone except them. The half-elf stood guard over Caramon, who was snoring blissfully on the floor, keeping people from stepping on the big man. He exchanged glances with Riverwind as the Plainsman passed, but neither had time to speak until the Inn was emptied.
Otik Sandeth stood by the door, thanking everyone for coming and assuring each that the Inn would be open again tomorrow night. When everyone else had gone, Tanis stepped up to the retired proprietor, feeling awkward and embarrassed. But Otik stopped him before he could speak.
Gripping Tanis's hand in his, the elderly man whispered, "I'm glad you've come back. Lock up when you're finished." He glanced at Tika, then motioned the half-elf forward conspiratorially. "Tanis," he said in a whisper, "if you happen to see Tika take a little out of the money box, pay it no mind. She'll pay it back someday. I just pretend not to notice." His gaze went to Caramon, and he shook his head sadly. "I know you'll be able to help," he murmured, then he nodded and stumped off into the night, leaning on his cane.
Help! Tanis thought wildly. We came seeking his help. Caramon snored particularly loudly, half-woke himself up, belched up great fumes of dwarf spirits, then settled back down to sleep. Tanis looked bleakly at Riverwind, then shook his head in despair.
Crysania stared down at Caramon in pity mingled with disgust. "Poor man," she said softly. The medallion of Paladine shone in the candlelight. "Perhaps I—”
"There's nothing you can do for him," Tika cried bitterly. "He doesn't need healing. He's drunk, can't you see that? Dead drunk!"
Crysania's gaze turned to Tika in astonishment, but before the cleric could say anything, Tanis hurried back to Caramon. "Help me, Riverwind," he said, bending down. "Let's get him hom—”
"Oh, leave him!" Tika snapped, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. "He's spent enough nights on the barroom floor. Another won't matter." She turned to Tanis. "I wanted to tell you. I really did. But I thought . . . I kept hoping . . . He was excited when your letter arrived. He was . . . well, more like himself than I've seen him in a long time. I thought maybe this might do it. He might change. So I let you come." She hung her head. "I'm sorry . . .."
Tanis stood beside the big warrior, irresolute. "I don't understand. How long—”
"It's why we couldn't come to your wedding, Tanis," Tika said, twisting her apron into knots. "I wanted to, so much! But—” She began to cry again. Dezra put her arms around her.
"Sit down, Tika," Dezra murmured, helping her to a seat in a high-backed, wooden booth.
Tika sank down, her legs suddenly giving out beneath her, then she hid her head in her arms.
"Let's all sit down," Tanis said firmly, "and get our wits about us. You there"—the half-elf beckoned to the gully dwarf, who was peering out at them from beneath the wooden bar. "Bring us a pitcher of ale and some mugs, wine for Lady Crysania, some spiced potatoes—”
Tanis paused. The confused gully dwarf was staring at him, round-eyed, his mouth hanging open in confusion.
"Better let me get it for you, Tanis," Dezra offered, smiling. "You'd probably end up with a pitcher of potatoes if Raf went after it."
"Me help!" Raf protested indignantly.
"You take out the garbage!" Dezra snapped.
"Me big help . . .." Raf mumbled disconsolately as he shuffled out, kicking at the table legs to relieve his hurt feelings.
"Your rooms are in the new part of the Inn," Tika mumbled. "I'll show you . . .."
"We'll find them later," Riverwind said sternly, but as he looked at Tika, his eyes were filled with gentle sympathy. "Sit and talk to Tanis. He has to leave soon."
"Damn! My horse!" Tanis said, starting up suddenly. "I asked the boy to bring it around-"
"I will go have them wait," Riverwind offered.
"No, I'll go. It'll just take a moment—”
"My friend," Riverwind said softly as he went past him, "I need to be outdoors! I'll come back to help with—” He nodded his head toward the snoring Caramon.
Tanis sat back down, relieved. The Plainsman left. Crysania sat down beside Tanis on the opposite side of the table, staring at Caramon in perplexity. Tanis kept talking to Tika about small, inconsequential matters until she was able to sit up and even smile a little. By the time Dezra returned with drinks, Tika seemed more relaxed, though her face was still drawn and strained. Crysania, Tanis noticed, barely touched her wine. She simply sat, glancing occasionally at Caramon, the dark line appearing once again between her brows. Tanis knew he should explain to her what was going on, but he wanted someone to explain it to him first.
"When did this—” he began, hesitantly.
"Start?" Tika sighed. "About six months after we got back here." Her gaze went to Caramon. "He was so happy—at first. The town was a mess, Tanis. The winter had been terrible for the survivors. Most of them were starving, the draconians and goblin soldiers took everything. Those whose houses had been destroyed were living in whatever shelter they could find— caves, lean-to hovels. The draconians had abandoned the town by the time we got back, and people were beginning to rebuild. They welcomed Caramon as a hero—the bards had been here already, singing their songs about the defeat of the Queen."
Tika's eyes shimmered with tears and remembered pride.
"He was so happy, Tanis, for a while. People needed him. He worked day and night—cutting trees, hauling timber from the hills, putting up houses. He even took up smithy work, since Theros was gone. Oh, he wasn't very good at it." Tika smiled sadly. "But he was happy, and no one really minded. He made nails and horseshoes and wagon wheels. That first year was good for us—truly good. We were married, and Caramon seemed to forget about . . . about . . ."
Tika swallowed. Tanis patted her hand and, after eating a little and.drinking some wine in silence, Tika was able to continue.
"A year ago last spring, though, everything started to change. Something happened to Caramon. I'm not sure what. It had something to do with—” She broke off, shook her head. "The town was prosperous. A blacksmith who had been held captive at Pax Tharkas moved here and took over the smithy trade. Oh, people still needed homes built, but there was no hurry. I took over running the Inn." Tika shrugged. "I guess Caramon just had too much time on his hands."
"No one needed him," Tanis said grimly.
"Not even me . . .." Tika said, gulping and wiping her eyes. "Maybe it's my fault—”
"No," said Tanis, his thoughts—and his memories—far away. "Not your fault, Tika. I think we know whose fault this is."
"Anyway"—Tika drew a deep breath—"I tried to help, but I was so busy here. I suggested all sorts of things he could do and he tried—he really did. He helped the local constable, tracking down renegade draconians. He was a bodyguard, for a while, hiring out to people traveling to Haven. But no one ever hired him twice." Her voice dropped. "Then one day, last winter, the party he'd been supposed to protect returned, dragging him on a sled. He was dead drunk. They'd ended up protecting him! Since then, he's spent all his time either sleeping, eating, or hanging out with some ex-mercenaries at the Trough, that filthy place at the other end of town."
Wishing Laurana were here to discuss such matters, Tanis suggested softly, "Maybe a—um—baby?"
"I was pregnant, last summer," Tika said dully, leaning her head on her hand. "But not for long. I miscarried. Caramon never even knew. Since then"—she stared down at the wooden table—"well, we haven't been sleeping in the same room."
Flushing in embarrassment, Tanis could do nothing more than pat her hand and hurriedly change the subject. "You said a moment before 'it had something to do with—' . . . with what?"
Tika shivered, then took another drink of wine. "Rumors started, then, Tanis," she said in a low, hushed voice. "Dark rumors. You can guess who they were about!"
Tanis nodded.
"Caramon wrote to him, Tanis. I saw the letter. It was—it tore my heart. Not a word of blame or reproach. It was filled with love. He begged his brother to come back and live with us. He pleaded with him to turn his back on the darkness."
"And what happened?" Tanis asked, though he already guessed the answer.
"It came back," Tika whispered. "Unopened. The seal wasn't even broken. And on the outside was written, 'I have no brother. I know no one named Caramon.' And it was signed, Raistlin!"
"Raistlin!" Crysania looked at Tika, as if seeing her for the first time. Her gray eyes were wide and startled as they went from the red-haired young woman to Tanis, then to the huge warrior on the floor, who belched comfortably in his drunken sleep. "Caramon . . . This is Caramon Majere? This is his brother? The twin you were telling me about? The man who could guide me—”
"I'm sorry, Revered Daughter," Tanis said, flushing. "I had no idea he—”
"But Raistlin is so . . . intelligent, powerful. I thought his twin must be the same. Raistlin is sensitive, he exerts such strong control over himself and those who serve him. He is a perfectionist, while this"—Crysania gestured—"this pathetic wretch, while he deserves our pity and our prayers, is—”
"Your 'sensitive and intelligent perfectionist' had a hand in making this man the 'pathetic wretch' you see, Revered Daugh ter," Tanis said acidly, keeping his anger carefully under control.
"Perhaps it was the other way around," Crysania said, regarding Tanis coldly. "Perhaps it was for lack of love that Raistlin turned from the light to walk in darkness."
Tika looked up at Crysania, an odd expression in her eyes. "Lack of love?" she repeated gently.
Caramon moaned in his sleep and began thrashing about on the floor. Tika rose quickly to her feet.
"We better get him home." She glanced up to see Riverwind's tall figure appear in the doorway, then turned to Tanis. "I'll see you in the morning, won't I? Couldn't you stay . . . just overnight?"
Tanis looked at her pleading eyes and felt like biting off his tongue before he answered. But there was no help for it. "I'm sorry, Tika," he said, taking her hands. "I wish I could, but I must go. It is a long ride to Qualinost from here, and I dare not be late. The fate of two kingdoms, perhaps, depends on my being there."
"I understand," Tika said softly. "This isn't your problem anyway. I'll cope."
Tanis could have torn out his beard with frustration. He longed to stay and help, if he even could help. At least he might talk with Caramon, try to get some sense into that thick skull. But Porthios would take it as a personal affront if Tanis did not come to the funeral, which would affect not only his personal relationships with Laurana's brother, but would affect the treaty of alliance being negotiated between Qualinesti and Solamnia.
And then, his eyes going to Crysania, Tanis realized he had another problem. He groaned inwardly. He couldn't take her to Qualinost. Porthios had no use for human clerics.
"Look," Tanis said, suddenly getting an idea, "I'll come back, after the funeral." Tika's eyes brightened. He turned to Lady Crysania. "I'll leave you here, Revered Daughter. You'll be safe in this town, in the Inn, Then I can escort you back to Palanthas since your journey has failed—”
"My journey has not failed," Crysania said resolutely. "I will continue as I began. I intend to go to the Tower of High Sorcery at Wayreth, there to council with Par-Salian of the White Robes."
Tanis shook his head. "I cannot take you there," he said. "And Caramon obviously is incapable. Therefore I suggest—”
"Yes," Crysania interrupted complacently. "Caramon is clearly incapacitated. Therefore I will wait for the kender friend of yours to meet me here with the person he was sent to find, then I will continue on my own."
"Absolutely not!" Tanis shouted. Riverwind raised his eyebrows, reminding Tanis who he was addressing.With an effort, the half-elf regained control. "My lady, you have no idea of the danger! Besides those dark things that pursued us— and I think we all know who sent them—I've heard Caramon's stories about the Forest of Wayreth. It's darker still! We'll go back to Palanthas, I’ll find some Knights—”