Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (17 page)

!omed to have his breakfast. She stood there doing nothing, star-

ing at nothing, her face pale and drawn.

"Caramon was my very best friend in all the world," Tas

told her.

"Thank you." She smiled, though her smile trembled. Her

eyes were red from weeping.

"Tasslehoff," the kender reminded her, thinking she had for-

gotten his name.

"Yes." Laura appeared uneasy. "Er . . . Tasslehoff."

"I am Tasslehoff Burrfoot. The original," the kender added, re-

calling his thirty-seven namesakes-thirty-nine counting the

dogs. "Caramon recognized me. He gave me a hug and said he

was glad to see me."

Laura regarded him uncertainly. "You certainly do look like

Tasslehoff. But then I was just a little girl the last time I re-

member seeing him, and all kender look alike anyway, and it

just doesn't make sense! Tasslehoff Burrfoot's been dead these

thirty years!"

Tas would have explained-all about the Device of Time

Journeying and Fizban having set the device wrong the first time

so that Tas had arrived at Caramon's first funeral too late to give

his speech, but there was a lump of sadness caught in the

kender's gullet, a lump so very big that it prevented the words

from coming out.

Laura's gaze went to the stairs of the Inn. Her eyes filled again

with tears. She put her head in her hands.

"There, there," Tas said, patting her shoulder. "Palin will be

here soon. He knows who I am, and he'll be able to explain

everything."

"Palin won't be here," Laura sobbed. "1 can't get word to him.

It's too dangerous! His own father dead and him not able to come

to the burial. His wife and my dear sister trapped in Haven, since

the dragon's closed the roads. Only me here to say good-bye to

father. It's too hard! Too hard to bear!"

"Why, of course, Palin will be here," Tas stated, wondering

what dragon had closed the roads and why. He meant to ask, but

with all the other thoughts in his mind, this one couldn't battle its

way to the front. "There's that young wizard staying here in the

Inn. Room Seventeen. His name is . . . well, I forget his name, but

you'll send him to the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth, where

Palin is Head of the Order of White Robes."

What tower in Wayreth?" Laura said. She had stopped

crYIng and was looking puzzled. "The tower's gone, disap-

peared, just like the tower in Palanthas. Palin was head of the

Academy of Sorcery, but he doesn't even have that, anymore.

The dragon Beryl destroyed the academy a year ago, almost to

this date. And there is no Room Seventeen. Not since the Inn was

rebuilt the second time."

Tas, busy with remembering, wasn't listening. "Palin will

come right away and he'll bring Dalamar, too, and Jenna. Palin

will send the messengers to Lady Crysania in the Temple of Pal-

adine and to Goldmoon and Riverwind in Que-shu and Laurana

and Gilthas and Silvanoshei in Silvanesti. They'll all be here soon

so we...we...

Tas's voice trailed off.

Laura was staring at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted two

heads. Tas knew because he'd felt that same expression on his

own face when he'd been in the presence of a troll who had done

that very thing. Slowly, keeping her eyes on Tas, Laura edged

away from him.

"You sit right down here," she said, and her voice was very

soft and very gentle. "Sit right here, and I'll . . . I'll bring you a big

plate of-"

"Spiced potatoes?" Tas asked brightly. If anything could get

rid of the lump in his throat, it was Otik's spiced potatoes.

"Yes, a big, heaping dish of spiced potatoes. We haven't lit the

cook fires yet this morning, and Cook was so upset I gave her the

day off, so it may take me awhile. You sit down and promise you

won't go anywhere, " Laura said, backing away from the table.

She slid a chair in between her and Tas.

"Oh, I won't go anywhere at all," Tas promised, plopping

himself down. III have to speak at the funeral, you know."

"Yes, that's right." Laura pressed her lips tightly together with

the result that she wasn't able to say anything for a few moments.

Drawing in a deep breath, she added, "You have to speak at the

funeral. Stay here, that's a good kender."

"Good" and IIkender" being two words that were rarely, if

ever, linked, Tasslehoff spent the time sitting at the table, thinking

about what a good kender might be and wondering if he was one

himself. He assumed he probably was, since he was a hero and all

that. Having settled this question to his satisfaction, he took out

his notes and went over his speech, humming a little tune to keep

himself company and to help the sadness work its way down his

windpipe.

He heard Laura talking to a young man, perhaps the wizard

in Room Seventeen, but Tas didn't really pay much attention to

what she was saying, since it seemed to involve a poor person

who was afflicted, a person who had gone crazy and might be

dangerous. At any other time, Tas would have been interested to

see a dangerous, afflicted, crazy person, but he had his speech to

worry about, and since that was the reason he'd made this trip in

the first place-or rather, in the second place--he concentrated

on that.

He was still concentrating on it, along with a plate of potatoes

and a mug of ale, when he became aware that a tall person was

standing over him wearing a grim expression.

"Oh, hullo," Tas said, looking up smiling to see that the tall

person was actually his extremely good friend, the Knight who'd

arrested him yesterday. Since the Knight was an extremely good

friend, it was a pity Tas couldn't recall his name. "Please, sit

down. Would you like some potatoes? Maybe some eggs?"

The Knight refused all offers of anything to eat or drink. He took

a seat opposite Tas, regarded the kender with a stem expression.

"I understand that you have been causing trouble," the

Knight said in a cold and nasty flat tone of voice.

It just so happened that at that moment Tasslehoff was rather

proud of himself for not causing any trouble. He'd been sitting

quietly at the table, thinking sad thoughts of Caramon's being

gone and happy thoughts of the wonderful time they'd spent to-

gether. He hadn't once looked to see if there might be something

interesting in the wood box. He had foregone his usual inspection

of the silver chest, and he had only acquired one strange purse,

and while he didn't exactly remember how he had come by that,

he had to assume that someone had dropped it. He'd be sure to

return it after the funeral.

Tas was therefore justifiably resentful of the Knight's implica-

tion. He fixed the Knight with a stem eye-dueling stem eyes, as

it were. "I'm sure you don't mean to be ugly," Tas said. "You're

upset. I understand."

The young Knight's face took on a very peculiar color, going ex-

tremely red, almost purple. He tried to say something, but he was

so angry that when he opened his mouth, only sputters came out.

"I see the problem," Tas said, correcting himself. "No

wonder you didn't understand me. I didn't mean 'ugly' as in

'ugly.' I was referring to your disposition, not your face, which

is, however, a remarkably ugly one. I don't know when I've seen

one uglier. StilL I know you can't mend your face, and perhaps

you can't mend your disposition either, being a Solamnic Knight

and all, but you have made a mistake. I have not been causing

trouble. I have been sitting at this table eating potatoes-they're

really quite good, are you sure you won't have some? Well, if

you won't, I'll just finish up these last few. Where was I? Oh,

yes. I've been sitting here eating and working on my speech. For

the funeral."

When the Knight was finally able to speak without sputters,

his tone was even colder and nastier, if such a thing were pos-

sible. "Mistress Laura sent word through one of the customers

that you were scaring her with your outlandish and irrational

statements. My superiors sent me to bring you back to jail. They

would also like to know," he added, his tone grim, "how you

managed to get out of jail this morning."

"I'll be very happy to come back to the jail with you. It was a

very nice jail," Tas answered politely. "I've never seen one that

was kender-proof before. I'll go back with you right after the fu-

neral. I missed the funeral once, you see. I can't miss it again.

Oops! No, I forgot." Tas sighed. "I can't go back to the jail with

you." He really wished he could remember the Knight's name.

He didn't like to ask. It wasn't polite. "1 have to return to my own

time right away. I promised Fizban I wouldn't go gallivanting.

Perhaps I could visit your jail another time."

"Maybe you should let him stay, Sir Gerard," Laura said,

coming up to stand beside them, twisting her apron in her hands.

"He seems very determined, and I wouldn't want him to cause

any trouble. Besides"-her tears started to flow- "maybe he's

telling the truth! After all, Father thought he was Tasslehoff."

Gerard! Tas was vastly relieved. Gerard was the knight's

name.

"He did?" Gerard was skeptical. "He said so?"

"Yes," Laura said, wiping her eyes with her apron. "The

kender walked into the Inn. Daddy was sitting here in his usual

place. The kender walked right up to him and said, 'Hullo, Cara-

mon! I've come to speak at your funeral. I'm a little bit early, so I

thought you might like to hear what I'm going to say,' and Daddy

looked at him in surprise. At first I don't think he believed him,

but then he looked at him closer and cried out, 'Tas!' And he gave

him a big hug."

"He did." Tas felt a snuffle coming on. "He hugged me, and

he said he was glad to see me and where had I been all this time?

I said that it was a very long story and time was the one thing he

didn't have a lot of so I should really let him hear the speech

first." Giving way to the snuffle, Tas mopped his dribbling nose

with his sleeve.

"Perhaps we could let him stay for the funeral," Laura urged.

"I think it would have pleased Daddy. If you could. . . well. . .

just keep an eye on him."

Gerard was clearly dubious. He even ventured to argue with

her, but Laura had made up her mind, and she was very much

like her mother. When her mind was made up, an army of drag-

ons would not move her. ,

Laura opened the doors to the Inn to let in the sunshine, to let

in life and to let in the living who came to pay their respects to the

dead. Caramon Majere lay in a simple wooden casket in front of

the great fireplace of the Inn he loved. No fire burned, only ashes

filled the grate. The people of Solace filed past, each pausing to

offer something to the dead-a silent farewell, a quiet blessing, a

favorite toy, fresh-picked flowers.

The mourners noted that his expression was peaceful, even

cheerful, more cheerful than they had seen him since his beloved

Tika died. "Somewhere, they're together," people said and smiled

through their tears.

Laura stood near the door, accepting condolences. She was

dressed in the clothes she wore for work-a snowy white blouse, a

clean fresh apron, a pretty skirt of royal blue with white petticoats.

People wondered that she wasn't draped head to toe in black.

"Father would not have wanted me to," was her simple reply.

People said it was sad that Laura was the only member of the

family to be present to lay their father t~rest. Dezra, her sister,

had been in Haven purchasing hops for the Inn's famous ale, only

to be trapped there when the dragon Beryl attacked the city.

Dezra had managed to smuggle word to her sister that she was

safe and well, but she dared not try to return; the roads were not

safe for travelers.

As for Caramon's son, Palin, he was gone from Solace on yet

another of his mysterious journeys. If Laura knew where he was,

she didn't say. His wife, Usha, a portrait painter of some renown,

had traveled to Haven as company for Dezra. Since Usha had

painted the portraits of families of some of the commanders of the

Knights of Neraka, she was involved in negotiations to try to win

a guarantee of safe passage for herself and for Dezra. Usha's chil-

dren, Ulin and Linsha, were off on adventures of their own.

Linsha, a Solamnic Knight, had not been heard from in many

months. Ulin had gone away after hearing a report of some mag-

ical artifact and was believed to be in Palanthas.

Tas sat in a booth, under guard, the Knight Gerard at his side.

Watching the people file in, the kender shook his head.

"But I tell you this isn't the way Caramon's funeral's sup-

posed to be," Tasslehoff repeated insistently.

"Shut your mouth, you little fiend," Gerard ordered in a low,

harsh tone. "This is hard enough on Laura and her father's

friends without you making matters worse with your foolish

chatter." To emphasize his words, he gripped the kender's shoul-