Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (19 page)

were speaking dwarven with a touch of gnome thrown in for

good measure. Consequently no one understood him, and no one

bothered to answer.

Gerard and Lord Warren began to discuss the funeral. Lord

Warren spoke in such warm tones about Caramon that the lump

of sadness returned to Tas's throat with the result that he didn't

need the gag at all.

"And now, Gerard, what can I do for you?" Lord Warren

asked, when the subject of the funeral was exhausted. He re-

garded the young Knight intently. "My aide said you had a ques-

tion about the Measure."

"Yes, my lord. I require a ruling."

"You, Gerard?" Lord Warren raised a graying eyebrow. "Since

when do you give a damn about the dictates of the Measure?"

Gerard flushed, looked uncomfortable.

Lord Warren smiled at the Knight's discomfiture. "I've heard

you express yourself quite clearly regarding what you consider to

be the 'old-fashioned, hidebound' way of doing things-"

Gerard shifted in his chair. "Sir, I may have, on occasion, ex-

pressed my doubts about certain precepts of the Measure-"

Lord Warren's eyebrow twitched even higher.

Gerard considered that it was time to change the subject. "My

lord, an incident occurred yesterday. There were several civilians

present. There will be questions asked."

Lord Warren looked grave. "Will this require a Knight's

Council?"

"No, my lord. I hold you in the highest esteem, and I will

respect your decision concerning this matter. A task has been

given me, and I need to know whether or not I should pursue it

or if I may, in honor, refuse."

"Who gave you this task? Another Knight?" Lord Warren ap-

peared uneasy. He knew of the rancor that existed between

Gerard and the rest of the Knights in the garrison. He had long

feared that some quarrel would break out perhaps resulting in

some foolish challenge on the field of honor.

"No, sir," Gerard answered evenly. "The task was given to me

by a dying man."

"Ah!" said Lord Warren. "Caramon Majere."

"Yes, my lord."

" A last request?"

"Not so much a request, my lord," said Gerard. "An assign-

ment. I would almost sayan order, but Majere was not of the

Knighthood."

"Not by birth, perhaps," said Lord Warren gently, "but in

spirit there was no better Knight living."

"Yes, my lord." Gerard was silent a moment, and Tas saw, for

the first time, that the young man was truly grieved at Caramon's

death.

"The last wishes of the dying are sacred to the Measure, which

states such wishes must be fulfilled if it be mortally possible. The

Measure makes no distinction if the dying person be of the

Knighthood, if it be male or female, human, elf, dwarf, gnome, or

kender. You are honor bound to take this task, Gerard."

"If it be mortally possible," Gerard countered.

"Yes," said Lord Warren. "So reads the Measure. Son, I see

you are deeply troubled by this. If you break no confidence, tell

me the nature of Caramon's last wish."

"I break no confidence, sir. I must tell you in any case, for if I

am to undertake it I will need your permission to be absent from

my post. Caramon Majere asked me to take this kender I have

here with me, a kender who claims to be Tasslehoff Burrfoot,

dead these thirty years, to Dalamar."

"The wizard Dalamar?" Lord Warren was incredulous.

"Yes, my lord. This is what happened. As he lay dying, Cara-

mon spoke of being reunited with his dead wife. Then he ap-

peared to be searching for someone in the crowd of people

gathered around him. He said, 'But where's Raistlin?'"

"That would be his twin brother," Lord Warren interrupted.

"Yes, sir. Caramon added, 'He said he would wait for me'-

meaning Raistlin had agreed to wait for him before leaving this

world for the next, or so Laura told me. Caramon often said that

since they were twins, one could not enter into the blessed realm

without the other."

"I would not think that Raistlin Majere would be permitted to

enter a 'blessed realm' at all," Lord Warren said dryly.

"True, sir." Gerard gave a wry smile. "If there is even a blessed

realm, which I doubt, then. . ."

He paused, coughed in embarrassement. Lord Warren was

frowning and looking very stern. Gerard apparently decided to

skip the philosophical discussion and continue with his story.

"Caramon added something to effect that 'Raistlin should be

here. With Tika. I don't understand. This is not right. Tas . . . What

Tas said. . . A different future. . . Dalamar will know. . . . Take

Tasslehoff to Dalamar.' He was very upset and it seemed to me

that he would not die in peace unless I promised to do as he

asked. So I promised."

"The wizard Raistlin has been dead over fifty years!" Lord

Warren exclaimed.

"Yes, sir. The so-called hero Burrfoot has been dead over

thirty years, so this cannot possibly be him. And the wizard Dala-

mar has disappeared. No one has seeK or heard of him since the

Tower of High Sorcery vanished. It is rumored that he has been

declared legally dead by the members of the Last Conclave."

"The rumors are true. I had 1t as fact from Palin Majere. But

we have no proof of that and we have a man's dying wish to con-

sider. I am not certain how to rule."

Gerard was silent. Tas would have spoken up but for the gag

and the realization that nothing he said could or would or should

make a difference. To be quite truthfuL Tasslehoff himself didn't

know what to do. He had been given strict orders by Fizban to go

to the funeral and to hurry right back. "Don't go gallivanting!"

had been the old wizard's exact words, and he'd looked very

fierce when he'd said them. Tas sat in the chair, chewing reflec-

tively on the gag and pondering the exact meaning of the word,

" gallivanting."

"I have something to show you, my lord," Gerard said. "With

your permission. . ."

Lifting the bundle, Gerard placed it on Lord Warren's desk

and began to untie the string at the top.

In the interim, Tas managed to wriggle his hands free of their

bonds. He could remove the gag now, and he could go off to ex-

plore this truly interesting room, which had several very fine

swords hanging on the wall a shield, and a whole case of maps.

Tas looked longingly at the maps, and his feet very nearly carried

him that direction, but he was extremely curious to see what was

in the Knight's bundle.

Gerard was taking a long time to open it; he seemed to be

having difficulty with the knots.

Tas would have offered to help but thus far every time he had

offered to be of help, Gerard had not seemed to appreciate it much.

Tas occupied himself by watching the grains of sand fall from the

top of an hourglass into the bottom and trying to count them as

they fell. This proved a challenge, for the sand grains fell quite rap-

idly and just when he had them sorted out, one after the other, two

or three would fall all in a heap and ruin his calculations.

Tas was somewhere between five thousand seven hundred

and thirty-six and five thousand seven hundred and thirty-eight

when the sands ran out. Gerard was still fumbling with the knots.

Lord Warren reached over and turned the glass. Tas began to

count again. "One, two, threefourfive . . ."

"Finally!" Gerard muttered and released the ties of the

bundle.

Tas left off counting sand grains and sat up as straight as he

possibly could in order to get a good view.

Gerard pressed the folds of the sack down around the object,

taking care- Tas saw-not to touch the object itself. Jewels

flashed and sparkled in the rays of the setting sun. Tas was so ex-

cited that he jumped out of his chair and tore the gag from his

mouth.

"Hey!" he cried, reaching for the object. "That's just like mine!

Where did you get it? Say!" he said, taking a good, close look.

"That is mine!"

Gerard closed his hand over the kender's hand that was just

inches away from the bejeweled object. Lord Warren stared at the

object, openmouthed.

"I found this in the kender's pouch, sir," said Gerard. "Last

night, when we searched him before locking him up in our

prison. A prison that, I might add, is not as kender-proof as we

thought. I'm not certain-I am no mage, my lord-but the device

appears to be to be magical. Quite magical."

"It is magical," Tasslehoff said proudly. "That's the way I

came here. It used to belong to Caramon, but he was always wor-

ried for fear someone would steal it and misuse it-1 can't imag-

ine who would do such a thing, myself. I offered to take care of it

for him, but Caramon said, no, he thought it should go some-

where where it would be truly safe, and Dalamar said he'd take

it, so Caramon gave it to him and he . .. ." Tas quit talking because

he didn't have an audience.

Lord Warren had withdrawn his hands from the desk. The

object was about the size of an egg, encrusted with jewels that

sparkled and glowed. Close examination revealed it to be made

up of a myriad small parts that looked as if they could be manip-

ulated, moved about. Lord Warren eyed it warily. Gerard kept

fast hold of the kender.

The sun sank down toward the horizon and now shone

brightly through the window. The office was cool and shadowed.

The object glittered and gleamed, its own small sun.

"I have never seen the like of it," said Lord Warren, awed.

"Nor have I, sir," said Gerard. "But Laura has."

Lord Warren looked up, startled.

"She said that her father had an object like this. He kept it

locked in a secret place in a room in the Inn that is dedicated to the

memory of his twin brother Raistlin. She remembers well the day,

some months prior to the Chaos War, when he removed the object

from its secret hiding place and gave it to . . ." Gerard paused.

"Dalamar?" said Lord Warren, astounded. He stared at the

device again. "Did her father say what it did? What magic it pos-

sessed ?"

"He said that the object had been given to him by Par-Salian

and that he had traveled back in time by means of its magic."

"He did, too," Tasslehoff offered. "I went with him. That's

how I knew how the device worked. You see, it occurred to me

that I might not outlive Caramon-"

Lord Warren said a single word, said it with emphasis and

sincerity. Tas was impressed. Knights didn't usually say words

like that.

"Do you think it's possible?" Lord Warren had shifted his

gaze. He began staring at Tas as if he'd sprouted two heads.

Obviously he's never seen a troll. These people should really

get out more, Tas thought.

"Do you think this is the real Tasslehoff Burrfoot?"

"Caramon Majere believed it was, my lord."

Lord Warren looked back at the strange device. "It is obvi-

ously an ancient artifact. No wizard has the ability to make mag-

Ical objects like this these days. Even I can feel its power, and I'm

certainly no mage, for which I thank fate." He looked back at Tas.

"No, I don't believe it's possible. This kender stole it, and he has

devised this outlandish tale to conceal his crime.

"We must return the artifact to the wizards, of course, though

not, I would say, to the wizard Dalamar." Lord Warren frowned.

" At the very least the device should be kept out of the hands of

the kender. Where is Palin Majere? It seems to me that he is the

one to consult." .

"But you can't stop the device from coming back to my

hands," Tas pointed out. "It's meant to always come back to me,

and it will, sooner or later. Par-Salian-the great Par-Salian, I met

him once, you know. He was very respectful to kender. Very." Tas

fixed Gerard with a stern eye, hoping the Knight would take the

hint. "Anyhow, Par-Sa Ii an told Caramon that the device was

magically designed to always return to the person who used it.

That's a safety precaution, so that you don't end up stranded back

in time with no way of going back home. It's come in quite handy,

since I have a tendency to lose things. I once lost a woolly mam-

moth. The way it happened was-"

"I agree, my lord," Gerard said loudly. "Be silent, kender.

Speak when you are spoken to." .

"Excuse me," said Tas, beginning to be bored. "But if you're

not going to listen to me, may I go look at your maps? I'm very

fond of maps."

Lord Warren waved his hand. Tas wandered off and was soon

absorbed in reading the maps, which were really lovely, but

which, the more he looked at them, he found very puzzling.

Gerard dropped his voice so low that Tas had a difficult time

hearing him. "Unfortunately, my lord, Palin Majere is on a secret

mission to the elven kingdom of Qualinesti, to consult with the

elven sorcerers. Such meetings have been banned by the dragon

Beryl, and if his whereabouts became known to her, she would

exact terrible retribution."

"Yet, it seems to me that he must know of this immediately!"