Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (48 page)

dwarves (one could not dignify it by terming it a "village") lo-

cated near the fortress of Pax Tharkas. The tavern was the only

building in the habitation. The gully dwarves who ran the tavern

lived in caves in the hills behind the tavern, caves that could be

reached only by tunnels located beneath the tavern.

The gully dwarf community was located some eighty miles

straight as the griffon flies from Qualinost, longer-far longer-if

one traveled by road. Gilthas had flown here on the back of a grif-

fon, one whose family was in the service of House Royal. The

beast had landed the king and his guide in the forest and was

now awaiting their return with less impatience than might have

been expected. Kerian had made certain to provide the griffon

with a freshly killed deer to make the long hours of waiting pass

pleasantly and to ensure that the beast didn't dine on any of their

hosts.

The Gulp and Belch was surprisingly popular. Or perhaps not

surprising, considering that the prices were the lowest in Ansa-

Ion. Two coppers could buy anything. The business had been

started by the same gully dwarf who had been a cook in the

household of the late Dragon Highlord, Verminaard.

People who know gully dwarves, but who have never tasted

gully dwarf cooking, find it impossible to even imagine eating

anything a gully dwarf might prepare. Considering that a fa-

vorite delicacy of gully dwarf is rat meat, some equate the idea of

having a gully dwarf for a cook with a death wish.

Gully dwarves are the outcasts of dwarfdom. Although they

are dwarves, the dwarves do not claim them and will go to great

lengths to explain why gully dwarves are dwarves in name only.

Gully dwarves are extremely stupid, or so most people believe.

Gully dwarves cannot count past two, their system of numbering

being "one", "two." The very smartest gully dwarf, a legend

among gully dwarves, whose name was Bupu, actually once

counted past two, coming up with the ter}:n "a whole bunch."

Gully dwarves are not noted for their interest in higher

mathematics. They are noted for their cowardice, for their filth,

their love of squalor and-oddly enough-their cooking. Gully

dwarves make extremely good cooks, so long as the diner sets

down rules about what may and may not be served at the table

and refrains from entering the kitchen to see how the food is

prepared.

The Gulp and Belch served up an excellent roast haunch of

venison smothered in onions and swimming in rich brown

gravy. The ale was adequate-not as good as in many establish-

ments, but the price was right. The dwarf spirits made the

tavern's reputation. They were truly remarkable. The gully

dwarves distilled their own from mushrooms cultivated in their

bedrooms. Those drinking the brew are advised not to dwell on

that fact for too long.

The tavern was frequented mainly by humans who could

afford no better, by kender who were glad to find a tavernkeeper

who did not immediately toss them out into the street, and by the

lawless, who were quick to discover that the Knights of Neraka

rarely patrolled the wagon ruts termed a road leading to the

tavern.

The Gulp and Belch was also the hideout and headquarters

for the warrior known as the Lioness, a woman who was also,

had anyone known it, queen of Qualinesti, secret wife of the

Speaker of the Sun, Gilthas.

The elven king sat in the chair in the semidarkness of the

tavern's back room, trying to curb his impatience. Elves are never

impatient. Elves, who live for hundreds of years, know that the

water will boil, the bread will rise, the acorn will sprout, the oak

will grow and that all the fuming and watching and attempts to

hurry it make only for an upset stomach. Gilthas had inherited

impatience from his half-human father, and although he did his

best to hide it, his fingers drummed on the table and his foot

tapped the floor.

Kerian glanced over at him, smiled. A single candle stood on

the table between them. The candle's flame was reflected in her

brown eyes, shone warmly on smooth, brown skin, glinted in the

burnished gold of her mane of hair. Kerian was a Kagonesti, a

Wilder elf, a race of elves who, unlike their city-dwelling cousins,

the Qualinesti and the Silvanesti, live with nature. Since they do

not try to alter nature or shape it, the Wilder elves are looked

upon as barbarians by their more sophisticated cousins, who

have also gone so far as to enslave the Kagonesti and force them

to serve in wealthy elven households-all for the Kagonesti's

own good, of course.

Kerian had been a slave in the household of Senator Rashas.

She had been present when Gilthas was first brought to that

house, ostensibly as a guest, in reality a prisoner. The two had

fallen in love the first moment they had seen each other, although

it was months, even years, before they actually spoke of their feel-

ings, exchanged their secret vows. .

Only two other people, Planchet and Gilthas's mother, Lau-

rana, knew of the king's marriage to the girl who had once been

a slave and who was now known as the Lioness, fearless leader

of the Khansari, the Night People.

Catching Kerian's eye, Gilthas realized immediately what he

was doing. He clenched the tapping fingers to a fist and crossed

his booted feet to keep them quiet. "There," he said ruefully. "Is

that better?"

"You will fret yourself into a sickness if you're not carefuL"

Kerian scolded, smiling. "The dwarf will come. He gave his

word."

"So much depends on this," said Gilthas. He stretched out his

legs to ease the kinks of the unaccustomed exercise "Perhaps our

very survival as a-" He halted, stared down at the floor. "Did

you feel that?"

"The shaking? Yes. I've felt it the last couple of hours. It's

probably just the gully dwarves adding to their tunnels. They

love to dig in the dirt. As to what you were saying, there is no

'perhaps' about our ultimate destruction," Kerian returned

crisply.

Her voice with its accent that civilized elves considered un-

couth was like the song of the sparrow, of piercing sweetness

with a note of melancholy.

"The Qualinesti have given the dragon everything she has de-

manded. They have sacrificed their freedom, their pride, their

honor. They have, in some instances, even sacrificed their

own-all in return for the dragon's permission to live. But the

time will come when Beryl will make a demand your people will

find impossible to fulfill. When that day comes and she finds her

will thwarted, she will destroy the Qualinesti."

"Sometimes I wonder why you care," Gilthas said, looking

gravely at his wife. "The Qualinesti enslaved you, took you from

your family. You have every right to feel vengeful. You have every

right to steal away into the wilderness and leave those who hurt

you to the fate they so richly deserve. Yet you do not. You risk

your life on a daily basis fighting to force our people to look at the

truth, no matter how ugly, to hear it no matter how unpleasant."

"That is the problem," she returned. "We must stop thinking

of the elven people as 'yours' and 'mine.' Such division and iso-

lation is what has brought us to this pass. Such division gives

strength to our enemies."

"I don't see it changing," Gilthas said grimly. "Not unless

some great calamity befalls us and forces us to change, and per-

haps not even then. The Chaos War, which might have brought us

closer, did nothing but further fragment our people. Not a day

goes by but that some senator makes a speech telling of how our

cousins the Silvanesti have shut us out of their safe haven beneath

the shield, how they want us all to die so that they can take over

our lands. Or someone starts a tirade against the Kagonesti, how

their barbaric ways will bring down all that we have worked over

the centuries to build. There are actually those who approve of

the fact that the dragon has closed the roads. We will do better

without contact with the humans, they say. The Knights of

Neraka urge them on, of course. They love such rantings. It

makes their task far easier."

"From the rumors I hear, the Silvanesti may be finding that

their vaunted magical shield is in reality a tomb."

Gilthas looked startled, sat upright. "Where did you hear

this? You have not told me."

"I have not seen you in a month," Kerian replied with a touch

of bitterness. "I only heard this a few days ago, from the runner

Kelevandros your mother sends regularly to keep in touch with

your aunt Alhana Starbreeze. Alhana and her forces have settled

on the border of Silvanesti, near the shield. They are allied with

the humans who belong to the Legion of Steel. Alhana reports

that the land around the shield is barren, trees sicken and die. A

horrible gray dust settles over everything. She fears that this same

malaise may be infecting all of Silvanesti."

"Then why do our cousins maintain the shield?" Gilthas

wondered.

"They are afraid of the world beyond. Unfortunately, they are

right in some instances. Alhana and her forces fought a pitched

battle with ogres only a short time ago, the night of that terrible

thunderstorm. The Legion of Steel came to their rescue or they

would have been wiped out. As it was, Alhana's son Silvanoshei

was captured by ogres, or so she believes. She could find no trace

of him when the battle was ended. Alhana grieves for him as for

the dead."

"My mother has said nothing of this to me," Gilthas stated,

frowning.

"According to Kelevandros, Laurana fears Marshal Medan's

heightened watchfulness. She trusts only those in her household.

She dare not trust anyone outside it. Whenever the two of you are

together, she is certain that you are spied upon. She does not want

the Dark Knights to find out that she is in constant contact with

Alhana."

"Mother is probably right," Gilthas admitted. "My servant

Planchet is the only person I trust and that is because he has

proven his loyalty to me time and again. So Silvanoshei is dead,

killed by ogres. Poor young man. His death must have been a

cruel one. Let us hope he passed swiftly."

"Did you ever meet him?"

Gilthas shook his head. "He was born in the Inn of the Last

Home in Solace during the time Alhana was exiled. I never saw

her after that. My mother told me that the boy favored my Uncle

Porthios in looks."

"His death makes you heir to both kingdoms," Kerian ob-

served. "The Speaker of the Sun and Stars."

"Which Senator Rashas always wanted," Gilthas said causti-

cally. "In reality, it seems I will be nothing more than the Speaker

of the Dead."

"Speak no words of ill omen!" Kerian said and made the sign

against evil with her hand, drawing a circle in the air to encom-

pass the words and keep them trapped. "You- Yes, what is it,

Silverwing?"

She turned to speak to an elf who had entered the secret room.

The elf started to say something but was interrupted by a gully

dwarf, who appeared to be in a state of extreme excitement, to

judge by the smell.

"Me tel1!" the gully dwarf cried indignantly, jostling the elf.

"Me lookout! Her say so!" He pointed at Kerian.

"Your Majesty." The elf made a hurried bow to Gilthas, before

he turned to Kerian, his commander, with his information. "The

high king of Thorbardin has arrived."

"Him here," the gully dwarf announced loudly. Although he

did not speak elven, he could guess at what was being said. "Me

bring in?"

"Thank you, Ponce." Kerian rose to her feet, adjusted the

sword she wore at her waist. "I will come to meet him. It would

be better if you remained here, Your Majesty," she added. Their

marriage was a secret, even from the elves under Kerian's

command.

"Big muckity-muck dwarf. Him wear hat!" Ponce was im-

pressed. "Him wear shoes!" The gully dwarf was doubly im-

pressed. "Me never see dwarf wear shoes."

"The high king has brought four guards with him," the elf

told Kerian. "As you ordered, we have watched their movements

ever since they left Thorbardin."

"For their safety, as well as ours, Your Majesty," Kerian was

quick to add, seeing Gilthas's expression darken.

"They met with no one," the elf continued, "and they were

not followed-"

"Except by us," Gilthas said sardonically.

"It never hurts to be cautious, Your Majesty," Kerian said.

"Tam Bellowgranite is the new high king of the clans of Thor-

bardin. His rule is secure among his people, but dwarves have

traitors living among them, as do we elves."

Gilthas sighed deeply. "I wish the day would come when this

was not so. I trust the dwarves did not notice that we were dog-

ging them?"

"They saw the starlight, Your Majesty," said the elf proudly.

"They heard the wind in the trees. They did not see'or hear us."