Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (54 page)

sordid sort of place. Gerard was sorry to be returning to it. He

had come to understand why the elves were loathe to travel out-

side their beautiful, serene realm.

Their elven guide stood waiting. Laurana kissed Tas, who,

feeling a snuffle coming on, was quiet for all of three minutes. She

thanked Gerard graciously for his help and gave him her hand to

kiss, which he did with respect and admiration and a true feeling

of loss. She spoke last to Palin, who had remained aloof, off to one

side. He was obviously impatient to be gone.

"My friend," she said to him, placing her hand on his arm, "I

believe that I know something of what you are thinking."

He frowned at this and shook his head slightly.

Laurana continued, "Be careful, Palin. Think long and well

before you act."

He made no answer but kissed her as was the elven custom

between old friends and told her, rather curtly, not to worry. He

knew what he was about.

As he followed their elven guide into the night, Gerard looked

back at the house on the cliff. Its lights shone brilliant as stars, but,

like the stars, they were too small to bring day to night.

"Yet without the darkness," said Palin suddenly, "we would

never be aware that the stars exist."

So that's how you rationalize evil, Gerard thought. He made

no comment, and Palin did not speak again. The mage's morose

silence was more than made up for by Tasslehoff.

"One would think that a cursed kender would talk less,"

Gerard grumbled.

"The curse isn't on my tongue," Tasslehoff pointed out. "It's

on my insides. It made them go all squirmy. Have you ever been

cursed like that?"

"Yes, the moment I set eyes on you," Gerard retorted.

"You are all making noise enough to wake a drunken gully

dwarf!" their elven guide said irritably, speaking Common.

Gerard had no idea if this was Kalindas or Kelevandros. He could

never keep the two brothers straight. They were as alike as twins,

although one was older than the other, or so he had been told.

Their elven names, both beginning with K, blurred in his mind.

He might have asked Palin, but the mage was disinclined to talk,

appeared absorbed in his own dark thoughts.

"The kender's chatter is like the twittering of birds compared

to the rattle and clank of your armor, Sir Knight," the elf added.

"Not that it would be much different if you were naked. You

humans cannot even draw a breath without making noise. I could

hear the huffing and bellowing of your breathing a mile distant."

"We've been on the move through this forest for hours,"

Gerard countered. "Are we anywhere near our destination?"

"Quite near," the elf replied. "The clearing where you will

meet the griffon is straight ahead at the end of this trail. If you

had elven sight you could see it from here. In fact, this would be

a good place to halt, if you would like to rest. We should keep

under cover until the last possible moment."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere," Gerard said grate-

fully. Dropping his pack, he sank down at the base of a tall aspen

tree, leaned his back against it, closed his eyes and stretched his

legs. "How long until morning?"

"An hour. And now I must leave you for a while to go hunt-

ing. We should be prepared to offer the griffons fresh meat. They

will be hungry from their long flight and will appreciate the cour-

tesy. You should be safe here, provided none of you wander off."

The elf looked at the kender as he spoke.

"We will be fine," Palin said the first words he had spoken in

hours. He did not sit down, but paced beneath the trees, restless

and impatient. "No, Tas. You stay here with us. Where is the

device? You still have it, don't you? No, don't bring it out. I just

want to know it's safe."

"Oh, it's safe," the kender said. "It couldn't be unsafe, if you

know what I mean."

"Damn funny time to go hunting," Gerard observed, watch-

ing the elf slip off into the darkness.

"He leaves on my orders," Palin said. "The griffons will be in

a much better humor when they have eaten, and we will have a

safer ride. I was once on the back of a griffon who decided that

her empty belly was more important than her rider. Spying a deer

on the ground, she swooped down upon it. I could do nothing

but cling to her in terror. Fortunately we all came out of it alive,

including the deer, who heard my cries to the griffon to stop and

dashed off into the forest. The griffon ~as in a foul mood, how-

ever, and refused to carry me farther. Smce then, I have always

made certain that I brought a gift of food."

"Then why didn't the elf do that before we left instead of

waiting to go hunting now?"

"Probably because he did not want to walk for miles lugging

a deer carcass over his shoulder," Palin said sardonically. "You

must take into account the fact that the smell of fresh-killed meat

makes many elves sick to their stomachs."

Gerard said nothing, fearing to say too much. By the mage's

tone, Palin took the Knight for an idiot. Perhaps he had not meant

it that way, but that was how Gerard understood it.

"By the way, Sir Gerard," Palin said stiffly, "I want you to

know that I consider that you have done your part in fulfilling my

father's dying request. I will take up the matter from here. You

need no longer concern yourself with it."

"As you wish, sir," Gerard returned.

"I want to thank you for what you have done," Palin added

after a pause during which the chill in the air could have caused

snow to start falling in midsummer. "You have performed a great

service at the risk of your own life. A great service," he repeated

softly. "I will recommend to Lord Warren that you be given a

commendation."

"Thank you, sir," Gerard said. "But I'm only doing my duty

by your father, a man I much admired."

"As opposed to his son, is- that it?" Palin asked. He turned and

walked off a few paces, his head bowed, his arms folded in the

sleeves of his dark-colored robes. He obviously considered their

conversation at an end.

Tasslehoff settled himself down beside Gerard, and because a

kender's hands must always be busy doing something, he turned

out all the pockets in the new shirt he'd persuaded Laurana to

sew for him. The shirt was a riot of color and gave Gerard eye-

strain just to look it. By the lambent light of a half-moon and

many thousand stars, Tas sorted through the interesting things

he'd picked up while in Laurana's house.

No doubt about it. Gerard would be extremely glad to deposit

the mage and the kender in Solace and be done with them both.

The sky above them gradually grew lighter, the stars faded

away, the moon paled, but the elf did not return.

Marshal Medan and his escort reached the rendezvous ap-

pointed by the elf about an hour before dawn. He and the two

Knights with him reined in their horses.. Medan did not dis-

mount. Rebel elves were known to inhabit this part of the

forest. He looked intently into the shadows and the swirling

mists and thought that this would make an excellent place for

an ambush.

"Subcommander," Medan said. "Go see if you can find our

traitor. He said he would be waiting by those three white rocks

over there."

The subcommander dismounted. Keeping his hand on his

sword, half-drawing it from its scabbard, he moved slowly for-

ward, making as little noise as possible. He wore only his breast-

plate, no other metal armor.

The marshal's horse was restive. The animal snorted and blew

and pricked his ears. Medan patted the horse on the neck. "What

is it, boy?" he asked softly. "What's out there?"

The subcommander disappeared in the shadows, reappeared

again as a shadowy silhouette against the backdrop of the three

large white boulders. Medan could hear the man's harsh whisper.

He could not hear if there was a reply but assumed there must

have been, for the sub commander nodded and returned to make

his report.

"The traitor says the three are not far from here, near a clear-

ing, where they are to meet the griffon. He will lead us there. We

should walk, he says. The horses make too much noise."

The marshal dismounted and dropped the reins with a single

spoken word of command. The horse would remain where it was,

would not move from the spot until ordered. The other Knight

dismounted, taking from his saddle a short bow and a quiver of

arrows.

Medan and his escorts crept through the forest.

"And this is what I've been reduced to," Medan muttered

to himself, shoving aside tree branches, stepping carefully

through the undergrowth. He could barely see the man in front

of him. Only the three white rocks showed up clearly and they

were sometimes obscured by the dank mists. "Skulking about

the woods at night like a blasted thief. Relying on the word of

an elf who thinks nothing of betraying his mistress for a hand-

ful of steel. And all for what? To ambush some wretch of a

wizard!"

"Did you say something, sir?" the subcommander whispered.

"Yes," Medan returned. "1 said I would rather be on the field

of honorable battle lying dead with a spear through my heart

than here at this moment. What about you, Subcommander?"

"Sir?" The subcommander stared at him. The man had no clue

what his marshal was talking about.

"Never mind," Medan grated. "Just keep going." He waved

his hand.

The traitor elf appeared, a glimmer of a pale face in the dark-

ness. He raised a pallid hand, motioned for Medan to join him.

The marshal drew forward, eyed the elf grimly.

"Well? Where are they?" Medan did not use the elf's name. In

Medan's mind, the elf was not worthy of a name.

"There!" The elf pointed. "Beneath that tree. You cannot see it

from here, but there is a clearing a hundred paces beyond. They

plan to meet the griffon there."

The sky was graying with the dawn. Medan could see nothing

at first and then the mists swirled apart, revealing three shadowy

figures. One appeared to be wearing dark armor, for though

Medan could not see it clearly, he could hear it rattle and clank.

"Sir," said the traitor, sounding nervous, "have you further

need of me? If not, I should be going. My absence may be noted."

"Leave, by all means," said Medan.

The elf slipped away into 'the woods.

The marshal motioned for the knight with the bow to come

forward.

"Remember, the dragon wants them alive," Medan said.

"Aim high. Shoot to cripple. Fire on my order. Not before."

The Knight nodded and took his place in the brush. He fit an

arrow to his bow string and looked to the marshal.

Medan watched and waited.

Gerard heard a flapping sound, as of immense wings. He'd

never before seen a griffon, but this sounded like what he ex-

pected a griffon would sound like. He jumped to his feet.

"What is it?" Palin lifted his head, startled by the Knight's

sudden movement.

"I think I hear the griffon, sir," Gerard replied.

Palin drew back his hood to hear better, looked toward the

clearing. They could not see the griffon yet. The beast was still

among the treetops, but the wind from its wings was starting to

scatter dead leaves and kick up dust.

"Where? Where?" Tasslehoff cried, hastily gathering up all his

valuables and stuffing them into whatever location presented

itself.

The griffon came into view, huge wings stilled now, floating

on the air currents to a smooth landing. Gerard forgot his irrita-

tion with the mage and his annoyance at the kender in wonder at

the sight of the strange beast. Elves ride griffons as humans ride

horses, but few humans did. Griffons have always had a distrust

of humans, who were known to hunt and kill them.

Gerard had tried not to dwell on the fact that he would soon

be trusting his life to a beast that had little reason to love him, but

now he was forced to confront the idea of actually riding on the

back of one of these creatures, riding it not over a road but into

the air. High in the air, so that any mischance would send him

plummeting to a horrible death.

Gerard steeled himself, faced this as he faced any other

daunting task. He noted the proud eagle head with its white

feathers, the shining black eyes, and the hooked beak that could,

or so he'd heard, snap a man's spine in two or rip his head from

his neck. The front legs were those of an eagle, with rending

talons; the back legs and body were those of a lion, covered in a

soft brown fur. The wings were large and snow white under-

neath, brown on top. The griffon was taller than Gerard by at

least head and shoulders.

"There is only one of them," Gerard reported coolly, as if

meeting one were an everyday occurrence with him. "At least so

far. And no sign of the elf."

"Strange," Palin said, glancing about. "1 wonder where he