Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun (67 page)

marshal's house to treat the ailing rose.

Arriving at Laurana's house, Medan rang the silver chimes

and stood listening with pleasure to their sweet song as he waited

for a response.

An elf answered the door, bowed politely. Medan looked at

him intently.

"Kelevandros, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, Marshal," the elf returned.

"I came to see-"

"Who is it, Kelevandros?" Laurana appeared, walking down

the hallway. "Ah, Marshal Medan. Welcome to my home. Please

come in. Will you take some refreshment?"

"Thank you, madam, but I cannot stay," Medan said politely.

"We have had reports that a band of rebels are operating in the

wilderness not far from here. One of my own men was savagely

attacked." He eyed her closely. liThe rebels have no love for the

royal family, considering them to be collaborators. If, as you say,

you have no influence over these rebels-"

"I live a quiet and retired life, Marshal," Laurana said. III go

nowhere except to the palace to visit my son. Yet I find myself

constantly under suspicion. My first love and loyalty are to my

homeland and my people."

"I am aware of that fact, madam," Medan said with a cool

smile. IITherefore, madam, until we have caught these rebels, it is

not safe for you to leave the confines of your house. I must ask

that you and those you care about remain close to home. You

have permission to visit the palace, naturally, but I must prohibit

trips to other places in the realm."

"Am I a prisoner in my house, then, Marshal?" Laurana

demanded.

"I do this for your own protection, madam," Medan said. He

reached out his hand to draw near one of the purple blossoms, in-

haled its sweet fragrance. "My commendations on this beautiful

lilac bush. I have never known one to bloom so long past spring.

Good-day to you, Queen Mother."

"And to you, Marshal Medan," Laurana said.

"How I detest this game," said Medan to himself. Making his

solitary way back to his own dwelling, he could smell the lilac's

perfume.

"How I hate this game," Laurana said, shutting the door and

leaning her head with its crown of golden hair against it.

The waterfall played sweet and gentle music and Laurana lis-

tened to its song, let the melody soothe her, restore her to her cus-

tomary hopefulness. She was not one to give way to despair. She

had walked in darkness, the greatest darkness the world had

known. She had come face-to-face with the dread goddess Takhi-

sis. She had seen love surmount the darkness, love triumph. She

believed that even the darkest night must eventually give way to

the dawn.

She held fast to that belief through all the sorrows and travails

of her life, through the loss of her son to the political machina-

tions of her own people, through the death of her beloved hus-

band, Tanis, who had died defending the High Clerist's Tower

against the Dark Knights, died of a sword thrust in the back. She

grieved his loss, she missed him sorely, she established a shrine to

him in her heart, but his death did not bring about her own. She

did not bury her heart in his grave. To do so would have been to

deny his life, to undo all the good that he had done. She contin-\

ued to fight for the causes both of them had championed.

Some people took exception to this. They thought she should

have clothed herself in black and retired from the world. They

took offense that she should laugh and smile, or listen with pleas-

ure to the minstrel's song.

"It is so sad," they would say. "Your husband died such a

senseless death."

"Tell me, sir," Laurana would reply, or, "Tell me, madam. Tell

me what you consider to be a sensible death?"

Smiling to herself at their discomfiture, Laurana heard, in her

heart, Tanis's laughter. There had been a time, shortly after his

death, when she could hear his voice and sense his presence

watching over her, not protectively, but supporting, reassuring.

She had not felt his presence" however, in a long, long time. She

could only assume that he had passed on to the next stage on

life's journey. She was not saddened or sorrowful. She would

meet him when it was time for her to depart this life. They would

find each other, though all eternity might stand between them.

Meanwhile, the dead did not need her. The living did.

"My lady," said Kelevandros softly, "do not let the marshal's

threats upset you. We will outwit him. We have always done so."

Laurana lifted her head and smiled. "Yes, we will. How for-

tunate that you had returned from your mission, Kelevandros.

Medan might have noted your absence, and that would have

made things awkward. We must take extra precautions from

now on. Gilthas reports that the dwarven tunnels are near com-

pletion. You will use that route now. It will take you out of your

way, but it will be safer. Kalindas! You should not be out of bed!"

The elf stood swaying unsteadily in the doorway. His head

was swathed in bandages, he was so pale that his skin had a

translucent quality. Laurana could see the blue veins in his face.

Kelevandros came to his brother's aide, put his arm around him,

assisted him to a couch. He eased his brother down gently, all the

while scolding Kalindas roundly for leaving his bed and causing

their mistress concern.

"What happened to me?" Kalindas asked dazedly.

"You don't remember?" Laurana asked.

"Nothing!" He put his hand to his head.

"Kelevandros," Laurana said sharply, "go to the front door.

Make certain that Marshal Medan remembered to leave."

"Birds sing in the trees," Kelevandros reported on his return.

"The bees buzz among the flowers. No one is about."

"Now, Kalindas"-Laurana turned to him-"do you remem-

ber guiding Master Palin, Gerard, and the kender to the meeting

with the griffon?"

Kalindas considered. "Vaguely, madam."

"You were attacked while you were in the wilderness," said

Laurana, readjusting the bandages on the young elf's head.

"We have been very worried about you. When you didn't

return, I asked the Lioness to send her people to search for you.

The rebels found you lying wounded in the forest. They

brought you back yesterday. Why did you rise? Do you need

anything?"

"No, madam, thank you," said Kalindas. "Forgive me for

causing you alarm. I heard the marshal's voice and thought per-

haps you might stand in need of me. I fancied myself well enough

to leave my bed. I was mistaken, it seems."

Kelevandros eased his injured brother to a more comfortable

position on the couch, while Laurana spread her own shawl over

Kalindas to keep him warm.

"You have endured enough from Medan afid his men:' Lau-

rana said, her voice cool with anger. "You are fortunate you

weren't killed!"

"They had no need to kill me," Kalindas said bitterly. "They

must have struck me from behind. Did Master Palin and the

kender escape safely with the magical device?"

"We believe so. The rebels found no trace of them, and we

have received no reports that they were captured."

"What about the Solamnic?"

"The Lioness reported signs of a fight. Two of the Neraka

Knights were killed. They could not find Gerard's body and so

they assume that he was made prisoner." Laurana sighed. "If that

is true, I could almost wish him dead. The rebels have their spies

in the army trying to discover information about him. He is not in

prison, that much we know, and that is all we know.

"As for Palin, Kelevandros has just returned from a meeting

with the griffons, who arrived bearing a message, which I hope is

from Palin."

"I have it here, madam," said Kelevandros. He removed a roll

of parchment from his boot, handed the roll to Laurana.

"Are you certain you are all right?" she asked Kalindas, ac-

cepting the scroll. "Shall I call for a glass of wine."

"Please read your letter, Madam," Kalindas said. "Do not

worry about me."

After another worried glance, Laurana went to her writing

desk and sat down. Kelevandros lit a candle for her, brought it to

her desk. She unrolled the parchment. It was covered with ink

and smelled faintly of lemon. The words written in the letter were

inconsequential. A former neighbor told Laurana of the crops that

he had planted, how big his children were growing, how he'd re-

cently purchased a fine horse at the Midyear Day's Fair. He in-

quired after her health, hoped she was well.

Laurana held the parchment above the candle's flame, taking

care not to hold it too near, taking care not to bum the paper or

singe it. Slowly, more writing began to appear on the parchment

words written in between the lines of words written in ink. She

passed the paper back and forth above the flame until the hidden

message written on the parchment was revealed.

Placing it on the desk, she read the missive silently, to her-

self. The handwriting was not Palin's. Laurana was puzzled as

to who had written the letter, looked to see the signature on the

bottom.

"Ah, Jenna," she murmured.

She read on, growing more amazed with each line.

"What is it, madam?" Kalindas asked, alarmed. "What has

happened?"

"Strange," she murmured. "So very strange. I cannot believe

this. Going back in time to find the past no longer exists. I don't

understand."

She continued on. "Tasslehoff missing." She shook her head.

"He did not come here."

She read on. The brothers exchanged glances. A dark line

marred the smooth skin of her forehead. Her brows came to-

gether. She read to the end of the scroll, stared at it long moments,

as if willing it to say something other than what it said, she slowly

released the end. The scroll curled in upon itself, hung limply in

her hand.

"We are being spied upon, it seems," Laurana said, and her

tone was deliberatly even and calm. "Palin and Tasslehoff were

chased by a dragon, one of Beryl's minions. Palin believes that the

dragon was after the artifact. That means Beryl knows of the arti-

fact's existence and where it is to be found. The Neraka Knights

did not stumble across the four of you by accident, Kalindas. You

walked into an ambush."

"A spy! In your own house. Perhaps one of us? That is im-

possible, madam," Kelevandros stated heatedly.

"Indeed, it is," said Kalindas.

"I hope you are right," Laurana said gravely. "An elf who

would betray his own people. . ." She shook her head, her tone

was sorrowful. "It is hard to believe that such evil could exist. Yet,

it has happened before."

"You know that none of us would betray you," Kalindas reit-

erated, with emphasis.

Laurana sighed. "I don't know what to think. Mistress Jenna

suggests that perhaps there is a mentalist among the Neraka

Knights, one who has learned to see into our minds and gather

our thoughts. What a bitter pass we are come to! We have to set a

guard now upon what we think!"

She slipped the message into the girdle of gold she wore

around her waist. "Kelevandros, bring me some lemon juice and

then ready Brightwing to carry a message to the griffons."

The elf did as he was told, departing on his errands in silence.

He exchanged a final glance with his brother before he left. Both

noted that Laurana had not answered the question about Palin.

She had taken care to change the subject. She did not trust even

them, it seemed. A shadow had fallen over their peaceful

dwelling place, a shadow that would not soon be lifted.

Laurana's answer to the letter was short.

Tasslehoff is not here. I will watch for him. Thank you for the warn-

ing about spies. I will be on my guard.

She rolled the message tightly so that it would fit in the small

crystal tube that would be tied to the hawk's leg.

"Forgive me for disturbing you, madam," Kalindas said, "but

the pain in my head has increased. Kelevandros told me that the

healer spoke of poppy juice. I think that might help me, if my

brother would bring it to me."

"I will send for the healer at once," Laurana said, concerned.

"Lie here until your brother returns to fetch her for you."

Marshal Medan walked late in his garden. He enjoyed watch- 1

ing the miracle of the night-blooming flowers that shunned the

sun and opened their blossoms to the pale moonlight. He was

alone. He had dismissed his aide, ordered him to clear out his

things. The Solarnnic would arrive tomorrow, start upon his new

duties.

Medan was pausing to admire a white orchid that seemed to

glow in the moonlight, when he heard a voice hissing from the

bushes.

"Marshal! It is I!"

"Indeed," said Medan, "and here I thought it was a snake. I

am weary. Crawl back under your rock until morning."

"I have important information that cannot wait," the voice

said. "Information Beryl will find most interesting. The mage

Palin Majere has used the artifact to journey back in time. This is