Part 8 (2/2)
”Maybe Flint told him,” Caramon said, and the possibility cheered him. ”Yeah, that's it. Flint must have told him.”
Sturm knew it was hopeless to point out the obvious- Flint wouldn't tell Raistlin the time of day. Caramon had lied to himself about his twin for so many years that he wouldn't know the truth now if it gave him a swift kick in the backside.
Ranging ahead of the others, Raistlin knew perfectly well that his brother and the knight were talking about him. He even knew what they were saying. He could have quoted them both word for word. He didn't care. Let the knight malign him. Caramon would defend him. Caramon always defended him. It was nauseating the way Caramon always defended him. Sometimes Raistlin found himself wis.h.i.+ng Caramon would grow a backbone, stand up to him, defy him. Then he reflected that if this happened, Caramon would be of no more use to him, and he still needed Caramon. The day would come when he would be able to live independent of his twin but not now. Not yet.
Raistlin cast an oblique glance at the two men over his shoulder- his brother trotting along like a pack animal; Sturm Brightblade, impoverished knight, carrying his n.o.bility around in a sack.
Why is he coming along? Raistlin wondered. He found the notion intriguing. Certainly the n.o.ble knight is not worried about my well being! He professes to care for Caramon, yet Sturm knows perfectly well that Caramon is a seasoned warrior. My brother can take care of himself. Sturm has some reason of his own for tagging along with us. I wonder what that can be... Why is he so interested in Skullcap?
For that matter, Raistlin asked himself, why am I?
He did not know the answer.
Raistlin scanned the rock wall of the mountain that stood dead ahead of them blocking the way. He was searching for the image that was still shadowy in his mind, yet grew clearer and more distinct with every step he took. He knew what he was looking for-or rather, he would know it when he saw it. He knew a secret way that led to Skullcap, yet he didn't know it. He had walked this path before, and he'd never before set foot on it. He'd been here, and he hadn't. He'd done this without doing it.
The day of the dragon's attack on the grove, Raistlin had been writing a new spell into his spellbook when suddenly the quill pen had, seemingly of its own volition, scrawled the word Skullcap Skullcap across the page. across the page.
Raistlin had stared at the word. He had stared at the quill and at his hand that had wielded it. He had torn out the ruined page and tried again to write down his spell. Again the pen had written Skullcap Skullcap. Raistlin had thrown down the pen and searched his mind and at last recalled where he'd heard that name, in what connection.
Fistandantilus. Skullcap was the wizard's tomb.
An unpleasant thrill had tingled through Raistlin's body, a tingle in the blood as of a rising fever. He'd never thought about it, but Skullcap must be close to where they were camped. What wonders might he find there! Ancient magical artifacts, the wizard's spellbooks like the one he had already acquired.
That was the reward, yet Raistlin had the uneasy impression that he was being guided to Skullcap for darker and more sinister reasons. If so, he would deal with those when the time came, which was why he'd decided to take Sturm along.
Sturm Brightblade was an arrogant, insufferable prig who never took a p.i.s.s but that he didn't have to pray over it. Nevertheless, he was a deft hand with a sword. Skullcap might indeed be nothing more than a crumbling old ruin, just as Raistlin had claimed to the a.s.sembly last night.
Even he didn't believe it.
”So Raistlin's gone off to Skullcap,” said Flint, adding dourly, ”Good riddance, I'd say, but he's taking two good men, Caramon and Sturm, to their deaths along with him.”
”Let's hope it doesn't come to that,” said Tanis. ”Are you ready?”
”As I'll ever be,” Flint grumbled. ”I want to go on record as saying this is all a waste of time. If we do find the gate, which I doubt, the dwarves will never open it for us. If they do open it, they won't let us in. The hearts of the Thorbardin clans are hard and cold as the mountain itself. The only reason I'm going, Half-Elven, is to have the chance to say 'I told you so'.”
”So much is changing in the world, perhaps the hearts of the dwarves have changed as well,” Tanis suggested.
Flint gave an explosive snort and went off to finish his packing, leaving Tanis to try to placate an extremely disappointed kender.
”Please, please, please let me go, Tanis!” Ta.s.slehoff begged. He sat on a chair-the same chair to which he had recently been tied-and kicked his feet against the legs. ”It's only fair, you know. After all, you're using one of my very best maps.”
”You along!” Flint rumbled from the other side of the cave. ”We'd be shut out for the next three hundred years. The dwarves would never let a kender beneath the mountain.”
”I think they would,” Tas said eagerly. ”Dwarves and kender are related, after all.”
”We are not!” Flint roared.
”We are so,” Tas argued. ”First there were gnomes, then there was the Graygem and the gnomes tried to catch it, and something happened-I forget what-and Reorx changed some of the gnomes into dwarves and some into kender, so you see, we're first cousins, Flint.”
The dwarf began to sputter.
”Why don't you wait for me outside?” Tanis said to the dwarf.
Flint glared at Tas then picked up his pack and stomped out.
”Please, Tanis,” Tas begged, looking up at him with pleading eyes. ”You know you need me to keep you out of trouble.”
”I need you here much more, Tas,” said Tanis.
Ta.s.slehoff shook his head glumly. ”You're just saying that.”
”With Sturm, Caramon, and Raistlin gone, and Flint and I gone, who's going to look after Tika? And Laurana? And Riverwind and Goldmoon?”
Tas thought this over. ”Riverwind has Goldmoon. Laurana's got Elistan... What's the matter, Tanis? Does your stomach hurt?”
”No, my stomach doesn't hurt,” Tanis said irritably. He didn't know why any mention of Laurana and Elistan should suddenly put him in a bad humor. What they did was none of his concern.
”It's just you made the kind of face people make when their stomach hurts-”
”My stomach doesn't hurt!” Tanis said.
”That's good,” Tas remarked. ”Nothing's worse than a stomach ache when you're starting on a long journey. You're right. Tika doesn't have anyone since Caramon's gone. I'll stay to take care of her.”
”Thank you, Tas,” said Tanis. ”That's a burden off my mind.”
”I'd better go be with her right now,” Tas added, charmed with his new responsibility. ”She might be in danger.”
Actually, the kender was the one who was in danger. Tika never woke before noon if she could help it, and dawn was only just now breaking. Tanis didn't like to think what would happen to poor Tas when he barged in on her at this time of day.
Tanis found Riverwind and Goldmoon waiting for him. She greeted him with a gentle kiss.
”I will ask the G.o.ds to walk with you, Tanis,” she said to him, adding with a mischievous smile, ”whether you want them to or not.”
Tanis gave a somewhat sheepish grin and scratched his beard. He didn't know what to say, and to change the subject, he turned to Riverwind.
”Thank you for accepting this charge, my friend,” Tanis told him. ”I know the decision was not an easy one, nor will your task be easy, I'm afraid. You know what you must do, where you must go if the valley is attacked?”
”I know.” Riverwind's expression was dark, though he said quietly, ”The G.o.ds are with us. Hopefully such an attack will not happen.”
The G.o.ds are with Verminaard more than us, Tanis thought wryly. They brought him back to life.
He merely nodded, however, and shaking Riverwind's hand, Tanis reminded him once more of the location of the meeting place they agreed upon-a village of gully dwarves at the very foot of the mountain where Flint said the legendary gate to Thorbardin could be found.
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