Part 22 (2/2)
Raistlin coughed and glanced at his brother. Caramon's face flushed red. He shuffled his big feet.
”He thought he smelled food,” Raistlin said caustically.
Caramon gave a sheepish grin and shrugged.
Flint, meanwhile, had been staring at Sturm and at Ta.s.slehoff, who was wriggling with suppressed delight.”What's wrong with Sturm?” Flint asked. ”Why is he glaring at me like that? Where'd he get that helm? And why's he wearing it? It doesn't fit him. The helm is-” Flint drew closer, squinting to see the helm in the twilight- ”it's dwarven!”
”He's not Sturm!” Ta.s.slehoff burst out. ”He's Prince Grallen from under the mountain! Isn't it wonderful, Flint? Sturm thinks he's a dwarf. Just ask him!”
Flint's mouth gaped. Then his jaw shut with a snap. ”I don't believe it.” He walked up to the knight. ”Here now, Sturm. I won't be made sport of-”
Sturm clapped his hand to the hilt of his sword. His blue eyes, beneath the helm, were cold and hard. He said something in dwarven, stumbling over the words, as though his tongue had trouble forming them, but there was no mistaking the language.
Flint stood staring, dumbfounded.
”What'd he say?” Tas asked.
”'Keep your distance, hill dwarf sc.u.m,'” Flint translated, ”or words to that effect.” The dwarf glowered around at Caramon and particularly Raistlin. ”Someone had better tell me what's going on!”
”It was the knight's own fault,” Raistlin repeated, giving Flint a cold look. ”I had nothing to do with it. I warned him the helm was magical, and he should leave it alone. He refused to listen. He put the helm on, and this is the result. He believes he is Prince Grallen, whoever that is.”
”A prince of Thorbardin,” said Flint. ”One of the three sons of King Duncan. Grallen lived over three hundred years ago.” Not entirely trusting Raistlin, he drew near to inspect the helm.
”Truly it is a helm fit for royalty,” he admitted. ”I've never seen the like!” He reached out his hand. ”If I could just-”
Sturm drew his sword and held it to Flint's breast.
”Do not go nearer!” Raistlin cautioned. ”You must understand, Flint. You are a hill dwarf. Prince Grallen takes you for the enemy he died fighting.”
”Understand!” Flint repeated angrily. Keeping a wary eye on Sturm, he raised his hands and backed away. ”I don't understand any of this.” He glowered at Raistlin. ”I agree with Tanis. This smacks of mage-work!”
”So it is,” said Raistlin coolly, ”but not mine.”
He explained that he had come across the helm quite by accident and how Sturm had seen him holding it and become enamored of it.
”The helm's enchantment was undoubtedly searching for a warrior, and when Sturm picked it up, the spell took hold of him. The magic is not evil. It will do him no harm, beyond borrowing his body for a short time. When we reach Thorbardin, the prince's soul will be home. The magic will probably release the knight, and he will go back to being the same grim and dour Sturm Brightblade we have always known.”
Tanis looked back at Sturm, who still had his sword drawn, still keeping a baleful eye on Flint.
”You say the magic will 'probably' release him,” he said to Raistlin.
”I did not cast the spell, Tanis. I have no way of knowing for certain.” He coughed again, paused, then said, ”Perhaps you don't understand the significance of this. Prince Grallen knows where to find the gates of Thorbardin.”
”Great Reorx's beard!” Flint exclaimed. ”The mage is right!”
”I told you the key to Thorbardin lay in Skullcap.”
”I never doubted you,” said Tanis, ”though I have to admit I was thinking more along the lines of a map.” He scratched his beard. ”The problem as I see it is how we keep the prince from killing Flint before we get there.”
”The prince thinks we're mercenaries. We could tell the prince that Flint is our prisoner,” Caramon suggested.
”You will do no such thing!” Flint roared.
”What about an emissary coming to talk peace terms?” Raistlin said.
Tanis looked at Flint, who felt called upon to argue, saying that no one in his right mind would believe it. At last, however, he gave a grudging nod. ”Tell him I'm a prince too, a prince of the Neidar.”
Tanis hid a smile and went to explain matters to Prince Grallen, who apparently found this acceptable, for Sturm slid his sword back into its sheathe and gave Flint a stiff bow.
”Now that that's settled,” said Caramon, ”do you two have anything to eat? We ran out of everything we brought.”
”I don't see how you can be hungry,” said Raistlin. He pressed his sleeve over his nose and mouth. ”The stench is appalling! We should at least move up wind.”
Tanis looked again around the ruined village, the pathetic, crumpled, and smoldering little bodies. ”Why would draconians do this? Why go to the trouble to slaughter gully dwarves?”
”To silence them, of course,” said Raistlin. ”They stumbled across something they should not have-some secret of the draconians or some secret the draconians were charged with protecting. Thus they had to die.”
”I wonder what that secret is,” Tanis mused, troubled.
”I doubt we will ever know,” Raistlin said, shrugging.
They left the village, returning to the road that led up the mountain to Thorbardin.
”I spoke a prayer over the poor gully dwarves,” said Ta.s.slehoff solemnly, coming up to walk beside Tanis. ”A prayer Elistan taught me. I commenced their souls to Paladine.”
”Commended,” Tanis corrected. ”Commended their souls.”
”That too,” said Tas, sighing.
”It was good of you to think of that,” said Tanis. ”None of the rest of us did.”
”You're busy thinking big things,” said Tas. ”I keep track of the small stuff.”
”By the way,” said Tanis, a sudden thought striking him, ”I left you back in camp! How did you come to be with Raistlin, Sturm and Caramon? I thought I told you to keep watch over Tika.”
”Oh, I did!” said Tas. ”Wait until you hear!”
He launched into the tale, to which Tanis listened with increasing grimness.
”Where's Tika? Why isn't she with you?”
”She went back to warn Riverwind,” said Ta.s.slehoff cheerfully.
”Alone?” Tanis turned to look at Caramon, who was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide his big body behind that of his twin.
”She sneaked off in the night, Tanis,” Caramon said defensively. ”Didn't she, Raist? We didn't know she left.”
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