Part 26 (2/2)
”Put the helm on your head,” said Raistlin.
Kharas cast the helm an appalled glance. ”No dwarf would dare! The Council will judge how best to proceed.”
”I'll put it on!” Ta.s.slehoff offered, but no one took him up on it.
”I have no need to prove to this Council or anyone that I am not a liar!” Flint was so angry he could barely speak. He whipped around to face his friends. ”I told all of you it was a mistake to come here! I don't know what the rest of you plan to do, but I'm leaving! And seeing as how this helm is not wanted here, I'm taking it with me!”
Flint tucked the helm under his arm and stalked off down the corridor, heading toward the ruined gate.
”Stop him!” ordered Arman Kharas. He made a commanding gesture. ”Seize them!”
His soldiers were already on the move. Sturm looked down at a dwarven spear tickling his throat. Tanis felt something sharp jab him in the back. Caramon raised his fists. Raistlin said something to him, and Caramon, glowering at the dwarves, let his arms fall to his sides. Ta.s.slehoff made a swipe with his hoopak, but a dwarf kicked the weapon out of the kender's hand, and grasping Tas by the hair, put his knife to Tas's neck.
Hearing the commotion behind him, Flint turned around. He was red-faced with fury, the veins in his head popping. Placing the Helm of Grallen at his feet, he stood over it protectively, and raised his battle axe.
”I'll send the soul of the first dwarf who comes near me to the hall of his fathers, Reorx take me if I don't!”
Arman Kharas spoke a sharp command, and four dwarves went after Flint, weapons drawn.
”He's going to get us all killed, Tanis!” Raistlin warned.
Tanis shouted for Flint to stop, but the outraged hill dwarf was cursing, swearing, and swinging his axe in vicious arcs, and either he could not hear or he was ignoring Tanis's command. The dwarf soldiers prodded at him with their spears. Flint struck at them with his axe. All the while, another solider had slipped up behind him. The soldier thrust out his foot, tripping Flint, who went over backward. The other soldiers jumped on him. One s.n.a.t.c.hed away his axe. The others pinned his hand and feet.
”Thorbardin treachery! I expected it! I warned you of this, Tanis!” Flint bellowed, struggling to free himself, to no avail. ”I told you they would treat us this way!”
Once Flint's hands were bound, the soldiers hoisted him to his feet, still cursing and raving. All of them, Kharas included, eyed the Helm of Grallen that stood on the floor where Flint had placed it. None of them made any move to go near it, much less touch it.
”I will carry it,” Raistlin offered.
Kharas appeared tempted to accept, but he shook his head.
”No,” he said. ”If this curse is come to Thorbardin, let it fall on me.”
He reached down for the helm. The other dwarves backed away from him, watching in dread antic.i.p.ation, certain something dire was about to happen.
Kharas clasped the helm, involuntarily wincing as he touched it.
Nothing happened.
He lifted the helm, placed it under his arm, wiped the sweat from his face. He gestured to the companions. ”Take their weapons and tie them up securely.”
Dwarves bound their hands, all except Raistlin, who forbade them to touch him. They glanced at him askance, glanced at each other, and let him be. Arman stopped to gently a.s.sist the sickly dwarf to his feet then led the way through the darkened hall.
Tanis, prodded from behind by a spear, followed.
”I don't suppose this would be a good time to ask them to provide shelter for eight hundred humans,” Raistlin murmured, coming up behind him.
Tanis flashed him a grim glance.
The dwarf behind Tanis prodded him again in the back. ”Keep moving, sc.u.m!” he ordered in Dwarvish.
They kept moving deeper into the mountain, bearing the doom of the dwarves-and most likely their own-along with them.
Chapter 3.
Faith. Hope. And Hederick.
The refugees trekked through the narrow pa.s.s. The going was slow and wearisome, for they had to pick their way among the rocks and crags, always keeping one eye on the gray and cloud-choked sky above them. They could see no dragons, but they could feel their constant presence. The dragonfear that radiated from the beasts was not strong, for the dragons flew high overhead, hidden by the clouds, but the fear was an added weight on their hearts, an added burden on their souls and slowed the people down.
”The pa.s.s is too dangerous for the dragons to enter. Why should they bother?” Riverwind said to Elistan, ”They have only to wait for us to emerge from this pa.s.s, which we must do sooner or later, for we do not have the supplies to remain here long. Once we move out into the open, they will attack us, and we have no idea how far we are from Thorbardin, or even if there will be a refuge for us when we get there.”
”I feel the fear,” Elistan replied, ”like a shadow over my heart, yet, my friend, shadows are caused by sunlight behind them. Other eyes look down on us and watch over us. It might be well to remind the people of that.”
”Then you'd first better remind me,” Riverwind said. ”My faith in the G.o.ds is being sorely tested. I admit it.”
”Mine, as well,” said Elistan calmly, and Riverwind regarded the cleric in astonishment.
Elistan smiled. ”You seem surprised to hear me say that. Faith in the G.o.ds does not come easily, my friend. We cannot see them or hear them. They do not walk beside us, like overprotective parents, coddling and cosseting us, holding us by the hand lest we trip and fall. I think we would soon grow angry and rebellious if they did.”
”Isn't it wrong to doubt them?”
”Doubt is natural. We are mortal. Our minds are the size of this small pebble compared to the minds of the G.o.ds that are as large as all heaven. The G.o.ds know that we have no way to comprehend their vision. They are patient with us and forbearing.”
”Yet they hurled a fiery mountain down on the world as punishment,” said Riverwind. ”Thousands died and thousands more suffered as a result. How are we to account for that?”
”We cannot,” said Elistan simply. ”We can feel sorrow and anger. That is perfectly natural. I am angry when I think back on it. I do not understand why the G.o.ds did this. I question them constantly.”
”Yet you remain faithful to them.” Riverwind marveled. ”You love them.”
”When you have children, will they never grow angry at you? Never doubt you or defy you? Do you want your children to be meek and submissive, always look to you for answers, obey you without question?”
”Of course not,” said Riverwind. ”Such weak children would never be able to make their own way in the world.”
”Would you love your children if they defied you, rebelled against you?”
”I would be angry with them, but I would love them,” said Riverwind quietly, and his gaze went to Goldmoon, moving among the people, speaking to them softly, bringing them comfort and ease, ”for they are my children.”
”So do the G.o.ds of light love us.”
One of the Plainsmen was hovering near, not wanting to break in on their conversation, yet obviously the bearer of important news. Riverwind turned to him, signing to Elistan that he was to remain.
”Yes, Nighthawk, what is it?”
”The trail marked by the half-elf and the dwarf continues down this mountain into a pine forest, then ascends into the mountain along a narrow defile. The elf, Gilthanas, who has the eyes of the eagle, can see a gaping hole in the side of the mountain. He believes this could be the fabled gate of Thorbardin.”
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