Part 33 (2/2)
”How are we going to even get to the harbor, much less buy pa.s.sage on a s.h.i.+p?” Caramon asked as they settled into their shabby rooms. ”What's going on?”
”The innkeeper says a Dragon Highlord is in town. The draconians are searching for spies or something,” Tanis muttered uncomfortably. The companions exchanged glances.
”Maybe they're searching for us,” us,” Caramon said. Caramon said.
”That's ridiculous!” Tanis answered quickly-too quickly. ”We're getting spooked. How could anyone know we're here? Or know what we carry?”
”I wonder...” Riverwind said grimly, glancing at Raistlin.
The mage returned his glance coolly, not deigning to answer. ”Hot water for my drink,” he instructed Caramon.
”There's only one way I can think of,” Tanis said, as Caramon brought his brother the water as ordered. ”Caramon and I will go out tonight and waylay two of the dragonarmy soldiers. We'll steal their uniforms. Not the draconians-” he said hastily, as Caramon's brow wrinkled in disgust. ”The human mercenaries. Then we can move around Flotsam freely.”
After some discussion, everyone agreed it was the only plan that seemed likely to work. The companions ate dinner without much appet.i.te-dining in their rooms rather than risk going into the common room.
”You'll be all right?” Caramon asked Raistlin uneasily when the two were alone in the room they shared.
”I am quite capable of taking care of myself,” Raistlin replied. Rising to his feet, he had picked up a spellbook to study, when a fit of coughing doubled him over.
Caramon reached out his hand, but Raistlin flinched away.
”Be gone!” the mage gasped. ”Leave me be!”
Caramon hesitated, then he sighed. ”Sure, Raist,” he said, and left the room, shutting the door gently behind him.
Raistlin stood for a moment, trying to catch his breath. Then he moved slowly across the room, setting down the spellbook. With a trembling hand, he picked up one of the many sacks that Caramon had placed on the table beside his bed. Opening it, Raistlin carefully withdrew the dragon orb.
Tanis and Caramon-the half-elf keeping his hood pulled low over his face and ears-walked the streets of Flotsam, watching for two guards whose uniforms might fit them. This would have been relatively easy for Tanis, but finding a guard whose armor fit the giant Caramon was more difficult.
They both knew they had better find something quickly. More than once, draconians looked them over suspiciously. Two draconians even stopped them, insisting roughly on knowing their business. Caramon replied in the crude mercenary dialect that they were seeking employment in the Dragon Highlord's army, and the draconians let them go. But both men knew it was only a matter of time before a patrol caught them.
”I wonder what's going on?” Tanis muttered worriedly.
”Maybe the war's heating up for the Highlords,” Caramon began. ”There, look, Tanis. Going into that bar-”
”I see. Yeah, he's about your size. Duck into that alley. We'll wait until they come out, then-” The half-elf made a motion of wringing a neck. Caramon nodded. The two slipped through the filthy streets and vanished into the alley, hiding where they could keep on eye on the front door of the bar.
It was nearly midnight. The moons would not rise tonight. The rain had ceased, but clouds still obscured the sky. The two men crouched in the alley were soon s.h.i.+vering, despite their heavy cloaks. Rats skittered across their feet, making them cringe in the darkness. A drunken hobgoblin took a wrong turn and lurched past them, falling headfirst into a pile of garbage. The hobgoblin did not get back up again and the stench nearly made Tanis and Caramon sick, but they dared not leave their vantage point.
Then they heard welcome sounds-drunken laughter and human voices speaking Common. The two guards they had been waiting for lurched out of the bar and staggered toward them.
A tall iron brazier stood on the sidewalk, lighting the night. The mercenaries lurched into its light, giving Tanis a close look at them. Both were officers in the dragonarmy, he saw. Newly promoted, he guessed, which may have been what they were celebrating. Their armor was s.h.i.+ning new, relatively clean, and undented. It was good armor, too, he saw with satisfaction. Made of blue steel, it was fas.h.i.+oned after the style of the Highlords' own dragon-scale armor.
”Ready?” Caramon whispered. Tanis nodded.
Caramon drew his sword. ”Elven sc.u.m!” he roared in his deep, barrel-chested ba.s.s. ”I've found you out, and now you'll come with me to the Dragon Highlord, spy!”
”You'll never take me alive!” Tanis drew his own sword.
At the sound of their voices, the two officers staggered to a stop, peering bleary-eyed into the dark alley.
The officers watched with growing interest as Caramon and Tanis made a few pa.s.ses at each other, maneuvering themselves into position. When Caramon's back was to the officers and Tanis was facing them, the half-elf made a sudden move. Disarming Caramon, he sent the warrior's sword flying.
”Quick! Help me take him!” Caramon bellowed. ”There's a reward out for him-dead or alive!”
The officers never hesitated. Fumbling drunkenly for their weapons, they headed for Tanis, their faces twisted into expressions of cruel pleasure.
”That's it! Nail 'im!” Caramon urged, waiting until they were past him. Then-just as they raised their swords-Caramon's huge hands encircled their necks. He slammed their heads together, and the bodies slumped to the ground.
”Hurry!” Tanis grunted. He dragged one body by the feet away from the light. Caramon followed with the other. Quickly they began to strip off the armor.
”Phew! This one must have been half-troll,” Caramon said, waving his hand to clear the air of the foul smell.
”Quit complaining!” Tanis snapped, trying to figure out how the complex system of buckles and straps worked. ”At least you're used to wearing this stuff. Give me a hand with this, will you?”
”Sure.” Caramon, grinning, helped to buckle Tanis into the armor. ”An elf in plate armor. What's the world coming to?”
”Sad times,” Tanis muttered. ”When are we supposed to meet that s.h.i.+p captain William told you about?”
”He said we could find her on board around daybreak.”
”The name's Maquesta Kar-thon,” said the woman, her expression cool and businesslike. ”And-let me guess-you're not not officers in the dragonarmy. Not unless they're hiring elves these days.” officers in the dragonarmy. Not unless they're hiring elves these days.”
Tanis flushed, slowly drawing off the helm of the officer. ”Is it that obvious?”
The woman shrugged. ”Probably not to anyone else. The beard is very good-perhaps I should say half-elf, of course. And the helm hides your ears. But unless you get a mask, those pretty, almond shaped eyes of yours are a dead giveaway. But then, not many draconians are apt to look into your pretty eyes, are they?” Leaning back in her chair, she put a booted foot on a table, and regarded him coolly.
Tanis heard Caramon chuckle, and felt his skin burn.
They were on board the Perechon Perechon, sitting in the captain's cabin, across from the captain herself. Maquesta Kar-thon was one of the dark-skinned race living in Northern Ergoth. Her people had been sailors for centuries and, it was popularly believed, could speak the languages of seabirds and dolphins. Tanis found himself thinking of Theros Ironfeld as he looked at Maquesta. The woman's skin was s.h.i.+ning black, her hair tightly curled and bound with a gold band around her forehead. Her eyes were brown and s.h.i.+ning as her skin. But there was the glint of steel from the dagger at her belt, and the glint of steel in her eyes.
”We're here to discuss business, Captain Maque-” Tanis stumbled over the strange name.
”Sure you are,” the woman said. ”And call me Maq. Easier for both of us. It's well you have this letter from Pig-faced William, or I wouldn't have even talked to you. But he says you're square and your money's good, so I'll listen. Now, where're you bound?”
Tanis exchanged glances with Caramon. That was the question. Besides, he wasn't certain he wanted either of their destinations known. Palanthas was the capital city of Solamnia, while Sancrist was a well-known haven of the Knights.
”Oh, for the love of-” Maq snapped, seeing them hesitate. Her eyes flared. Removing her foot from the table, she stared at them grimly. ”You either trust me or you don't!”
”Should we?” Tanis asked bluntly.
Maq raised an eyebrow. ”How much money do you have?”
”Enough,” Tanis said. ”Let's just say that we want to go north, around the Cape of Nordmaar. If, at that point, we still find each other's company agreeable, we'll go on. If not, we'll pay you off, and you put us in a safe harbor.”
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