Caramon didn’t. The barmaid hurried off and re-
49
DRAQONLANCE Pneluoes
turned shortly with a plate of food and a mug of ale, which she slapped down in front of Caramon, and a goblet of wine for Raistlin.
Caramon plunged into his dinner with gusto, slurping and chewing and shoveling rapidly. Earwig observed him in round-eyed admiration. Raistlin was watching with disgust when suddenly the mage’s attention focused on Caramon’s half-empty plate.
“Let me see that!” he said, snatching it away.
“Hey! I wasn’t finished! I—”
“You are now,” said Raistlin coldly, scrapping the rest of the food onto the floor.
“What is it? Show me!” Earwig scrambled around to sit beside the mage.
“It’s a poem,” said Raistlin, gazing at the surface of the plate with interest.
“A poem!” Caramon growled. “You ruined my dinner for a poem!”
Raistlin read it to himself, then handed it over to his brother.
/(is written, the land will know five ages,
but the last shall not come if darkness
succeeds, coming through the gate.
Darkness sends its agents, stealthy
and black, to find the gate, to
be there when the time arrives.
The cats alive are the turning
stone, they decide the fate,
darkness or light, in the
city that stands before
the first gods.
“Well?” said Raistlin.
“Cats, again,” answered Caramon, handing the plate back.
50
Bnotrjens Majeue
“Yes,” Raistlin murmured, “cats again.”
“Do you understand it?”
“Not entirely. Up to now, there have been four ages — the Age of Dreams, the Age of Light, the Age of Might, and the Age of Darkness, which we are in now. A new age coming . . .”
“But not ‘if darkness succeeds,’ ” said Caramon, reading the plate upside down.
“Yes. And ‘the cats alive are the turning stone.’ Interesting, my brother. Very interesting.” Raistlin placed the plate carefully down on the table, his lips pressed together in thought.
“Wait a minute!” said Earwig. “I just remembered something.”
Leaping up, he ran across to another table, grabbed hold of an empty plate, and brought it to the mage. “Look! Another poem! I found it when I’d finished my dinner.”
He plunked the plate down in front of Caramon, and, seeing the fighter absorbed in reading it, appropriated his mug of ale.
It is written,
the Lord of Cats
will come, aiding his
dominion, leading only
for them, following no other,
the agents for one and three.
The cats alive are the turning stone,
they decide the fate, darkness or light,
in the city that stands before the first gods.
” The city that stands before the first gods.’ ” Raistlin repeated, taking the plate from Caramon and reading it
DRAQONLANCE Pneluoes
again and again. He was always interested in stories and rumors of the first gods, the gods he truly believed still existed. “In all our travels, my brother, we’ve never come across anything like this! Perhaps here I’ll find the answers I seek!”
“Uh, Raist!” Caramon said warningly.
The other patrons had fallen deathly silent and were staring at the brothers and the kender with dark and angry expressions. A few were rising to their feet.
“What do you strangers think you’re doing? Mocking the prophecy?” demanded one, his hand clenched into a fist.
“We’re just reading it, that’s all,” began Caramon, face flushing. “Is that a crime?”
“It could be. And you won’t like the punishment.”
Caramon rose to his feet. He was one against twenty, but the big warrior was undaunted by the odds . He could see, out of the corner of his eye, his brother’s hand glide swiftly to the pouch Raistlin carried at his side— a pouch whose contents were as magical and mysterious as the man who used them.
“A fight?” asked Earwig, jumping up and down. The kender grabbed his hoopak. “Is there going to be a barroom brawl? I’ve never been in a barroom brawl before! Boy, Cousin Tas was right about you guys!”
“There’s no fighting in my establishment,” cried a stern voice. “Come now, Hamish and you, too, Bartoc, settle down.”
The innkeeper placed himself between Caramon and the crowd, making placating gestures with his hands. The men calmed down, resuming their seats and their gloomy conversation. Caramon, slowly and warily, returned to the table.