Brothers Majere by Weis, Margaret

“We are?” said Caramon dubiously.

“Yes. Rooms have been arranged for you at Barnstoke Hall.”

“How did anyone know we wouid be com — ” Caramon began, but fell silent when he felt his brother’s hand close over his arm.

The sergeant handed Caramon an ornate scrollcase. “Here. This is for you.”

Caramon handed it to his twin, who hid it within his robes.

“Where might we find the home of Councillor Shavas?” inquired Raistlin.

“Councillor Shavas ‘s house is in the exact center of town. Follow any of the main roads. They all lead right to it. The lodging-house, Barnstoke Hall, is on this road, just a short distance away.”

Raistlin had begun to cough again. Caramon took his brother’s arm.

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BRotliens Majene

“Thank you. Sergeant. We’ll be going now,” the warrior said. They walked slowly up the street, leaving the guards to stare after them, shaking their heads and muttering in low voices.

Absorbed in discussing the arrival of a wizard, the guards never noticed a dark form scale the white walls of Mereklar. The figure, dressed all in black, used no ropes or tools of any kind, but climbed the wall with ease, finding foot- and hand-holds in the carvings. Gliding over the top of the wall, he dropped down lightly onto the street below, landing silently on all fours. Keeping to the shadows, he slinked past the guards and crept down the street, keeping the companions in his sight.

“How the devil did anyone in Mereklar know we were coming?” Caramon demanded when his brother could breathe again.

“The man standing in the shadows,” Raistlin whispered. “He was at the inn with us. Remember the horse’s hoofprints on the road?”

“Was he?” Caramon glanced around, pausing. “Maybe I should go back and—”

“No, you shouldn’t!” snapped Raistlin. “I’m growing weaker by the moment. Would you leave me to die in the gutter?”

“No, Raist. Of course not,” said Caramon patiently, helping his brother through the quiet streets.

Every building was constructed of the same white stone as the walls, every street was a perfect white slate, smooth and even. It seemed to have all been carved from a single mountain of rock.

“Flint would love this place,” muttered Caramon.

“Hey! Look at that!” Earwig cried, pointing.

Motes of light were swelling out of the ground like water bubbling up from moist soil. After a few moments,

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DRAQONLANCE PnelUoes

the lights began to rise into the air, hovering above the walks and streets, flooding them with a radiant glow that illuminated the way for late-night travelers.

The lights were wasted tonight, however. No one was about, a fact Caramon thought strange, considering that it was not yet late. He peered constantly down the shadowy alleys and glanced sharply into each dark doorway they passed. The sharp-eyed kender noticed the warrior’s nervousness.

“Do you think someone’s going to jump out at us, Caramon?” Earwig asked eagerly. “You owe me a fight, you know, since you let me sleep through the one in the—”

“Keep quiet, kender!” Raistlin snarled.

Caramon glanced around. “Raist,” he said in a low voice, for his brother’s ears alone, “someone tried to stop us from coming to Mereklar that night. Why haven’t they tried again?”

The mage nodded his head wearily. “A good question, my brother. Look at it this way. That night, no one knew we were coming to Mereklar except the assassin. We may assume, I believe, that someone saw you remove the sign from the post at the crossroads. If we had died that night—” The mage coughed, struggled to draw breath.

“If we had died that night,” he repeated, when he could talk, “no would have known or cared. But, when we reached the inn, we made no secret of our interest in this city. People knew we were coming. If anything had happened to us on the way, questions would have been asked. Curiosity aroused.”

“That’s true,” said Caramon, regarding his brother with admiration. “So you think we’re safe now?”

Raistlin looked down at the white line, shimmering at his feet. It was very bright. He could see it clearly. No need for wine in his eyes. “No, Caramon, I do not—”

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