had SOLAMNIA written on the top. The mountains were
missing, and the map showed Caergoth to be an inland city,
while Matya knew very well that it stood on the coast.
Some features had been added to the map in a bold,
scrawling hand, and Matya suspected these were the
kender’s own additions. Among other things, the kender’s
scrawls showed the highways leading to Garnet and
Caergoth, and the crossroads as well.
“Now where is it?” Matya muttered, running a finger over
the yellowed, cracking vellum. “It has to be here.” Then she
found what she sought. Written in small, faded letters was
the word TAMBOR. By the markings on the map, the
village of Tambor was no more than ten miles north and
east of the crossroads. “But that would put it in the foothills
of the mountains, though this map shows southern Solamnia
to be nothing but plains,” she added in disgust.
The kender had written something beside the spot
marked TAMBOR. She had to squint to make out the
scrawling words. They read, DEESTROYD IN
KATAKLISM. Matya mumbled an oath under her breath.
If this was true, then the village the knight sought had
been destroyed more than fifty years ago. So much for his
plea for help! A liar, as she’d suspected. She didn’t know
why that hurt her.
Trevarre called out. Matya hastily put away the maps.
She found the knight still sitting by the wagon wheel. The
porcelain doll stood on the ground before him.
“It is almost time,” he said, nodding toward the west. A
pearly glow had touched the distant horizon. Solinari, the
largest of Krynn’s three moons, soon would rise.
Matya sat on a fallen log near the knight, eyes on the
doll. While she did not believe Trevarre’s story, she was
curious to see what he would do when the doll failed to
speak.
“Wait,” Trevarre said softly. “Just wait.”
Matya sighed, resting her chin on a hand, and waited.
This was rapidly growing tedious. Finally, a thin, silvery
sliver of Solinari lifted above the far-off horizon.
The doll began to sing.
Matya stared at the porcelain statuette in shock. The
maiden’s lips moved. A sweet, wordless song drifted upon
the night air. There was no doubt but that the song came
from the doll.
Matya shot a look at Trevarre. The knight’s pale eyes
were triumphant. The song continued, a sad melody that
tugged at Matya’s heart. Finally the sweet music ended, and
the doll spoke.
“Please, come to me, whoever finds me,” it said, its
voice cool and lilting but filled with sorrow as well. “I beg
you. Come to the village of Tambor. I need help
desperately. Please”
Solinari lifted full above the horizon, and the doll fell
silent. Matya’s eyes glimmered as she stared at it calculatingly.
“An enchanted doll!” she said to herself. “Why, it is worth
a king’s ransom.”
“Do you believe my tale now?” Trevarre asked, a slight
smile beneath his mousy moustache.
Matya nodded. “I believe you.” She was glad to believe
in him, too, but she didn’t tell him that.
“I have something to ask of you,” the knight said. “It
appears my legs are set on betraying me. I cannot journey to
Tambor on foot, but your wagon could carry me. Take me
there, Matya. Take me to Tambor, please.”
“And what would I gain for my trouble?” Matya asked
coolly.
Trevarre reached inside the collar of his woolen cloak
and undid the clasp. He held it out to her. “Will this do?”
The clasp was fashioned of finely wrought silver, inlaid
with pearl and lapis lazuli. Matya appraised it with a
practiced eye. The jewel obviously was quite valuable. By
any measure, the trade would be a good one, but it was not
enough.
“Give me the doll as well,” Matya said crisply, “then I
will take you to Tambor.”
Trevarre gazed at her for a long moment, but Matya did
not so much as blink. Finally he laughed. “You drive a hard
bargain, I see. It appears I have little choice but to accept.
Very well, I will give you the doll – but only after we reach
Tambor.”
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