Dragonlance Tales II, Vol. 2 – The Cataclysm

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.”