Life was a dark shroud to the Solamnic Knight. He could not pretend to ever know or understand it except through the code of the knights he lived by. “Est Sularus oth Mithas”- “My honor is life.” The code defined honor and was more complete and detailed and strict than any known on Krynn. The code had held true for seven hundred years, but Sturm’s secret fear was that, someday, in the final battle, the code would have no answers. He knew that if that day came, Tanis would be at his side, holding the crumbling world together. For while Sturm followed the code, Tanis lived it.
Tanis’s voice brought the knight’s thoughts back to the present. “I remind all of you that this staff is not our ‘prize.’ The staff rightfully belongs to Goldmoon-if it belongs to anyone. We have no more right to it than the Theocrat in Solace.” Tanis turned to Goldmoon. “What is your will, lady?”
Goldmoon stared from Tanis to Sturm, then she looked at Riverwind. “You know my mind,” he said coldly. “But-you are Chieftain’s Daughter.” He rose to his feet. Ignoring her pleading gaze, he stalked outside.
“What did he mean?” Tanis asked.
“He wants us to leave you, take the staff to Haven,” Goldmoon answered, her voice low. “He says you are adding to our danger. We would be safer on our own.”
“Adding to your danger!” Flint exploded. “Why we wouldn’t be here, I wouldn’t have nearly drowned- again!-if it hadn’t been for-for-” The dwarf began to sputter in his rage.
Tanis held up his hand. “Enough.” He scratched his beard. “You will be safer with us. Will you accept our help?”
“I will,” Goldmoon answered gravely, “for a short distance at least.”
“Good,” Tanis said. “Tas, you know your way through Solace Vale. You are guide. And remember, we’re not on a picnic!”
“Yes, Tanis,” the kender said, subdued. He gathered his many pouches, hung them around his waist and over his shoulders. Passing Goldmoon, he knelt swiftly and patted her hand, then he was out the cave entrance. The rest hastily gathered their gear together and followed.
“It’s going to rain again,” Flint grumbled, glancing up at the lowering clouds. “I should have stayed in Solace.” Muttering, he walked off, adjusting his battle-axe on his back. Tanis, waiting for Goldmoon and Riverwind, smiled and shook his head. At least some things never changed, dwarves among them.
Riverwind took their packs from Goldmoon and slung them over his shoulder. “I have made certain the boat is well-hidden and secure,” he told Tanis. The stoic mask was in place again this morning. “In case we need it.”
“A good idea,” Tanis said. “Thank-”
“If you will go ahead.” Riverwind motioned. “I will come behind and cover our tracks.”
Tanis started to speak, to thank the Plainsman. But Riverwind had already turned his back and was beginning his work. Walking up the path, the half-elf shook his head. Behind him, he could hear Goldmoon speaking softly in her own language. Riverwind replied-one, harsh word. Tanis heard Goldmoon sigh, then all other words were lost in the sound of crackling brush as Riverwind obliterated all traces of their passing.
7
The story of the staff. Strange clerics. Eerie feelings.
The thick woods of Solace Vale were a green mass of vibrant life. Beneath the dense roof of the vallenwoods flourished thistlebrush and greenwall. The ground was crisscrossed with the bothersome tangleshoot vines. These had to be trod on with great care or they would suddenly snake around an ankle, trapping the helpless victim until he was devoured by one of the many predatory animals lurking in the Vale, thus providing the tangleshoot with what it needed to live-blood.
It took over an hour of hacking and chopping through the brush to get to the Haven Road. All of them were scratched, torn, and tired, and the long stretch of smooth-packed dirt that carried travelers to Haven or beyond was a welcome sight. It wasn’t until they stopped just in sight of the road and rested that they realized there were no sounds. A hush had fallen over the land, as if every creature were holding its breath, waiting. Now that they had reached the road, no one was particularly eager to step out of the shelter of the brush.