“How splendid! How do they do that?” Tasslehoff cried, peering underneath the cloth. “There’s nothing under there!” he reported, his eyes wide. The centaurs laughed uproariously and even the Forestmaster smiled. Next the centaurs laid down plates made of beautifully cut and polished wood. Each guest was given a knife and fork fashioned from the horns of a deer. Platters of hot roasted meat filled the air with a tantalizing smoky aroma. Fragrant loaves of bread and huge wooden bowls of fruit glistened in the soft lamplight.
Caramon, feeling secure in his chair, rubbed his hands together. Then he grinned broadly and picked up his fork. “Ahhhh!” He sighed in appreciation as one of the centaurs set before him a platter of roasted deer meat. Caramon plunged his fork in, sniffing in rapture at the steam and juice that gushed forth from the meat. Suddenly he realized everyone was staring at him. He stopped and looked around.
“Wha-?” he asked, blinking. Then his eyes rested on the Forestmaster and he flushed and hurriedly removed his fork. “I … I beg your pardon. This deer must have been someone you knew-I mean-one of your subjects.”
The Forestmaster smiled gently. “Be at ease, warrior,” she said. The deer fulfills his purpose in life by providing sustenance for the hunter-be it wolf or man. We do not mourn the loss of those who die fulfilling their destinies.”
It seemed to Tanis that the Forestmaster’s dark eyes went to Sturm as she spoke, and there was a deep sadness in them that filled the half-elf’s heart with cold fear. But when he turned back to the Forestmaster, he saw the magnificent animal smiling once more. “My imagination,” he thought.
“How do we know, Master,” Tanis asked hesitantly, “whether the life of any creature has fulfilled its destiny? I have known the very old to die in bitterness and despair. I have seen young children die before their time but leave behind such a legacy of love and joy that grief for their passing was tempered by the knowledge that their brief lives had given much to others.”
“You have answered your own question, Tanis Half-Elven, far better than I could,” the Forestmaster said gravely. “Say that our lives are measured not by gain but by giving.”
The half-elf started to reply but the Forestmaster interrupted. “Put your cares aside for now. Enjoy the peace of my forest while you may. Its time is passing.”
Tanis glanced sharply at the Forestmaster, but the great animal had turned her attention away from him and was staring far off into the woods, her eyes clouded with sorrow. The half-elf wondered what she meant, and he sat, lost in dark thoughts until he felt a gentle hand touch his.
“You should eat,” Goldmoon said. “Your cares won’t vanish with the meal-and, if they do, so much the better.”
Tanis smiled at her and began to eat with a sharp appetite. He took the Forestmaster’s advice and relegated his worries to the back of his mind for a while. Goldmoon was right; they weren’t likely to go away.
The rest of the companions did the same, accepting the strangeness of their surroundings with the aplomb of seasoned travelers. Though there was nothing to drink but water-much to Flint’s disappointment-the cool, clear liquid washed the terrors and doubts from their hearts as it had cleansed the blood and dirt from their hands. They laughed, talked, and ate, enjoying each other’s companionship. The Forestmaster spoke to them no more but watched each in turn.
Sturm’s pale face had regained some color. He ate with grace and dignity Sitting next to Tasslehoff, he answered the kender’s inexhaustible store of questions about his homeland. He also, without calling undue attention to the fact, removed from Tasslehoff’s pouch a knife and fork that had unaccountably made their way there. The knight sat as far from Caramon as possible and did his best to ignore him.
The big warrior was obviously enjoying his meal. He ate three times more than anyone else, three times as fast, and three times as loudly. When not eating, he described to Flint a fight with a troll, using the bone he was chewing on as a sword to illustrate his thrusts and parries. Flint ate heartily and told Caramon he was the biggest liar in Krynn.