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Dragons of Winter Noght by Weis, Margaret

“Laurana, you and Elistan go upstairs. Sturm, you and Gilthanas remain with me. The rest of you go to your rooms. Riverwind, you’re in command. You, Caramon, and Raistlin protect them. Use your magic, Raistlin, if necessary. Flint-”

“I’m staying with you,” the dwarf stated firmly.

Tanis smiled and put his hand on Flint’s shoulder. “Of course, old friend. I didn’t even think you needed telling.”

Grinning, Flint pulled his battle-axe out of its holder on his back. “Take this,” he said to Caramon. “Better you have it than any scurvy, lice-ridden city guards.”

“That’s a good idea.” Tanis said. Unbuckling his swordbelt, he handed Caramon Wyrmslayer, the magical sword given to him by the skeleton of Kith-Kanan, the Elven King.

Gilthanas silently handed over his sword and his elven bow.

“Yours, too, knight,” Caramon said, holding out his hand.

Sturm frowned. This antique, two-handed sword and its scabbard were the only legacy he had left of his father, a great Knight of Solamnia, who had vanished after sending his wife and young ran into exile. Slowly Sturm unbuckled his swordbelt and handed it to Caramon.

The jovial warrior, seeing the knight’s obvious concern, grew serious. “I’ll guard it carefully, you know that, Sturm.”

“I know.” Sturm said, smiling sadly. He glanced up at Raistlin, who was standing on the stairs. “Besides, there is always the great worm, Catyrpelius, to protect it, isn’t there, mage?”

Raistlin started at this unexpected reminder of a time in the burned-out city of Solace when he had tricked some hobgoblins into believing Sturm’s sword was cursed. It was the closest to an expression of gratitude that the knight had ever made to the mage. Raistlin smiled. Briefly.

“Yes,” he whispered. “there is always the Worm. Do not fear, knight. Your weapon is safe, as are the lives of those you leave in our care … if any are safe…. Farewell, my friends,” he hissed, his strange hourglass eyes gleaming. “And a long farewell it will be. Same of us are not destined to meet again in this world.” With that, he bowed and, gathering his red robes around him, began to climb the stairs.

Trust Raistlin to exit with a flourish, Tanis thought irritably, hearing boated feet near the door.

“Go on!” he ordered. “If he’s right, there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

After a hesitant look at Tanis, the others did as he ordered, climbing the stairs quickly. Only Laurana cast a fearful glance back at Tanis as Elistan took her arm. Caramon, sword drawn, waited behind until the last was past.

“Don’t worry,” the big warrior said uneasily. “We’ll be all right. If you’re not back by nightfall-”

“Don’t come looking for us!” Tanis said, guessing Caramon’s intention. The half-elf was more disturbed than he cared to admit by Raistlin’s ominous statement. He had known the mage many years and had seen his power grow, even as the shadows seemed to gather more thickly around him. “If we’re not back, get Elistan, Goldmoon, and the others back to Southgate .”

Caramon nodded reluctantly, then he walked ponderously up the stairs, his weapons clanking around him.

“It’s probably just a routine check,” Sturm said hurriedly in a low voice as the guards could be seen through the window now. “They’ll ask us a few questions, then release us. But, they’ve undoubtedly got a description of ally of us!”

“I have a feeling it isn’t routine. Not the way everyone’s vanished. And they’re going to have to settle for some of us.” Tanis said softly as the guards entered the door, led by the constable and accompanied by the guard from the wall.

“That’s them!” the guard cried, pointing. “There’s the knight, like I told you. And the bearded elf, the dwarf, and the kender, and an elflord.”

“Right,” the constable said briskly. “Now, where are the others?” At his gesture, his guards leveled their hauberks, pointing there at the companions.

“I don’t understand what all this is about.” Tanis said mildly. “We are strangers in Tarsis, simply passing through on our way south. Is this how you welcome strangers to your city?”

“We don’t welcome strangers to our city,” the constable replied. His gaze shifted to Sturm and he sneered. “Especially a Knight of Solamnia. If you’re innocent as you say you are, you won’t mind answering some questions from the Lord and his council. Where’s the rest of your party?”

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Categories: Weis, Margaret
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