“Washit?” he mumbled, trying to focus his eyes.
“Draconians!” Tasslehoff screeched, hopping around like a
small demon, waving his firebrand and his knife with such
vigor that he actually succeeded in keeping his enemies at bay.
“Draconians?” Caramon muttered, staring around in disbe-
lief. Then he caught a glimpse of a twisted reptilian face in the
light of the dying fire. His eyes opened wide. “Draconians!” he
snarled. “Tanis! Sturm! Come to me! Raistlin – your magic!
We’ll take them.”
Yanking his sword from its scabbard, Caramon plunged
ahead with a rumbling battle cry – and fell flat on his face.
Bupu clung to his foot.
“Oh, no!” Tas groaned.
Caramon lay on the ground, blinking and shaking his head
in wonder, trying to figure out what hit him. Bupu, rudely
awakened, began to howl in terror and pain, then bit Caramon
on the ankle.
Tas started forward to help the fallen warrior – at least drag
Bupu off him – when he heard a cry. Lady Crysania! Damn!
He’d forgotten about her! Whirling around, he saw the cleric
struggling with one of the dragonmen.
Tas hurtled forward and stabbed viciously at the draconian.
With a shriek, it let loose of Crysania and fell backward, its
body turning to stone at Tas’s feet. Just in time, the kender
remembered to retrieve his knife or the stony corpse would
have kept it fast.
Tas dragged Crysania back with him toward the fallen Cara-
mon, who was trying to shake the gully dwarf off his leg.
The draconians closed in. Glancing about feverishly, Tas saw
they were surrounded by the creatures. But why weren’t they
attacking full force? What were they waiting for?
“Are you all right?” he managed to ask Crysania.
“Yes,” she said. Though very pale, she appeared calm and – if
frightened – was keeping her fear under control. Tas saw her
lips move – presumably in silent prayer. The kender’s own lips
tightened.
“Here, lady,” he said, shoving the firebrand in her hand. “I
guess you’re going to have to fight and pray at the same time.”
“Elistan did. So can I,” Crysania said, her voice shaking only
slightly.
Shouted commands rang out from the shadows. The voice
wasn’t draconian. Tas couldn’t make it out. He only knew that
just hearing it gave him cold chills. But there wasn’t time to
wonder about it. The draconians, their tongues flicking out of
their mouths, jumped for them.
Crysania lashed out with the smoldering brand clumsily, but
it was enough to make the draconians hesitate. Tas was still try-
ing to pry Bupu off Caramon. But it was a draconian who,
inadvertantly, came to their aid. Shoving Tas backward, the
dragonman laid a clawed hand on Bupu.
Gully dwarves are noted throughout Krynn for their extreme
cowardice and total unreliability in battle. But – when driven
into a corner – they can fight like rabid rats.
“Glupsludge!” Bupu screamed in anger and, turning from
gnawing on Caramon’s ankle, she sank her teeth into the scaly
hide of the draconian’s leg.
Bupu didn’t have many teeth, but what she did have were
sharp, and she bit into the draconian’s green flesh with a relish
occasioned by the fact that she hadn’t eaten much dinner.
The draconian gave a hideous yell. Raising its sword, it was
about to end Bupu’s days upon Krynn when Caramon –
bumbling around trying to see what was going on –
accidentally sliced off the creature’s arm. Bupu sat back, licking
her lips, and looked about eagerly for another victim.
“Hurrah! Caramon!” Tas cheered wildly, his small knife stab-
bing here and there as swiftly as a striking snake. Lady Crysa-
nia smashed one draconian with her firebrand, crying out the
name of Paladine. The creature pitched over.
There were only two or three draconians still standing that
Tas could see, and the kender began to feel elated. The crea-
tures lurked just outside the firelight, eyeing the big warrior,
Caramon, warily as he staggered to his feet. Seen only in the
shadows, he still cut the menacing figure he had in the old days.
His sword blade gleamed wickedly in the red flames.
“Get ’em, Caramon!” Tas yelled shrilly. “Clunk their heads -“