The ground in front of Haplo was suddenly littered with bowls and baskets and dishes and trays containing every type of luscious food imaginable: mounds of fragrant fruit, plates of steaming meat, bottles of wine, casks of foaming ale.
Clothing of all make and description billowed in the air like multicolored, silken birds, fluttered down to land at Alake’s feet, draped over Devon’s nerveless arms, sparkled in Grundle’s startled eyes. Caskets of emeralds and sapphires and pearls spilled their shining contents into the sand. Mounds of golden coins gleamed in the fire’s light.
Another fire sprang up in the distance, revealing a cave within a cave.
“It is warm and dry,” said the dragon-snake. Speaking to the mensch, it had switched to the human language. “We have filled it with sweet grasses for your beds. You must be exhausted and hungry.” It spoke in elven. “Please, take our gifts, retire for the night.” It concluded in dwarven. “You need have no fear. Your slumber will be safe, blessed. My people will guard it.”
The other dragon-snakes wove their bodies in a sinuous dance, the words “safe . . . blessed” hissed through the echoing cave.
The mensch, having expected death, torture, torment, were completely disarmed and bewildered by the lavish gifts. They stood staring, dazed and, if anything, more frightened.
Grundle was the first to recover her tongue. A circlet of silver had dropped out of the air, onto her head, over one eye. Floundering through a heap of cloth and mounds of food, she stomped over to Haplo.
Hands on her hips, she pointedly ignored the dragon-snakes, spoke to the Patryn as if no one else was on the beach except the two of them.
“What is all this? What’s going on? What are you two talking about in that dark language of yours?”
“The dragon-snake says there’s been a mistake. It’s trying to make amends. I think—” Haplo began, but he didn’t get far.
“Amends!” Grundle raised a clenched fist, whipped around to face the dragon-snake. “For destroying the sun-chasers, for butchering Alake’s people, for torturing that poor elf! I’ll give the beast amends. I’ll—”
Haplo caught hold of her, dragged her down, squirming and kicking. “Stop it, you little fool! You want to get us all killed?”
Panting, Grundle glared up at him. He held her fast until he felt the sturdy body relax in his grip.
“I’m all right now,” she told him sullenly.
He let her up. She crouched at his side, rubbing her bruised wrists. Haplo motioned to the other two to come join them.
“Listen to me, all of you!” he said. “I’m going to try to find out what’s going on. But in the meantime, you three will accept the dragon’s hospitality with a good grace. We might yet come out alive—you and your people. That’s why you came, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, Haplo,” said Alake. “We’ll do what you say.”
“I don’t suppose we have much choice, do we?” Devon asked, his words muffled by the wet scarf around his head.
Grundle nodded grudgingly. “But I still don’t trust them!” she added, shaking her whiskers at the snakes in defiance.
“Good.” Haplo smiled. “I don’t either. Keep your eyes and ears open, your mouths shut. Now, do as the dragon-snake suggests. Go to that cave. You and Alake and . . . uh—”
“Sabia.”
“Sabia. You three go into that cave and try to get some sleep. Take dry clothes with you and some wine and whatever else you want. Food, maybe.”
Grundle sniffed. “It’s probably poisoned.”
Haplo checked an exasperated sigh. “If they wanted to kill you, they could have dropped an ax on your head, instead of that.” He pointed to the silver crown, which had once more slipped down over one eye.
Removing the circlet, the dwarf regarded it suspiciously, then she shrugged.
“You make sense,” she said, sounding surprised.
Tossing the silver to the sand, she grabbed a basket of bread in one hand, hefted a small barrel of ale with the other, and trudged off toward the cave.
“Go with her,” Haplo told Alake, who was lingering near him. “You’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
“Yes, I know. I … I will take your clothes and dry them for you,” Alake offered.