hand.
Tanis said something in a low voice to Lord Gunthar.
Lord Gunthar nodded his head and announced that this
might be a convenient time for the knights to all go down
to the tomb and pray and rededicate themselves to fighting
evil. The knights thought so, too, and off they went. That
cleared a lot of people out of the room.
Lord Gunthar next said that he thought all the other
guests should go to dinner, and Caramon saw to it that the
other guests did, whether they wanted to or not. That
cleared out about everyone else. I couldn’t go to the Tomb
and I wasn’t hungry and my legs felt wobbly, so I stayed.
“Will my father be all right?” Gwynfor was asking
Lady Crysania. Theros Ironfeld was standing over Owen,
looking down at the knight with the grimmest expression
I’d ever seen Theros wear.
“Yes, my lord,” Crysania said, turning in the direction
of Gwynfor’s voice. (Lady Crysania is blind. That is
another interesting story, only kind of sad, so I won’t tell it
here.) “He is in Paladine’s hands.”
“Perhaps we should leave,” suggested Tanis.
But Lady Crysania shook her head. “No. I would like
you all to stay. There is something very wrong here.”
I could have told her THAT!
“I’ve done what I could to heal him, but Sir
Glendower’s affliction isn’t in his body. It’s in his mind.
Paladine has given me to know that there is a secret locked
inside the knight, a secret he’s been carrying by himself for
a long, long time. Unless we can discover the secret and
free him of it, I’m afraid he will not recover.”
“If Paladine’s given you to know the knight has a
secret, why doesn’t Paladine just tell you what the damn
secret is?” Tanis asked, and he sounded a bit testy. He gets
put out at the gods sometimes.
Laurana cleared her throat and gave him one of Those
Looks that married people give each other sometimes. One
reason I’ve never been married myself.
“Paladine has done so,” said Lady Crysania with a
smile.
And you may believe this or not, but she turned her
head and looked straight at me, even though she couldn’t
see me and she couldn’t have had any idea that I was in the
room for I was being as quiet as the time I accidentally
turned myself into a mouse.
“Tasslehoff!” Tanis said, and he didn’t sound at all
pleased. “Do you know anything about this?”
“Me?” I asked, looking around. I didn’t think it likely
he could have been talking to any other Tasslehoff, but I
could always hope.
He meant me, however.
“Yeeessss,” I said, drawing out the word a long time,
as long as possible, and not looking at him. I don’t like it
when he looks so stern. “But I promised not to tell.”
Tanis sighed. “All right, Tas. You promised not to
tell. Now I’m certain you must have told this story a dozen
times since then so it won’t hurt if you tell it – ”
“No, Tanis.” I interrupted him, which was not very po
lite, but he truly had it all wrong. I looked up at him and I
was extremely solemn and serious. “I haven’t told. Not
ever. Not anyone. I promised, you see.”
He stared at me real hard. Then his eyes crinkled. He
looked worried. Kneeling down, he put his hand on my
shoulder. “You haven’t told anyone?”
“No, Tanis,” I said, and for some reason a tear slid out
of my eye. “I never have. I promised him I wouldn’t.”
“Promised who?”
“Fizban,” I said.
Tanis groaned. (I told you, he always groans when I
mention FB.)
“I, too, know,” said a voice unexpectedly.
And at this we all turned to look at Theros. And he
was as grim and dour and stern as I’ve ever seen Theros,
who is usually quite nice, even if he does pick me up by
the topknot sometimes, which isn’t at all dignified.
“Sir Owen Glendower and I have discussed it between
ourselves, often, each looking for his own truth. I have
found mine. And I thought he had found his. Perhaps I