'Here we are,' cried Tas's cheerful voice. A tall, young, redhaired girl loomed behind him, carrying a tray of mugs.
Caramon grinned. 'Now, Tanis,' he boomed, 'guess who this is. You, too, Flint. If you win, I'll buy this round.'
Glad to take his mind off Raistlin's dark tale, Tanis stared at the laughing girl. Red hair curled around her face, her green eyes danced with fun, freckles were lightly smattered across her nose and cheeks. Tanis seemed to remember the eyes, but beyond that he was blank.
'I give up,' he said. 'But then, to elves humans seem to change so rapidly that we lose track. I am one hundred and two, yet seem no more than thirty to you. And to me those hundred years seem as thirty. This young woman must have been a child when we left.'
'I was fourteen.' The girl laughed and set the tray down on the table. 'And Caramon used to say I was so ugly my father would have to pay someone to marry me.'
'Tika!' Flint slammed his fist on the table. 'You're buying, you great oaf!' He pointed at Caramon.
'No fair!' The giant laughed. 'She gave you a clue.'
'Well, the years have proved him wrong,' Tanis said, smiling. 'I've traveled many roads and you're one of the prettiest girls I've seen on Krynn.'
Tika blushed with pleasure. Then her face darkened. 'By the way, Tanis'-she reached in her pocket and drew forth a cylindrical object-'this arrived for you today. Under strange circumstances.'
Tanis frowned and reached for the object. It was a small scrollcase made of black, highly polished wood. He slowly removed a thin piece of parchment and unrolled it. His heart thudded painfully at sight of the bold, black handwriting.
'It's from Kitiara,' he said finally, knowing his voice sounded strained and unnatural. 'She's not coming.'
There was a moment's silence. 'That's done it,' Flint said. 'The circle is broken, the oath denied. Bad luck.' He shook his head. 'Bad luck.'
3
Knight of Solamnia. The old man's party
Raistlin leaned forward. He and Caramon exchanged glances as thoughts passed wordlessly between them. It was a rare moment, for only great personal difficulty or danger ever made the twins' close kinship apparent. Kitiara was their older half-sister.
'Kitiara would not break her oath unless another, stronger oath bound her.' Raistlin spoke their thoughts aloud.
'What does she say?' Caramon asked.
Tanis hesitated, then licked his dry lips. 'Her duties with her new lord keep her busy. She sends her regrets and best wishes to all of us and her love-' Tanis felt his throat constrict. He coughed. 'Her love to her brothers and to-' He paused, then foiled up the parchment. 'That's all.'
'Love to who?' Tasslehoff asked brightly. 'Ouch!' He glared at Flint who had trod upon his foot. The kender saw Tanis flush. 'Oh,' he said, feeling stupid.
'Do you know who she means?' Tanis asked the brothers.
'What new lord does she talk about?'
'Who knows with Kitiara?' Raistlin shrugged his thin shoulders. 'The last time we saw her was here, in the Inn, five years ago. She was going north with Sturm. We have not heard from her since. As for the new lord, I'd say we now know why she broke her oath to us; she has sworn allegiance to another. She is, after all, a mercenary.'
'Yes,' Tanis admitted. He slipped the scroll back into its case and looked up at Tika. 'You say this arrived under strange circumstances? Tell me.'
'A man brought it in, late this morning. At least I think it was a man.' Tika shivered. 'He was wrapped head to foot in clothing of every description. I couldn't even see his face. His voice was hissing-like and he spoke with a strange accent. 'Deliver this to one Tanis Half-Elven' he said. I told him you weren't here and hadn't been here for several years. 'He will be' the man said. Then he left.' Tika shrugged. 'That's all I can tell you. The old man over there saw him.' She gestured to an old man sitting in a chair before the fire. 'You might ask him if he noticed anything else.'
Tanis turned to look at an old man who was telling stories to a dreamy-eyed child staring into the flames. Flint touched his arm.
'Here comes one who can tell you more,' the dwarf said.
'Sturm!' Tanis said warmly, turning toward the door.
Everyone except Raistlin turned. The mage relapsed into the shadows once more.
At the door stood a straight-backed figure dressed in full plate armor and chain mail, the symbol of the Order of the Rose on the breastplate. A great many people in the Inn turned to stare, scowling. The man was a Solamnic Knight, and the Knights of Solamnia had fallen into ill-repute up north. Rumors of their corruption had spread even this far south. The few who recognized Stunn as a long-time former resident of Solace shrugged and turned back to their drinking. Those who did not, continued to stare. In these days of peace, it was unusual enough to see a knight in full armor enter the Inn. But it was still more unusual to see a knight in full armor that dated back practically to the Cataclysm!
Sturm received the stares as accolades due his rank. He carefully smoothed his great, thick moustaches, which, being the ages-old symbol of the Knights, were as obsolete as his armor. He bore the trappings of the Solamnic Knights with unquestioned pride-and he had the sword-arm and the skill to defend that pride. Although people in the Inn stared, no one — after one look at the knight's calm, cold eyes-dared snicker or make a derogatory comment.
The knight held the door open for a tall man and a woman heavily cloaked in furs. The woman must have spoken a word of thanks to Sturm, for he bowed to her in a courtly, old- fashioned manner long dead in the modern world.
'Look at that.' Caramon shook his head in admiration. 'The gallant knight helps the lady fair. I wonder where he dragged up those two?'
'They're barbarians from the Plains,' said Tas, standing on a chair, waving his arms to his friend. 'That's the dress of the Que-shu tribe.'
Apparently the two Plainsmen declined any offer Sturm made, for the knight bowed again and left them. He walked across the crowded Inn with a proud and noble air, such as he might have worn walking forward to be knighted by the king.
Tanis rose to his feet. Sturm came to him first and threw his arms around his friend. Tanis gripped him tightly, feeling the knight's strong, sinewy arms clasp him in affection. Then the two stood back to look at each other for a brief moment.
Sturm hasn't changed, Tanis thought, except that there are more lines around the sad eyes, more gray in the brown hair. The cloak is a little more frayed. There are a few more dents in the ancient armor. But the knight's flowing moustaches-his pride and joy-were as long and sweeping as ever, his shield was polished just as brightly, his brown eyes were just as warm when he saw his friends.
'And you have a beard,' Sturm said with amusement.
Then the knight turned to greet Caramon and Flint. Tasslehoff dashed off after more ale, Tika having been called away to serve others in the growing crowd.
'Greetings, Knight,' whispered Raistlin from his corner.
Sturm's face grew solemn as he turned to greet the other twin. 'Raistlin,' he said.
The mage drew back his hood, letting the light fall on his face. Sturm was too well-bred to let his astonishment show beyond a slight exclamation. But his eyes widened. Tanis realized the young mage was getting a cynical pleasure out of seeing his friends' discomfiture.
'Can I get you something, Raistlin?' Tanis asked.
