'Two dragons!' Tanis said incredulously.
'Not more than two.'
Caramon groaned and settled back. The warrior had been giving dragon fighting serious thought ever since Xak Tsaroth. He and Sturm had reviewed every tale about Huma, the only known dragon fighter the knight could remember. Unfortunately, no one had ever taken the legends of Huma seriously before (except the Solamnic Knights, for which they were ridiculed), so much of Huma's tale had been distorted by time or forgotten.
'A knight of truth and power, who called down the gods themselves and forged the mighty Dragonlance,' Caramon murmured now, glancing at Sturm, who lay asleep on the straw-covered floor of their prison.
'Dragonlance?' muttered Fizban, waking with a snort. 'Dragonlance? Who said anything about the Dragonlance?'
'My brother,' Raistlin whispered, smiling bitterly. 'Quoting the Canticle. It seems he and the knight have taken a fancy to children's stories that have come to haunt them.'
'Good story, Huma and the Dragonlance,' said the old man, stroking his beard.
'Story-that's all it is.' Caramon yawned and scratched his chest. 'Who knows if it's real or if the Dragonlance was real or if even Huma was real.'
'We know the dragons are real,' Raistlin murmured.
'Huma was real,' Fizban said softly. 'And so was the Dragonlance.' The old man's face grew sad.
'Was it?' Caramon sat up. 'Can you describe it?'
'Of course!' Fizban sniffed disdainfully.
Everyone was listening now. Fizban was, in fact, a bit disconcerted by his audience.
'It was a weapon similiar to-no, it wasn't. Actually it was-no, it wasn't that either. It was closer to… almost a… rather it was, sort of a-lance, that's it! A lance!' He nodded earnestly. 'And it was quite good against dragons.'
'I'm taking a nap,' Caramon grumbled.
Tanis smiled and shook his head. Sitting back against the bars, he wearily closed his eyes. Soon everyone except Raistlin and Tasslehoff fell into a fitful sleep. The kender, wide awake and bored, looked at Raistlin hopefully. Sometimes, if Raistlin was in a good mood, he would tell stories about magic-users of old. But the mage, wrapped in his red robes, was staring curiously at Fizban. The old man sat on a bench, snoring gently, his head bobbing up and down as the cart jounced over the road. Raistlin's golden eyes narrowed to gleaming slits as though he had been struck by a new and disturbing thought. After a moment, he pulled his hood up over his head and leaned back, his face lost in the shadows.
Tasslehoff sighed. Then, glancing around, he saw Sestun walking near the cage. The kender brightened. Here, he knew, was an appreciative audience for his stories.
Tasslehoff, calling him over, began to relate one of his own personal favorites. The two moons sank. The prisoners slept. The hobgoblins trailed along behind, half-asleep, talking about making camp soon. Fewmaster Toede rode up ahead, dreaming about promotion. Behind the Fewmaster, the draconians muttered among themselves in their harsh language, casting baleful glances at Toede when he wasn't looking.
Tasslehoff sat, swinging his legs over the side of the cage, talking to Sestun.'The kender noticed without seeming to that Gilthanaswas only pretending to sleep. Tas saw the elf's eyes open and glance quickly around when he thought no one was watching. This intrigued Tas immensely. It seemed almost as if Gilthanas was watching or waiting for something. The kender lost the thread of his story.
'And so I… uh… grabbed a rock from my pouch, threw it and-thunk-hit the wizard right on the head,' Tas finished hurriedly. 'The demon grabbed the wizard by the foot and dragged him down into the depths of the Abyss.'
'But first demon thank you,' prompted Sestun who had heard this story-with variations-twice before. 'You forgot.'
'Did I?' Tas asked, keeping an eye on Gilthanas. 'Well, yes, the demon thanked me and took away the magic ring he'd given me. If it wasn't dark, you could see the outline the ring burned on my finger.'
'Sun uping. Morning soon. I see then,' the gully dwarf said eagerly.
It was still dark, but a faint light in the east hinted that soon the sun would be rising on the fourth day of their journey.
Suddenly Tas heard a bird call in the woods. Several answered it. What odd-sounding birds, Tas thought. Never heard their like before. But then he'd never been this far south before. He knew where they were from one of his many maps.
They had passed over the only bridge across the White-rage River and were heading south toward Pax Tharkas, which was marked on the kender's map as the site of the famed Thadarkan iron mines. The land began to rise, and thick forests of aspens appeared to the west. The draconians and hobgoblins kept eyeing the forests and their pace picked up. Concealed within these woods was Qualinesti, the ancient elvenhome.
Another bird called, much nearer now. Then the hair rose on Tasslehoff's neck as the same bird call sounded from right behind him. The kender turned to see Gilthanas on his feet, his fingers to his lips, an eerie whistle splitting the air.
'Tanis!' Tas yelled, but the half-elf was already awake. So was everyone in the cart.
Fizban sat up, yawned, and glanced around. 'Oh, good,' he said mildly, 'the elves are here.'
'What elves-where?' Tanis sat up.
There was a sudden whirring sound like a covey of quail taking flight. A cry rang out from the supply wagon in front of them, then there was a splintering sound as the wagon, now driverless, lurched into a rut and tipped over. The driver of their cage wagon pulled sharply on the reins, stopping the elk before they ran into the wrecked supply wagon. The cage tipped precariously, sending the prisoners sprawling. The driver got the elk going again and guided them around the wreckage.
Suddenly the driver of the cage screamed and clutched at his neck where the companions saw the feathered shaft of an arrow silhouetted against the dimly lit morning sky. The driver's body tumbled from the seat. The other guard stood up, sword raised, then he, too, toppled forward with an arrow in his chest. The elk, reeling the reins go slack, slowed until the cage rolled to a halt. Cries and screams echoed up and down the caravan as arrows whizzed through the air.
The companions fell for cover face first on the floor of the cage.
'What is it? What's going on?' Tanis asked Gilthanas.
But the elf, ignoring him, peered through the dawn gloom into the forest. 'Porthios!' he called.
'Tanis, what's happening?' Sturm sat up, speaking his first words in four days.
'Porthios is Gilthanas's brother. I take it this is a rescue,' Tanis said. An arrow zipped past and lodged in the wooden side of the cart, narrowly missing the knight.
'It won't be much of a rescue if we end up dead!' Sturm dropped to the floor. 'I thought elves were expert marksmen!'
'Keep low.' Gilthanas ordered. 'The arrows are only to cover our escape. This is a strike-and-run raid. My people are not capable of attacking a large body directly. We must be ready to run for the woods.'
'And how do we get out of these cages?' Sturm demanded.
'We cannot do everything for you!' Gilthanas replied coldly. 'There are magic-users-'
'I cannot work without my spell components!' Raistlin hissed from beneath a bench. 'Keep down. Old One,' he said to Fizban who, head raised, was looking around with interest.
'Perhaps I can help,' the old magician said, his eyes brightening. 'Now, let me think-'
'What in the name of the Abyss is going on?' roared a voice out of the darkness. Fewmaster Toede appeared, galloping on his pony. 'Why have we stopped?'
'We under attack!' Sestun cried, crawling out from under the cage where he'd taken cover.
'Attack? BIyxtshok! Get this cart moving!' Toede shouted. An arrow thunked into the Fewmaster's saddle. Toede's red eyes flew open and he stared fearfully into the woods. 'We're under attack! Elves! Trying to free the prisoners!'
'Driver and guard dead!' Sestun shouted, flattening himself against the cage as another arrow just missed him. 'What me do?'
An arrow zipped over Toede's head. Ducking, he had to clutch his pony's neck to keep himself from falling off. 'I'll get another driver,' he said hastily. 'You stay here. Guard these prisoners with your life! I'll hold you
