This kender was the same Asa who made regular stops in Solace while on the road throughout Krynn, harvesting and vending herbs and roots. He augmented his income with, among other specialties, the sideline of courier.
How he happened upon Kitiara is quite unknown. But kender do have their ways. The kender handed Kit a sealed paper from Caramon, earning, for his troubles, not the tip he fully expected, but a scowl and a stare until he went away. The letter said: Dear Kitiara,
This kender says that if anyone can find you, he can, and so I have given him six coins to do so. Kender are sneaky but honest, so I hope he does, and soon. I am writing this letter by hand, but Raistlin is telling me what to say. He would write it himself but he is fatigued from exertions in the course of trying to make our dear Mother feel better as she lies dying.
Firstly, let me say that we have been overwhelmed by tragedy lately. Our poor, beloved father, Gilon, is dead.
It was a dreadful circumstance, and I do not think it could have been avoided. It seems he was chopping down a tree as a storm was threatening, and he ought to have stopped. For the wind came up strong in an unexpected direction and blew the tree down on his leg, mashing it and pinning him. He could not move out from under it. Perhaps because of the storm I did not immediately hear Amber barking outside the door. I was surprised that Gilon was not with her. Raistlin was at mage school, and I was watching over Rosamun. 1 hurried to follow Amber, but it took me at least an hour to get to the place where Gilon was trapped.
Not knowing what was wrong, I did not have the proper supplies, and it took me another hour to get Gregor loose and to rig a crude sled to bring him back (for, needless to say, he could not walk).
By now several hours had passed since the accident. His leg was black with blood and infection. He was quite delirious.
The cleric said his leg would have had to be cut off anyway, if he hadn't died of pneumonia, because of all the time he was in the cold wind and rain. He died coming back. I didn't even know that he was dead until after we stopped. We are very sad. The house is not the same.
Raistlin said I did the best I could.
The news had a shattering effect on Mother. Oh, Kit, it was terrible to tell her. Raistlin said he would.
It has now been some weeks. Mother is pale as death itself, barely clinging to life. Raistlin has become very adept at potions and is easing her pain. (I have become very good at my sword work, and I wish you were here so that I could try some moves on you.)
But she will not live much longer, and I wish you were here to help us. If the kender finds you with this letter, I apologize for its length. But if you are able, I wish that you would come.
Your brothers,
Caramon and Raistlin
Kit put down the letter. Her legs were up on the table. Her tankard of ale went untouched as she sat there, frowning in thought.
Truth to tell, now and then Kitiara wondered about Solace—about home, her old friends and enemies there, Gilon, her brothers, Rosamun.
The letter was an excuse to go back. Within an hour she had paid up her bill and saddled her horse, loading it down with presents and riches.
* * * * *
The plump woman crossing the road was so surprised by the horse that suddenly galloped past, splashing mud on her clean white uniform, that she only had a moment to look up at its rider.
A lean, muscular young woman, dressed in fine leggings and a shiny breastplate, rode in the saddle, her unruly, black hair whipping in the air and a deep scarlet cloak flapping behind her.
Minna shook a fist at the arrogant rider, then patted the hair on the top of her head. She did not recognize Kitiara Uth Matar, and Kit did not notice the old midwife. At the Majere cottage, the scene was a mixture of joy and sorrow. The boys greeted Kit warmly. Boys! At sixteen, they were already young men. Raistlin was tall and weakbodied with a wretched cough—but he regarded his half-sister warmly. Caramon was robust and squeezed Kit in a bear hug until she sternly told him to put her down. Both of them were agape at her armor and finery, at the sturdy roan she rode, and at the parcels that weighted it down. She had brought money to pay all outstanding debt and several gifts for each of them.
The happy homecoming was tempered by the tragedy unfolding in the interior of the cottage, where Rosamun was dying. She looked like a pale wraith. Her small room was lit with candles, and her faithful sister, Quivera, was at her bedside. Quivera gave Kit a nervous nod when she at last entered.
Rosamun had little or no comprehension that Kit had come home.
Kit took to sleeping in Gilon's bed to be close-at-hand in the final days. Yet the days stretched on, and Rosamun did not die. She did not open her eyes, she never got out of bed, and her breath came in weak spurts. Still she did not die.
Kit saw Aureleen down at the market one morning. Her old friend glowed with health, but she was married now and
