ogres were through with a town, she’d fly in and burn it, to make sure nothing survived. We had to make firebreaks to keep the whole Kenderwood from going up.”
“We saw that,” Brightdawn said solemnly. She looked down at Billee Juniper, who was asleep in her arms. Tears shone in the Plainswoman’s eyes. “We passed through a town on the way here.”
“Weavewillow,” Kronn added, in reply to Paxina’s inquisitive look. “The whole place was blasted.”
“That was one of the last to go,” Giffel stated.
“Actually, Weavewillow wasn’t quite as bad as some of the others,” Paxina said. “By the time the ogres attacked there, most of our people were already gone. You see, a couple of weeks ago I sent messengers to every village that was still standing, telling them to evacuate and come here. Just about everyone did, although there were stragglers who didn’t make it out.”
“Only two days ago,” Giffel continued, “the ogres started showing up outside Kendermore. They’ve been arriving steadily ever since. You’re lucky you got here when you did-by this time tomorrow, their numbers will have doubled. You’d never have escaped if you’d tried to ride for the gates then.”
“So we’re just in time,” Kronn said cheerfully. “Wouldn’t want to miss this battle.”
Paxina nodded grimly. “There’s nowhere left to run.”
“A last stand,” Riverwind said.
“Yes.”
“They won’t take us easily,” Giffel declared. “Kendermore isn’t like the other villages. Our walls are strong, and we’ve got eighty thousand kender to defend them, if need be.”
“Who’s leading the defense?” Kronn asked.
“Well, right now it’s Brimble Redfeather,” Paxina answered, “but I was hoping you’d come back in time.”
“There will be a siege,” Riverwind said. “If this Black-Gazer’s as smart as you say, he won’t attack right away. He’ll set up his army outside your walls, and he’ll wait, and try to starve and worry you out. I assume you don’t have any supply lines?”
Paxina shook her head. “Even if we did, where would we get supplies from? Flotsam? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Riverwind, but most humans would be quite happy if our people disappeared from Krynn tomorrow. As of right now, we have enough foodstuffs for a few months, maybe longer. After that, to be frank, I expect we’ll starve.”
It was dark out when they finished their supper. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Giffel pushed back his chair and rose. “I’m afraid I have to go,” he said, bowing to Paxina, and left.
“You’ll pardon me, too,” Arlie said. He stood and began to collect crumb-dusted plates from the table. “I’ve still got lots of work to do. You can go look in on Catt if you like, but don’t wake her. For now, sleep’s the best thing for her.”
The Plainsfolk and kender sat in silence for a time, sipping their drinks.
“They’re going to need a place to stay,” Kronn told Paxina. “Preferably somewhere Riverwind doesn’t have to worry about honking his head on the ceiling all the time. She eyed the old Plainsman carefully. “I think there’s a house down on Cherrystone Boulevard that might do. Used to belong to a kender wizard, a few years back. He had a tall hat.” She winked. “Kronn and I will take the three of you there tonight, after we’re done here. Now,” she added, nodding at the little kender girl in Brightdawn’s arms, “as for our other visitor.
“Billee can stay with me, if you like,” Brightdawn offered. “Until we find her family, that is.”
“Brightdawn,” Kronn said, “I’m pretty sure we aren’t going to find her family.” He peered at the child, making sure she was asleep before he went on. “Her mother and father are probably dead-I think we can be sure of that.”
“There are orphanages,” Paxina said. “Billee’s not the only child to lose her parents to Malys and the ogres. And some parents have lost their children, too-I’m sure we can find a foster family for her.”
Brightdawn looked at the kender gravely. “If it’s all the same to you,” she said, “I’d rather keep her.”
Paxina and her brother exchanged troubled looks, but Riverwind spoke before they could say anything. “Maybe the two of you should go see your sister now,” he told them.
Kronn rose from his seat, understanding. He gulped down the last of his cider, then casually tucked the goblet in one of his pouches.
“Come on, Pax,” he said. “Catt was asking for you earlier, before she dozed off.” The two kender left the room arm-in-arm. Kronn pushed the door shut behind him.
When it clicked closed, Riverwind turned to his daughter. She returned his gaze, a challenge in her eyes, but the old Plainsman did not relent. He leaned forward, his face grave. “You know you can’t keep her,” he said.
“Why not?” she asked. She raised her chin haughtily. “I’m the one who rescued her. If I hadn’t heard her crying, you would have ridden on by… and then who would have taken care of her? The ogres?”
“I’ve seen how attached you’ve grown to her, child. But Billee’s no human girl. She’s a kender.”
Brightdawn opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. She turned to Swiftraven. “I don’t see you helping me.”
The young warrior shifted uneasily. “I’m sorry Brightdawn,” he said. “I agree with your father. I don’t think you can handle a kender child. I know I couldn’t.”
Brightdawn’s lips tightened bitterly. “You’re both so sure you know what I’m capable of.”
“Not just us.” Riverwind’s voice was gentle. “Paxina thinks the same way.
For a moment, Brightdawn met her father’s steady gaze. Then her shoulders slumped, and she bowed her head. “You’re right. I’m just being selfish.”
“Not just, Brightdawn.” Riverwind said, shaking his head. “I want you to leave. Go back to Que-Shu.”
“We’ve already discussed this. I can’t leave these people here, any more than you can, Father.” Before he could respond, she stood, propping little Billee on her shoulder, and walked to the door. “I’m tired now. It’s been a very long day. I’m going to ask Paxina to show us to that house she was telling us about.”
With that, she strode from the room. Swiftraven glanced apologetically at Riverwind, then rose and followed her out.
When they were gone and Riverwind was alone, he let out a groan of pain, his hand pressing against his belly. Tears spilled down his old, weathered face.
Chapter 17
The next day, Catt Thistleknot woke with a headache the likes of which she had never felt before. Though the little bedroom where Arlie had put her was mostly dark, what little light there was stabbed at her eyes like spears. She moaned, wincing, and tried to roll over. A flash of pain stopped her, however, and she lay back, the room spinning wildly about her. “I wish I were dead,” she moaned thickly.
“Good morning to you, too,” said Kronn. He leaned over her, a cheery smile on his face. “Of course, any morning you wake up alive’s a good one, after what you’ve been through.”
She squinted, her bleary eyes fighting to focus. “Kronn?” she asked. “Why are there two of you?”
Kronn’s eyebrows shot up-all four of them, in Catt’s eyes-and he glanced across the room, at Arlie Longfinger. The old herbalist nodded. “Double-vision’s normal for someone who’s taken that kind of knock,” he said.
“Quit complaining, Catt,” said another voice, from the other side of the bed. Painfully, Catt looked that way, and saw a silver-haired kender clad in the purple robes of a Lord Mayor. She frowned, trying to focus on the woman’s face. “You could at least be grateful to Kronn. You’d be dead if it weren’t for him.”
“Pax?”
Paxina looked at Arlie, who shrugged. “Short-term memory loss,” he said. “That isn’t unusual, either.”
Catt looked at them blankly. “So what happened to me?”
“You fell off your horse,” Kronn answered. He squeezed her good hand; the other arm lay across her chest, bound in fresh, linen bandages. “You conked your head pretty good too.”
“Kronn went back for you, Catt,” Paxina said. “He picked you up and put you on his pony. If he hadn’t, the
