The meeting ended soon after, the Councillors chattering excitedly amongst themselves as they filed out the door. Several of them, including Merldon Metwinger, climbed up on the dais and solemnly shook Riverwind’s hand. The Plainsman watched them go, smiling with satisfaction.
“Father!” said a pair of voices behind him.
Riverwind shut his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself, then turned to face his daughters. Moonsong and Brightdawn stood side by side, their faces darkened by accusation and betrayal.
“Would you excuse us a moment, Paxina?” he asked.
The Lord Mayor glanced from the old Plainsman to the twins, then nodded, understanding. “Kronn, Catt-let’s go,” she said. Gathering her purple mayoral robes around her, she left the room. Her brother and sister followed.
Moonsong and Brightdawn stared at their father in silence. Riverwind looked away, unable to meet their gaze.
“When you explained the plan to us this morning, you never mentioned anything about going to Blood Watch,” Moonsong said.
Riverwind sighed. “I know. Nevertheless, I discussed it with Paxina and the others last night. Kronn has agreed to go with me, and guide me through the tunnels.”
Despite her best efforts to remain calm, Brightdawn trembled visibly. “Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked.
“I knew you’d try to talk me out of it,” Riverwind answered. “And, what’s more, you might have succeeded. I couldn’t afford to take that chance.”
“Couldn’t afford to let us talk some sense into you?” Moonsong demanded furiously.
“Child, this is something I have to do,” Riverwind answered. “That old Councillor was right-if someone doesn’t do something about Malys, it doesn’t matter whether they beat the ogres or not. The kender will die. I can’t ask anyone else to go to Blood Watch. The danger’s too great. So I’m going myself.”
The twins looked at him silently; then Moonsong turned and walked out of the audience hall. Brightdawn lingered, however. The pain in her eyes was almost too much for Riverwind to bear.
“You should have told me, Father,” she said softly. For a moment, she looked as if she might say more, but instead she turned away and hurried out the door.
Riverwind started after her, but a spasm of pain contorted his face and he stopped. Groaning, he stumbled to a chair and slumped down into it.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, then buried his face in his hands and wept.
Kendermore’s last days passed much too quickly.
As Paxina had predicted, once the Kender Council knew about the plan, the rest of the city learned of it within hours. When the sun rose on the first day after the meeting at City Hall, thousands of kender poured into the streets, making their way to the tunnel entrances that riddled the city. Giffel and the other guards kept the crowds under control while Catt oversaw the drawing of lots. While there were some arguments and hurt feelings over the results, most of the kender accepted their place with good humor. And so, when the blistering sun rode high in the late autumn sky, the Kender Flight began right on schedule.
Several key Councillors, including Merldon Metwinger, went ahead of the Flight to guide those who followed to the agreed upon gathering place-a shallow valley in the plains of Balifor, several leagues west of the edge of the Kenderwood. There, over the next three weeks, the kender would set up a ramshackle tent city and wait for the rest to follow.
For the kender, the hardest part wasn’t leaving their homes-even the oldest of them still felt the yearning for the road sometimes, and the impending attack by Malystryx and the ogres only made that yearning that much stronger. And while there were many tears shed when they realized they had to leave behind most of the interesting things they owned, they were practical about that, too. “There’s always more where that came from,” was a kender proverb-although, of course, every kender who set out through the tunnels did so with full pockets and pouches stuffed almost to bursting.
The hardest part, it turned out, was saying goodbye to friends. The method Paxina and Catt had chosen for choosing who went first in the Flight was fair, but in many ways it was also cruel. Kender who had known each other for years had to bid each other farewell, and while Catt made every effort to move families out together, inevitably some husbands and wives, sisters and brothers, parents and children were separated. Around the tunnel entrances, the air rang with weeping and promises of “I’ll see you soon.”
While the Flight was going on, the rest of the city was far from idle. Kender filled the streets, not with their usual aimless bustle but with a singular reason: to prepare the trap that would catch and kill the Black-Gazer and his horde. Walls were erected, holes dug, and wood and stone carried back and forth. At the town’s edge, teams of kender armed with chisels and picks chipped away at the city walls themselves, weakening the stone and mortar. It could have been a grim business, preparing the city for its destruction, but the kender enjoyed themselves, singing and humming as bit by bit they crafted a purpose from the meaningless tangle of Kendermore’s streets.
On the day after Yule-a holiday the kender completely forgot about as they sought to prepare the defenses and flee the city-Riverwind and Paxina toured Kendermore, inspecting the work the kender had done. As they walked through the courtyards just inside the city walls, they had to thread their way carefully among the many places where the kender had pried up the cobblestones and were excavating earth beneath. The clatter of shovels rang all around them, and a constant flow of wheelbarrows hauled dirt away into the city.
“Where are they taking all the earth?” Riverwind asked, pausing in the middle of the courtyard to take it all in. There were hundreds of holes, all around them. It looked as if a colony of giant moles had invaded the town.
“All over the place,” Paxina answered. “The bricklayers and stonemasons need mortar, and it turns out whatever Malystryx has done to the soil makes it perfect for that.”
They continued to pick their way through the hole-riddled courtyard until they reached a place where the diggers had finished working. Here and there, kender sat around smoldering braziers, whittling wooden stakes into spears and setting them among the flames to harden. Runners moved from fire to fire, gathering armloads of finished stakes and carrying them down ladders into the many holes in the cobbles. Riverwind glanced into a pit and saw that its earthen floor, some fifteen feet down, was lined with dozens of stakes. Such deadfalls were an old trick, used by hunters all over Krynn. Many years ago, when he’d been a shepherd, Riverwind had dug them himself to protect his flock when hunger drove wolves and other predators down from the hills to the east of Que-Shu.
“They’ve finished covering them over there,” Paxina stated, pointing ahead. At the far end of the courtyard, there was no sign whatsoever that the ground was riddled with pits. To Riverwind, it looked like nothing but an ordinary, stone-paved plaza.
“How did you get the cobblestones to stay up?” he asked.
The Lord Mayor grinned. “Good question. Come over here.” She hurried ahead, making her way over toward the deceptively normal-looking part of the courtyard. When she reached its edge, she tapped her hoopak against the ground a few times, until one cobblestone answered with a hollow clack. She bent down and lifted it up, revealing a lattice of wood and rope that hung above a yawning, spiked pit. “Strong enough to keep the stones up,” she declared, “and it’ll hold a kender’s weight, too-maybe even an ogre or two. But try charging a whole bunch across…” She shrugged, grinning impishly as she slid the stone back into place.
They went on, pausing briefly when they reached a place where the kender were busily hewing at a span of the wall. Riverwind marveled at the workers’ precision. They had chipped away so much stone, it looked like the wall might crash down upon them if anyone sneezed. Despite its apparent fragility, however, sentries and archers still paced the battlements, watching the woods with a wary eye.
As he regarded the wall, Riverwind started to chuckle. Paxina looked at him questioningly. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
The old Plainsman gestured at the wall. “I just had a vision of how surprised they’ll be when this comes down,” he said. “In most sieges, it’s crews of sappers on the other side who try to weaken the walls.”
“True,” Paxina said with a grin. “Come on, let’s head into the city. There’s a few more things I want to show you.”
They walked down a narrow, winding avenue, stopping every now and then to walk around places where the kender were digging more pits in the middle of the road. Bricklayers worked at certain intersections, hurriedly
