Hederick, as usual, spoke first.
Tanis thought that Hederick would be the first one to advocate fleeing the valley. The half-elf was astonished to find that Hederick still insisted on remaining.
“If anything, this attack reinforces my argument that we should stay here in the valley where we are safe,” Hederick said. “Can you imagine the terrible tragedy that would have occurred if that dragon had caught us traipsing along some mountain trail with no cover, nowhere to run? The beast would have slaughtered us all! As it was, the Highlord realized that he was no match for us and flew off.”
“The Dragon Highlord did not come to attack us, High Theocrat,” said Sturm. “Lord Verminaard came to find us, and he succeeded. He now knows where we are.”
“What will he do about it?” Hederick asked, spreading his hands. His supporters, gathered around him, all sagely nodded their heads. “Nothing, that’s what. Because there’s nothing he can do! He cannot bring troops through the pass. If he returns with the dragon, we will simply remain in the caves. Not even Lord Verminaard can burn down this mountain!”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” Tanis muttered.
He exchanged glances with Riverwind. Both of them remembered vividly the destruction of Riverwind’s village in Que-shu, the solid rock walls that had melted away like fresh churned butter.
Tanis glanced at Elistan, wondering when the Revered Son was going to speak. Tanis was starting to have serious doubts about Elistan and his gods of Light. Elistan had proclaimed that the Dragon Highlord had been killed with help from the gods, yet the evil Highlord was not dead. Tanis wanted very much to ask Elistan why the gods of light had not been able to prevent Verminaard from coming back from the dead. Now was not the time to question the Revered Son’s faith, however. The High Theocrat was looking for an opportunity to denounce these new gods and return to the Seeker gods he and his followers had been promoting to their own private advantage. Tanis guessed that Hederick and his bunch were already at work to undermine Elistan’s teachings. They didn’t need his help.
I’ll speak to Elistan in private, Tanis thought. Meanwhile, the Revered Son could at least give me his support, not just sit there in silence. If he’s as wise as Laurana claims, he’ll see that we can’t stay here.
“Our danger grows by the minute, good gentlefolk,” Sturm was saying, speaking to the assembly.
“Verminaard knows where we are. He did not seek us out for the sake of his health! He has a plan in mind, you may be sure of that. To do nothing is to doom us all to certain death.” One of the delegates, a woman named Maritta, rose to her feet. She was middle-aged, stout, and plain looking, but she was also a woman of courage and of sense who had played a valuable role in helping the refugees escape Pax Tharkas. She admired Elistan and had little use for Hederick. Clasping her hands over her midriff, she faced the High Theocrat.
“You, sir, claim that we will be safe from the dragon if we stay here, but the dragon is not our only enemy. Winter is another foe, just as deadly. What happens when our food supplies run low and the game has vanished? When the bitter cold and lack of proper food brings sickness and death to the elderly and the young?”
She rounded on Tanis. “And you, Half-Elven. You want us to leave. Very well, then. Where do we go? Answer me that! Would you have us set out with no destination in mind, to wind up lost in the wilderness or starving to death on some frozen mountainside?”
Before Tanis could answer, there was a blast of chill air. The elaborate screen of branches and animal hides that covered Hederick’s cavern rustled and was shoved aside. Torchlight flickered in the wind, the flames of the fire wavered. Everyone looked round to see who had arrived. Raistlin entered the meeting area. The mage wore his cowl pulled low over his head.
“It has started to snow,” he reported.
“Does he enjoy bringing bad news?” Sturm muttered.
“What’s he doing here?” Flint demanded.
“I asked him to come. I told him what time to be here,” Tanis said, irritated. “I wonder why he’s late!”
“So he could make a dramatic entrance,” said Sturm.
Raistlin walked over to stand near the fire. The mage moved slowly, taking his time, well aware that all eyes were on him, though few with any friendly feeling. He cared nothing about being universally disliked, however. Tanis thought that perhaps Raistlin even reveled in it.
“Don’t let me interrupt, Half-Elven,” Raistlin said, coughing softly. He held his hands over the blaze to warm himself. The firelight reflected eerily on his glistening golden skin. “You were about to say something regarding the dwarven kingdom.”
Tanis hadn’t said a word about this yet. He hadn’t been going to spring it on people in this abrupt fashion.
“I have been thinking we could find safe haven in the kingdom of Thorbardin—” he began reluctantly.
His proposal caused an outburst.
“Dwarves!” cried Hederick, frowning. “We’ll have nothing to do with dwarves!” His sentiment was loudly echoed by his supporters. Riverwind looked grim and shook his head.
“My people will not travel to Thorbardin.”
“Now see here, the lot of you,” said Maritta. “You guzzle dwarf spirits and you’re quick to take their money when dwarves come to your shops—”
“That doesn’t mean we have to live with them.” Hederick made a stiff and condescending bow to Flint. “Present company excepted, of course.”
Flint had nothing to say in return—a bad sign. Ordinarily he would have given the Theocrat the sharp edge of his tongue. As it was, the dwarf sat in silence, whittling on a piece of wood. Tanis gave an inward sigh. He had known all along that his biggest obstacle to his plan of traveling to the dwarven kingdom was going to be this stubborn old dwarf.
The argument raged. Tanis glanced at Raistlin, who stood by the fire, warming his hands, a slight smile on his thin lips. He tossed this fireball into our midst for a reason, Tanis thought. Raistlin has something in mind. What, I wonder?
“No one is even certain if there are still dwarves beneath the mountain,” stated Hederick. Flint stirred at that, but still said nothing.
“I have no objection to traveling to Thorbardin,” said Maritta, “but it is well known that the dwarves shut the gates to their kingdom three hundred years ago.”
“That is the truth,” said Flint, “and I say let their gates stay shut!” Startled silence fell. People stared at the dwarf in wonder.
“You’re not helping,” Tanis said in a low aside.
“You know my feelings,” Flint returned dourly. “I’ll not set one foot beneath the mountain! Even if we could find the gates, which we can’t. They’ve been lost for three hundred years.”
“So it is not safe to stay here, and we have no place to go. Where does that leave us?” Maritta asked.
“Here,” said Hederick.
Everyone began talking at once. The cave was rapidly heating up, what with the fire and so many warm bodies. Tanis was starting to sweat. He did not like confined spaces, did not like breathing the same air that had been breathed over and over by others. He was tempted to leave, and let everyone take care of themselves. The noise level grew, the din of the arguing reverberating off the rock walls. Then Raistlin gave a gentle cough.
“If I may speak,” he began in his soft, damaged voice, and a hush fell. “I know how to find the key to Thorbardin. The secret lies beneath Skullcap.”
Everyone stared at him in silence, not understanding what he meant, all except Flint. The dwarf’s face was grim, his jaw clenched. His breath came in grunts, and he whittled at the wood so hard the chips flew. He kept his eyes on his work.
“You have our attention, Raistlin,” said Tanis. “What is Skullcap? Where is it and what do you mean that the secret to Thorbardin lies beneath it.”