“I agree to go,” said Tanis, “and Flint will go with me—”
“He will?” Flint reared up his head in astonishment.
“He will,” Tanis said, trodding again on the dwarf’s boot and saying quietly, “I’ll explain later.” He raised his voice. “In my absence, the High Theocrat and Elistan can handle the spiritual needs of the people. I propose that Riverwind of the Que-shu, take command of their safety.” Now it was Riverwind who looked astonished.
“An excellent idea,” said Elistan. “All of us witnessed Riverwind’s bravery in the battle at Pax Tharkas. Only today, we saw that he and his people overcame their terror of the dragon to attack the beast.”
Hederick was thinking so hard that Tanis could see the man’s thought process written on his face. First his brows came together and lips tightened. The High Theocrat wasn’t sure he liked the idea now, even though he himself had proposed that Tanis and Flint go to Thorbardin. The Theocrat was certain the half-elf must have some nefarious scheme to put Riverwind in charge. Hederick’s narrow-eyed gaze went to the Plainsman, went to the buckskin tunic and breeches, and then his face cleared. Riverwind was a savage, a bar-barian. Untaught, unschooled, he would be easy to manipulate—or so Hederick figured. Things could be worse. Tanis might have picked that insufferable Solamnic knight, Sturm Brightblade, to be the leader in his absence. Such were Hederick’s thoughts.
Tanis had almost chosen Sturm. The words had been on his lips, when he’d reconsidered. Not only did Tanis hope by this to persuade Riverwind and his people to stay, Tanis was convinced that Riverwind would be a better leader. Sturm saw everything as either black or white, nothing in shades of gray. He was too strict, unbending, unyielding. Riverwind was the better choice. The High Theocrat smiled expansively. “If the Plainsman will accept the task, I have no objection.”
Riverwind was about to reject it. Goldmoon put her hands over his arm and looked up at him. She said nothing in words, but he understood.
“I will think about it,” Riverwind said, after a pause.
Goldmoon smiled at him. He clasped her hands with his own. Hederick’s supporters gathered around him to discuss matters. Maritta joined Laurana and both began talking to Elistan. The meeting was breaking up.
“What is this about me going to Thorbardin?” Flint demanded. “I’ll not set foot beneath the mountain!”
“Later,” said Tanis.
Right now, he had to talk to Sturm, explain why he’d chosen Riverwind over the knight, when Sturm must feel that he was better qualified by education and lineage. Sturm was touchy about such things, easily offended.
Tanis made his way through the crowd. Flint was still going on about Thorbardin, dogging Tanis so closely that the dwarf kept tripping on Tanis’s heels. As he tried to avoid falling in the fire pit, Tanis drew near Hederick. The Theocrat had his back turned, talking to one of his cronies.
“There is no way out of this valley except over the mountains,” Hederick was explaining in a low voice. “It will take the half-elf and the dwarf weeks to make the crossing, and weeks more will pass while they search for this nonexistent dwarf kingdom. Thus we are rid of the meddlesome half-breed—”
Tanis walked on, his lips pressed tight. So that is Hederick’s reason for supporting the plan to go to Thorbardin. He gets rid of me.
Once I’m gone, he thinks he can walk over Elistan and Riverwind. I wouldn’t be so sure of that. All the same, Tanis wondered uneasily if Hederick was right. He and Flint might well spend weeks trying to cross the mountains.
“Don’t worry about what that windbag says, lad,” Flint said, his gruff voice sounding at Tanis’s elbow. “There’s a way.”
Tanis glanced down at his friend. “Does that mean you’ve had a change of heart?”
“No,” the dwarf retorted grimly. “It means I can tell you how to find the path.” Tanis shook his head. He’d talk the dwarf around. Right now, he was worried that he’d offended Sturm.
The knight stood near the fire, staring into the flames. He did not look offended. Indeed, he did not look as if he was aware of what was going on around him. Tanis spoke his name several times before Sturm heard him.
Sturm turned to him. The knight’s blue eyes glowed in the light. His face, generally set in stern and unbending lines, was animated and expressive.
“Your plan is brilliant, Tanis!” Sturm exclaimed. He grabbed Tanis’s hand and gripped it tight. Tanis regarded his friend in astonishment. “What plan?”
“Traveling to Thorbardin, of course. You can find it and bring it back.”
“Find what?” Tanis was growing more confused.
“The Hammer of Kharas! That is the real reason you’re going, isn’t it?”
“I’m going to Thorbardin to try to find safe haven for the refugees. I don’t know anything about a hammer—”
“Have you forgotten the legends?” Sturm asked, shocked. “We were speaking of it only the other night. The sacred and magical Hammer of Kharas—used to forge dragonlances!”
“Oh, yes, right. Dragonlances.”
Sturm, hearing his skeptical tone, regarded him in disappointment. “The dragonlance is the only weapon capable of felling a dragon, Tanis. We need them to fight the Dark Queen and her minions. You saw what happened when arrows struck that red beast. They bounced off! A dragonlance, on the other hand, is a weapon blessed by the gods. The great Huma used a dragonlance to defeat Takhisis—”
“I remember,” said Tanis hastily. “Hammer of Kharas. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“You should remember. This is important, Tanis,” Sturm insisted, and he was grimly serious.
“Perhaps it’s the most important task you’ll undertake in your lifetime.”
“The lives of eight hundred people—”
Sturm brushed those aside with a wave of his hand. “The Hammer is the only chance we have to win this war, and it is in Thorbardin.” His grip on Tanis’s arm tightened. Tanis could feel him shaking with the intensity of his emotions. “You must ask the dwarves to lend it to us. You must!”
“I will, Sturm, I promise,” said Tanis, taken aback by his friend’s intensity. “Now, about Riverwind—”
But Sturm’s gaze had shifted. He was looking at Raistlin and Caramon.
Caramon was talking to his twin in low tones. The big man’s expression was troubled. Raistlin made an impatient gesture and then, leaning close, he said something to his twin.
“Raistlin is plotting something,” Sturm said, frowning. “I wonder what? Why did he bring up Skullcap?”
Tanis tried again. “In my absence, I named Riverwind as leader—”
“A good choice, Tanis,” said Sturm absently.
The twins ended their conversation. Raist was striding out of the cave, walking swiftly, with more energy than usual, leaving Caramon to stare unhappily after his brother. He shook his head and then he, too, left.
“Excuse me, Tanis,” said Sturm, and he hurried off.
“What was all that about?” Flint asked.
“Beats me. Do you know anything about this hammer?”
“Hammer, schmammer,” said Flint, glowering. “I’ll not set foot beneath the mountain.” Tanis sighed and was about to try to make good his own escape from the stifling cavern when he saw Riverwind and Goldmoon standing near the entrance. He felt that he owed them both an explanation.
“A fine snare you laid for me, Half-Elven,” Riverwind remarked. “I am caught in your trap and not even my wife will set me free.”