“The burden is a heavy one,” Riverwind said. “The lives of hundreds are in my care.”
“Not in your care alone, my friend,” Elistan told him gently. “Paladine is with you. Take your fears and worries to the god.”
“Will he give me a sign, Revered Son? Will the god tell me what to do?”
“The god will never tell you what to do,” Elistan said. “The god will grant you the wisdom to make the right decision and the strength to carry it through.”
“Wisdom.” Riverwind smiled and shook his head. “I am not one of the wise. I was a shepherd…”
“As a shepherd, you used your skills and instincts to keep your flock safe from the wolf. That is the wisdom Paladine has given you, the wisdom on which you must rely.”
Riverwind thought this over.
“Summon the people for a meeting at noontime,” he said at last. “I will announce my decision then.”
As they were leaving, Laurana glanced back at Riverwind over her shoulder. He was walking toward the grotto where they had built a small altar to honor the gods.
“He is a good man. His faith is strong and steadfast,” she said. “Tanis chose wisely. I wish he…” She stopped talking. She hadn’t meant to speak her thoughts aloud.
“You wish what, my dear?” Elistan asked.
“I wish Tanis could find the same faith,” Laurana said at last. “He does not believe in the gods.”
“Tanis will not find faith,” said Elistan, smiling. “I think it more likely that faith will find him, much as faith found me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not sure I do either,” Elistan admitted. “My heart is troubled about Tanis, yet Paladine assures me that I may safely rest those troubles in his hands.”
“I hope his hands are very large,” said Laurana, sighing.
“As large as heaven,” said Elistan.
If Riverwind spoke to Paladine, he did not seem to have found much ease or solace in his communion with the god. His face was dark and grim as he took his place at the front of the multitude. His words were not comforting or reassuring. He told the people of Tika’s journey. He said the knight, Sturm Brightblade, had discovered the way to Thorbardin (he was vague as to details). Riverwind told them Tika had overheard draconians talking about an army preparing for an assault on the valley and how she had been attacked by a draconian on her way back to warn them.
Hederick pursed his lips and rolled his eyes and gave a snort. “Tika Waylan is a nice girl, but as some of you will recall, she used to be a barmaid—”
“I believe her,” Riverwind said, and his firm tones silenced even Hederick, at least temporarily.
“I believe that this valley, once a haven of peace, may soon become a battle ground. If we are attacked here, we have no place to run to, no refuge. We will be trapped like rats to be captured or slaughtered. The gods have sent us this warning. We do wrong to ignore it. I propose that we leave in the next few days, travel south to Thorbardin, there to meet our friends.”
“Come now, be reasonable,” said Hederick. He turned to the crowd, raising his hands for silence.
“Don’t you people find it strange that the gods chose to deliver this warning to a barmaid instead of someone honored and respected—”
“Such as yourself?” Riverwind said.
“I was going to say, such as Revered Son Elistan,” said Hederick humbly “but yes, I think the gods might also use me as their vessel.”
“If they wanted to store ale, perhaps,” said Gilthanas in Laurana’s ear.
“Hush, brother!” she scolded him. “This is serious!”
“Of course it is, but they won’t listen to Riverwind. He is an outsider, as are we.” He glanced at Laurana. “You know, for the first time in my life, I begin to understand how alone and isolated Tanis must have felt when he lived among us.”
“I don’t feel alone among these people,” Laurana protested.
“Of course not,” Gilthanas answered, frowning. “You have Elistan.”
“Oh, Gil, not you too,” began Laurana, but he had walked off, going over to stand with the Plainsmen. They said nothing to the elf, but silently and respectfully moved to make room for him among their ranks.
Outsiders together.
Laurana should have gone after him, but she was angry at him, at Tanis, at Tika, at everyone who seemed willfully determined to misconstrue her relationship with Elistan. She worked for Elistan much as she had worked for her father: acting as a diplomat and intermediary. She had a gift for talking to people, a gift for soothing people, helping them work through anger and fear to see reason. She and Elistan were a good team. There was nothing romantic about it! He was, if anything, like a father to her.
Or a brother.
She looked at Gilthanas, and her anger softened to remorse. The two of them had once been very close. She had barely spoken to Gilthanas since she had started working with Elistan. No, it went back further than that. Since Tanis had once more entered her life.
Maybe it wasn’t even Tanis, she reflected. Her brother did not approve of her relationship with the half-elf any more now than he’d done in the past. But it was her relationship with all humans that stuck in his craw. She should keep herself aloof from them, hold herself apart. Like their father, Gilthanas was angry over the fact that the gods had seen fit to use humans to herald their return. The gods should have come to the elves, who were, after all, the chosen people. It was the humans whose transgressions had called down the wrath of the gods on the world.
“We are the good children,” said Laurana to herself. “We should not have been punished. But were we really good? Or were we just never caught?”
Elves had no such doubts. Elves were certain of their place in the universe. Humans, on the other hand, were always doubting, always seeking, always questioning. Laurana liked that about humans. She did not feel so alone with her doubts.
The thought occurred to her that she’d never tried to explain this to Gilthanas. She resolved to do so. Help him understand. She looked over at him and smiled to show that she wasn’t angry. He saw her but deliberately avoided meeting her eyes. Laurana sighed and brought her attention back to the meeting.
The arguing continued. Elistan supported Riverwind, as did Maritta.
“We all of us saw the dragon,” Maritta told them, “with that fiend, Verminaard, on its back. Now one of our own has been attacked here in this valley, or as near this valley as makes no difference. If that isn’t a sign that we are no longer safe, I don’t know what is.” Yet Hederick’s arguments were also persuasive, weighted with the fact that the people were in no danger now, but would be if they left the safety and shelter of caves to venture into the wilds, as was proven by the attack on Tika.
Riverwind could not argue against any of this. The burden lay on his heart, and he acknowledged it simply and openly.
“If we go, some or all of us may die,” he said, “but I believe that if we stay and do nothing, if we ignore Tika’s warning, we will fall victim to a cruel and brutal enemy.” He was certain, at least, of his own people joining him. The Plainsmen were united in their belief that trouble was coming and they had at last agreed, even the Que-Kiri, to accept Riverwind as their chief. Their quiet confidence gave him confidence, as did his time spent with the god. During his prayers, Riverwind had heard no immortal voice making promises, he’d felt no soothing touch of an immortal hand, but he had come away from the altar with the comforting knowledge that he did not walk alone.
He was about to say more when there was a stir at the entryway. Goldmoon appeared, guiding Tika’s faltering steps.
“She insisted on coming,” Goldmoon said. “I urged her to rest, but she said she had to speak for herself.”
People murmured softly in sympathy. The scratches on her arm had healed, but they were still visible. Pale and weak from the effects of the fever, Tika put aside Goldmoon’s hand and stood on her own to have her say.