“So long as it was not goblins you heard,” the Knight said. He cast a glance over his shoulder.
“Do you think we’ve stopped them?”
The Knight wore the armor of a Knight of the Crown. Tas had first taken him to be an older man, for the Knight’s hair had gone quite gray, but after watching him awhile, Tas realized that the Knight was far younger than he appeared at first glance. It was his eyes that made him look older—they had a sadness about them and a weariness that should not have been seen in one so young.
“We’ve stopped them for the time being,” the mage said. Sinking down at the foot of the tree, he cradled the staff protectively in his arms.
The staff was Raistlin’s, all right. Tasslehoff knew that staff well, with its crystal ball clutched in the golden dragon’s claw. He remembered the many times he’d reached out to touch it, only to have his hand smacked.
“And many times I’ve seen Raistlin hold the staff just like that,” Tas said softly to himself. “Yet that mage is most certainly not Raistlin, Maybe he’s stolen Raistlin’s staff. If so, Raistlin will want to know who the thief is.”
Tas listened with all his ears, as the old kender saying went.
“Our enemy now has a healthy fear of your sword and my magic,” the mage was saying.
“Unfortunately, goblins have an even healthier fear of their own commanders. The whip will soon convince them to come after us.”
“It will take them time to regroup.” The Knight squatted down beneath the tree. Picking up a handful of wet pine needles, he began to clean the blood off his sword. “Time enough for us to rest, then try to find our way back to our company. Or time for them to find us. They are undoubtedly out searching for us even now.”
“Searching for you, Huma,” said the mage with a wry smile. He leaned back against the tree and wearily closed his eyes. “They will not be looking very hard for me.” The Knight appeared disturbed by this. His expression grave, he concentrated on his cleaning, rubbing hard at a stubborn speck, “You have to understand them, Magius—” he began.
“Huma . . .” Tas repeated. “Magius .. .” He stared at the two, blinked in wonder. Then he stared down at the Device of Time Journeying. “Do you suppose . . . ?”
“I understand them quite well, Huma,” Magius returned. “The average Solamnic Knight is an ignorant, superstitious who believes all the dark tales about wizards told to him by his nursery maid in order to frighten him into keeping quiet at night, in consequence of which he expects me to start leaping through camp naked, gibbering and ranting and transforming him into a newt with a wave of my staff. Not that I couldn’t do it, mind you,” Magius continued with a quirk of his brow and the twist of an infectious smile. “And don’t think I haven’t considered it. Spending five minutes as a newt would be an interesting change for most of them. Expand their minds, if nothing else.”
“I don’t think I’d much care for life as a newt,” said Huma.
“You, alone, are different, my friend,” Magius said, his tone softening. Reaching out his hand, he rested it on the Knight’s wrist. “You are not afraid of new ideas. You are not afraid of that which you do not understand. Even as a child, you did not fear to be my friend.”
“You will teach them to think better of wizards, Magius,” said Huma, resting his hand over his friend’s. “You will teach them to view magic and those who wield it with respect.”
“I will not,” said Magius coolly, “for I really have no care what they think of me. If anyone can change their obsolete, outdated and outmoded views, you are the one to do it. And you had best do it quickly, Huma,” he added, his mocking tone now serious. “The Dark Queen’s power grows daily. She is raising vast armies. Countless thousands of evil creatures flock to her standard. These goblins would never before have dared to attack a company of Knights, but you saw with what ferocity they struck us this morning. I begin to think that it is not the whip they fear, but the wrath of the Dark Queen should they fail.”
“Yet she will fail. She must fail, Magius,” said Huma. “She and her evil dragons must be driven from the world, sent back to the Abyss. For if she is not defeated, we will live as do these wretched goblins, live our lives in fear.” Huma sighed, shook his head. “Although, I admit to you, dear friend, I do not see how that is possible. The numbers of her minions are countless, their power immense—”
“But you do defeat her!” Tasslehoff cried, unable to restrain himself any longer. Freeing himself from Conundrum’s frantic grasp, Tas scrambled to his feet and burst out from underneath the pine trees.
Huma jumped up, drawing his sword in one, swift movement. Magius extended the staff with the crystal held fast in the dragon’s claw, aimed the staff at the kender, and began to speak words that Tas recognized by their spidery sound as being words of magic.
Knowing that perhaps he didn’t have much time before he was turned into a newt, Tasslehoff accelerated his conversation.
“You raise an army of heroes, and you fight the Queen of Darkness herself, and while you die, Huma, and you die, too, Magius—I’m really very sorry about that, by the way—you do send all the evil dragons back to—ulp”
Several things happened simultaneously with that “ulp.” Two large, hairy, and foul-smelling goblin hands grabbed hold Conundrum, while another yellow-skinned, slavering-jawed goblin seized hold of Tasslehoff.
Before the kender had time to draw his blade, before Conundrum had time to draw his breath, a blazing arc of lightning flared from the staff and struck the goblin who had hold of Conundrum. Huma ran his sword through the goblin trying to drag off Tas.
“There are more goblins coming,” said Huma grimly. “You had best take to your heels, Kender.” Flapping goblin feet could be heard crashing through the trees, their guttural voices raised in hideous howls, promising death. Huma and Magius stood back to back, Huma with his sword drawn, Magius wielding his staff.
“Don’t worry!” Tasslehoff cried. “I have my knife. It’s called Rabbit-slayer.” Opening a pouch, he began searching among his things. “Caramon named it. You don’t know him—”
“Are you mad?” Conundrum screamed, sounding like the noon whistle at Mount Nevermind, a whistle that never, on any account, goes off at noon.
A hand touched Tasslehoff on the shoulder. A voice in his ear whispered, “Not now. It is not yet time.”
“I beg your pardon?” Tasslehoff turned to see who was talking.
And kept turning. And turning.
Then he was still, and the world was turning, and it was all a mass of swirling color, and he didn’t know if he was on his head or his heels, and Conundrum was at his side, shrieking, and then it was all very, very dark.
In the midst of the darkness and the turning and the shrieking, Tasslehoff had one thought, one important thought, a thought so important that he made sure to hang onto it with all his brain.
“I found the past.”
8
The Coming of the God
Rain fell on the Solamnic plains. The rain had been falling without letup since the Knights’ crushing defeat by Mina’s force at the city of Solanthus. Following the loss of the city, Mina had warned the surviving Knights that she meant next to take the city of Sanction. She had also told them to think on the power of the One God, who was responsible for the Solamnic’s defeat. This done, she had bidden them ride off in safety, to spread the word of the One God. The Knights didn’t have much choice but to glumly obey the command of their conqueror. They rode for days through the rain, heading for Lord Ulrich’s manor house, located about fifty east of Solanthus. The rain was chill and soaked everything. Knights and what remained of their meager force were wet coated with mud, and shivering from the cold. The wounded they brought with them soon grew feverish, and many of them died.