‘We’ll not accept charity,’ the tall, fur-cloaked man said.
‘We won’t?’ asked the big man wistfully, staring at the smoked meat with longing eyes.
‘Riverwind,’ the woman remonstrated, putting a gentle hand on his arm. The half-elf, too, seemed about to interpose when the red-robed man, who had ordered the hot water, reached out and picked up a coin from the table.
Balancing the coin on the back of his bony, metallic-colored hand, the man suddenly and effortlessly sent it dancing along his knuckles. William’s eyes opened wide. His two friends at the bar came closer to see better. The coin flickered in and out of the red-robed man’s fingers, spinning and jumping. It vanished high in the air, only to reappear above the mage’s head in the form of six coins, spinning around his hood. With a gesture, he sent them to spin around William’s head. The sailors watched in open-mouthed wonder.
‘Take one for your trouble,’ said the mage in a whisper.
Hesitantly, William tried to grab the coins that whirled past his eyes, but his hand went right through them! Suddenly all six coins disappeared. One only remained now, resting in the palm of the red-robed mage.
‘I give you this in payment,’ the mage said with a sly smile, ‘but be careful. It may burn a hole in your pocket.’
William accepted the coin gingerly. Holding it between two fingers, he gazed at it suspiciously. Then the coin burst into flame! With a startled yelp, William dropped it to the floor, stomping on it with his foot. His two friends burst out laughing. Picking up the coin, William discovered it to be perfectly cold and undamaged.
‘That’s worth the meat!’ the innkeeper said, grinning.
‘And a night’s lodgings,’ added his friend, the sailor, slapping down a handful of coins.
‘I believe,’ said Raistlin softly, glancing around at the others, ‘that we have solved our problems.’
Thus was born The Red Wizard and His Wonderful Illusions, a traveling road show that is still talked of today as far south as Port Balifor and as far north as the Ruins.
The very next night the red-robed mage began to perform his tricks to an admiring audience of William’s friends. The word spread rapidly. After the mage had performed in the Pig and Whistle for about a week, Riverwind—at first opposed to the whole idea—was forced to admit that Raistlin’s act seemed likely to solve not only their financial problems but other, more pressing problems as well.
The shortage of money was the most urgent. The companions might have been able to live off the land—even in the winter, both Riverwind and Tanis being skilled hunters. But they needed money to buy passage on a ship to take them to Sancrist. Once they had the money, they needed to be able to travel freely through enemy-occupied lands.
In his youth, Raistlin had often used his considerable talents at sleight of hand to earn bread for himself and his brother. Although this was frowned on by his master, who threatened to expel the young mage from his school, Raistlin had become quite successful. Now his growing powers in magic gave him a range not possible before. He literally kept his audiences spellbound with tricks and phantasms.
At Raistlin’s command, white-winged ships sailed up and down the bar at the Pig and Whistle, birds flew out of soup tureens, while dragons peered through the windows, breathing fire upon the startled guests. In the grand finale, the mage—resplendent in red robes sewn by Tika—appeared to be totally consumed in raging flames, only to walk in through the front door moments later (to tumultuous applause) and calmly drink a glass of white wine to the health of the guests.
Within a week, the Pig and Whistle did more business than William had done in a year. Better still—as far as he was concerned—his friends were able to forget their troubles. Soon, however, unwanted guests began to arrive. At first, he had been angered by the appearance of draconians and goblins in the crowd, but Tanis placated him, and William grudgingly permitted them to watch.
Tanis was, in fact, pleased to see them. It worked out well from the half-elf’s point of view and solved their second problem. If the Highlord’s troops enjoyed the show and spread the word, the companions could travel the countryside unmolested.
It was their plan—after consulting with William—to make for Flotsam, a city north of Port Balifor, located on the Blood Sea of Istar. Here they hoped to find a ship. No one in Port Balifor would give them passage, William explained. All the local shipowners were in the employ of (or their vessels had been confiscated by) the Dragon Highlords. But Flotsam was a known haven for those more interested in money than politics.
The companions stayed at the Pig and Whistle for a month. William provided free room and board and even allowed them to keep all the money they made. Though Riverwind protested this generosity, William stated firmly that all he cared about was seeing his old customers come back.
During this time, Raistlin refined and enlarged his act which, at first consisted only of his illusions. But the mage tired rapidly, so Tika offered to dance and give him time to rest between acts. Raistlin was dubious, but Tika sewed a costume for herself that was so alluring Caramon was—at first—totally opposed to the scheme. But Tika only laughed at him. Her dancing was a success and increased the money they collected dramatically. Raistlin added her immediately to the act.
Finding the crowds enjoyed this diversion, the mage thought of others. Caramon—blushing furiously—was persuaded to perform feats of strength, the highlight coming when he lifted stout William over his head with one hand. Tanis amazed the crowd with his elven ability to ‘see’ in the dark. But Raistlin was startled one day when Goldmoon came to him as he was counting the money from the previous night’s performance.
‘I would like to sing in the show tonight,’ she said.
Raistlin looked up at her incredulously. His eyes flicked to Riverwind. The tall Plainsman nodded reluctantly.
‘You have a powerful voice,’ Raistlin said, sliding the money into a pouch and drawing the string tightly. ‘I remember quite well. The last song I heard you sing in the Inn of the Last Home touched off a riot that nearly got us killed.’
Goldmoon flushed, remembering the fateful song that had introduced her to the group. Scowling, Riverwind laid his hand on her shoulder.
‘Come away!’ he said harshly, glaring at Raistlin. ‘I warned you—’
But Goldmoon shook her head stubbornly, lifting her chin in a familiar, imperious gesture. ‘I will sing,’ she said coolly, ‘and Riverwind will accompany me. I have written a song.’
‘Very well,’ the mage snapped, slipping the money pouch into his robes. ‘We will try it this evening.’
The Pig and Whistle was crowded that night. It was a diverse audience—small children and their parents, sailors, draconians, goblins, and several kender, who caused everyone to keep an eye on his belongings. William and two helpers bustled about, serving drinks and food. Then the show began.
The crowd applauded Raistlin’s spinning coins, laughed when an illusory pig danced upon the bar, and scrambled out of their chairs in terror when a giant troll thundered in through a window. Bowing, the mage left to rest. Tika came on.
The crowd, particularly the draconians, cheered Tika’s dancing, banging their mugs on the table.
Then Goldmoon appeared before them, dressed in a gown of pale blue. Her silver-gold hair flowed over her shoulders like water shimmering in the moonlight. The crowd hushed instantly. Saying nothing, she sat down in a chair on the raised platform William had hastily constructed. So beautiful was she that not a murmur escaped the crowd. All waited expectantly.