‘Come with you,’ Gnosh repeated in astonishment, ‘to the Council’—he clasped his hands together in excitement—‘where perhaps I’ll be asked to make a report, do you think—’
‘I wouldn’t doubt it in the least,’ Fizban answered.
‘Right away, just give me time to pack, where’s my papers—’
Gnosh dashed off. Fizban whipped around to face the other gnomes who had been sneaking up behind him, reaching out eagerly for his staff. He scowled so alarmingly that they stumbled backward and vanished into the Examination Room.
‘What did you find out?’ Tas asked, hesitantly approaching Fizban. The old mage seemed surrounded by darkness. ‘The gnomes didn’t do anything to it, did they?’
‘No, no.’ Fizban sighed. ‘Fortunately for them. For it is still active and very powerful. Much will depend on the decisions a few make—perhaps the fate of the world.’
‘What do you mean? Won’t the Council make the decisions?’
‘You don’t understand, my boy,’ Fizban said gently. ‘Stop a moment, I must rest.’ The mage sat down, leaning against a wall. Shaking his head, he continued. ‘I concentrated my will on the orb, Tas. Oh, not to control dragons,’ he added, seeing the kender’s eyes widen. ‘I looked into the future.’
‘What did you see?’ Tas asked hesitantly, not certain from the mage’s somber expression that he wanted to know.
‘I saw two roads stretching before us. If we take the easiest, it will appear the best at the beginning, but darkness will fall at the end, never to be lifted. If we take the other road, it will be hard and difficult to travel. It could cost the lives of some we love, dear boy. Worse, it might cost others their very souls. But only through these great sacrifices will we find hope.’ Fizban closed his eyes.
‘And this involves the orb?’ Tas asked, shivering.
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know what must be done to...to take the d-dark road?’ Tas dreaded the answer.
‘I do,’ Fizban replied in a low voice. ‘But the decisions have not been left in my hands. That will be up to others.’
‘I see,’ Tas sighed. ‘Important people, I suppose. People like kings and elflords and knights.’ Then Fizban’s words echoed in his mind. The lives of some we love...
Suddenly a lump formed in Tas’s throat, choking him. His head dropped into his hands. This adventure was turning out all wrong! Where was Tanis? And dear old Caramon? And pretty Tika? He had tried not to think about them, particularly after that dream.
And Flint—I shouldn’t have gone without him, Tas thought miserably. He might die, he might be dead right now! The lives of some you love! I never thought about any of us dying—not really. I always figured that if we were together we could beat anything! But now, we’ve gotten scattered somehow. And things are going all wrong!
Tas felt Fizban’s hand stroke his topknot, his one great vanity. And for the first time in his life, the kender felt very lost and alone and frightened. The mage’s grip tightened around him affectionately. Burying his face in Fizban’s sleeve, Tas began to cry.
Fizban patted him gently. ‘Yes,’ the mage repeated, ‘important people.’
6
The Council of Whitestone.
An important person.
The Council of Whitestone met upon the twenty-eighth day of December, a day known as Famine Day in Solamnia, for it commemorated the suffering of the people during the first winter following the Cataclysm. Lord Gunthar thought it fitting to hold the Council meeting on this day, which was marked by fasting and meditation.
It had been over a month since the armies sailed for Palanthas. The news Gunthar received from that city was not good. A report had arrived early on the morning of the twenty-eighth, in fact. Reading it twice over, he sighed heavily, frowned, and tucked the paper into his belt.
The Council of Whitestone had met once before within the recent past, a meeting precipitated by the arrival of the refugee elves in Southern Ergoth and the appearance of the dragonarmies in northern Solamnia. This Council meeting was several months in the planning, and so all members—either seated or advisory—were represented. Seated members, those who could vote, included the Knights of Solamnia, the gnomes, the hill dwarves, the dark-skinned, sea-faring people of Northern Ergoth, and a representative of the Solamnic exiles living on Sancrist. Advisory members were the elves, the mountain dwarves, and the kender. These members were invited to express their opinions, but they could not vote.
The first Council meeting, however, had not gone well. Some of the old feuds and animosities between the races represented burst into flame. Arman Kharas, representative of the mountain dwarves, and Duncan Hammerrock, of the hill dwarves, had to be physically restrained at one point, or blood from that ancient feud might have flowed again. Alhana Starbreeze, representative of the Silvanesti in her father’s absence, refused to speak a word during the entire session. Alhana had come only because Porthios of the Qualinesti was there. She feared an alliance between the Qualinesti and the humans and was determined to prevent it.
Alhana need not have worried. Such was the distrust between humans and elves, that they spoke to each other only out of politeness. Not even Lord Gunthar’s impassioned speech in which he had declared, ‘Our unity begins peace; our division ends hope!’ made an impression.
Porthios’s answer to this had been to blame the dragons’ reappearance on the humans. The humans, therefore, could extricate themselves from this disaster. Shortly after Porthios made his position clear, Alhana rose haughtily and left, leaving no one with any doubts about the position of the Silvanesti.
The mountain dwarf, Arman Kharas, had declared that his people would be willing to help, but that until the Hammer of Kharas was found, the mountain dwarves could not be united. No one knew at the time that the companions would soon return the Hammer, so Gunthar was forced to discount the aid of the dwarves. The only person, in fact, who offered help was Kronin Thistleknott, chief of the kender. Since the last thing any sane country wanted was the ‘aid’ of an army of kenders, this gesture was received with polite smiles, while the members exchanged horrified looks behind Kronin’s back.
The first Council disbanded, therefore, without accomplishing much of anything.
Gunthar had higher hopes for this second Council meeting. The discovery of the dragon orb, of course, put everything in a much brighter light. Representatives from both elven factions had arrived. These included the Speaker of the Suns, who brought with him a human claiming to be a cleric of Paladine. Gunthar had heard a great deal about Elistan from Sturm, and he looked forward to meeting him. Just who would represent the Silvanesti, Gunthar wasn’t certain. He assumed it was the lord who had been declared regent following Alhana Starbreeze’s mysterious disappearance.
The elves had arrived on Sancrist two days ago. Their tents stood out in the fields, gaily colored silk flags fluttering in brilliant contrast to the gray, stormy sky. They were the only other race to attend. There had not been time to send a message to the mountain dwarves, and the hill dwarves were reported to be fighting for their lives against the dragonarmies; no messenger could reach them.
Gunthar hoped this meeting would unite the humans and the elves in the great fight to drive the dragonarmies from Ansalon. But his hopes were dashed before the meeting began.
After scanning the report from the armies in Palanthas, Gunthar left his tent, preparing to make a final tour of the Glade of the Whitestone to see that everything was in order. Wills, his retainer, came dashing after him.
‘My lord,’ the old man puffed, ‘return immediately.’
‘What is it?’ Gunthar asked. But the old retainer was too much out of breath to reply.
Sighing, the Solamnic lord went back to his tent where he found Lord Michael, dressed in full armor, pacing nervously.