‘But—my lord—’ the innkeeper said hesitantly, ‘there have been messages from Dragon Highlord Ariakas...’
‘If you show your face in this room—after you bring the wine—I’ll cut off your ears,’ Kitiara said pleasantly. But, as she spoke, she drew a gleaming dagger from her belt.
The innkeeper turned pale, nodded, and left hurriedly.
Kit laughed. ‘There!’ she said, wiggling her toes in their blue silken hose. ‘Now, I’ll take off your boots—’
‘I—I really must go,’ Tanis said, sweating beneath his armor. ‘My c-company commander will be missing me...’
‘But I’m commander of your company!’ Kit said gaily. ‘And tomorrow you’ll be commander of your company. Or higher, if you like. Now, sit down.’
Tanis could do nothing but obey, knowing, however, that in his heart he wanted to do nothing but obey.
‘It’s so good to see you,’ Kit said, kneeling before him and tugging at his boot. ‘I’m sorry I missed the reunion in Solace. How is everyone? How is Sturm? Probably fighting with the Knights, I suppose. I’m not surprised you two separated. That was one friendship I never could understand—’
Kitiara talked on, but Tanis ceased to listen. He could only look at her. He had forgotten how lovely she was, how sensual, inviting. Desperately he concentrated on his own danger. But all he could think of were nights of bliss spent with Kitiara.
At that moment, Kit looked up into his eyes. Caught and held by the passion she saw in them, she let his boot slip from her hands. Involuntarily, Tanis reached out and drew her near. Kitiara slid her hand around his neck and pressed her lips against his.
At her touch, the desires and longings that had tormented Tanis for five years surged through his body. Her fragrance—warm and womanly—mingled with the smell of leather and steel. Her kiss was like flame. The pain was unbearable. Tanis knew only one way to end it.
When the innkeeper knocked on the door, he received no answer. Shaking his head in admiration—this was the third man in as many days—he set the wine upon the floor and left.
‘And now,’ Kitiara murmured sleepily, lying in Tanis’s arms. ‘Tell me about my little brothers. Are they with you? The last I saw them, you were escaping from Tarsis with that elf woman.’
‘That was you!’ Tanis said, remembering the blue dragons.
‘Of course!’ Kit cuddled nearer. ‘I like the beard,’ she said, stroking his face. ‘It hides those weak elvish features. How did you get into the army?’
How indeed? thought Tanis frantically.
‘We...were captured in Silvanesti. One of the officers convinced me I was a fool to fight the D-Dark Queen.’
‘And my little brothers?’
‘We—we were separated,’ Tanis said weakly.
‘A pity,’ Kit said with a sigh. ‘I’d like to see them again. Caramon must be a giant by now. And Raistlin—I hear he is quite a skilled mage. Still wearing the Red Robes?’
‘I—I guess,’ Tanis muttered. ‘I haven’t seen him—’
‘That won’t last long,’ Kit said complacently. ‘He’s like me. Raist always craved power...’
‘What about you?’ Tanis interrupted quickly. ‘What are you doing here, so far from the action? The fighting’s north—’
‘Why, I’m here for the same reason you are,’ Kit answered, opening her eyes wide. ‘Searching for the Green Gemstone Man, of course.’
‘That’s where I’ve seen him before!’ Tanis said, memories flooding his mind. The man on the Perechon! The man in Pax Tharkas, escaping with poor Eben. The man with the green gemstone embedded in the center of his chest.
‘You’ve found him!’ Kitiara said, sitting up eagerly. ‘Where, Tanis? Where?’ Her brown eyes glittered.
‘I’m not sure,’ Tanis said, faltering. ‘I’m not sure it was him. I—we were just given a rough description...’
‘He looks about fifty in human years,’ Kit said in excitement, ‘but he has strange, young eyes, and his hands are young. And in the flesh of his chest is a green gemstone. We had reports he was sighted in Flotsam. That’s why the Dark Queen sent me here. He’s the key, Tanis! Find him—and no force on Krynn can stop us!’
‘Why?’ Tanis made himself ask calmly. ‘What’s he got that’s so essential to—uh—our side winning this war?’
‘Who knows?’ Shrugging her slender shoulders, Kit lay back in Tanis’s arms. ‘You’re shivering. Here, this will warm you.’ She kissed his neck, running her hands over his body. ‘We were just told the most important thing we could do to end this war in one swift stroke is to find this man.’
Tanis swallowed, feeling himself warming to her touch.
‘Just think,’ Kitiara whispered in his ear, her breath hot and moist against his skin, ‘if we found him—you and I—we would have all of Krynn at our feet! The Dark Queen would reward us beyond anything we ever dreamed! You and I, together always, Tanis. Let’s go now!’
Her words echoed in his mind. The two of them, together, forever. Ending the war. Ruling Krynn. No, he thought, feeling his throat constrict. This is madness! Insanity! My people, my friends...Yet, haven’t I done enough? What do I owe any of them, humans or elves? Nothing! They are the ones who have hurt me, derided me! All these years, a cast-out. Why think about them? Me! It’s time I thought about me for a change! This is the woman I’ve dreamed of for so long. And she can be mine! Kitiara...so beautiful, so desirable...
‘No!’ Tanis said harshly, then, ‘No,’ he said more gently. Reaching out his hand, he pulled her back near him. ‘Tomorrow will do. If it was him, he isn’t going anywhere. I know...’
Kitiara smiled and, with a sigh, lay back down. Tanis, bending over her, kissed her passionately. Far away, he could hear the waves of the Blood Sea of Istar crashing on the shore.
10
The High Clerist’s Tower.
The Knighting.
By morning, the storm over Solamnia had blown itself out. The sun rose, a disk of pale gold that warmed nothing. The knights who stood watch upon the battlements of the Tower of the High Clerist went thankfully to their beds, talking of the wonders they had seen during the awful night, for such a storm as this had not been known in the lands of Solamnia since the days after the Cataclysm. Those who took over the watch from their fellow knights were nearly as weary; no one had slept.
Now they looked out upon a plain covered with snow and ice. Here and there the landscape was dotted with flickering flames where trees, blasted by the jagged lightning that had streaked out of the sky during the blizzard, burned eerily. But it was not to those strange flames the eyes of the knights turned as they ascended the battlements. It was to the flames that burned upon the horizon—hundreds and hundreds of flames, filling the clear, cold air with their foul smoke.
The campfires of war. The campfires of the dragonarmies.
One thing stood between the Dragon Highlord and victory in Solamnia. That ‘thing’ as the Highlord often referred to it was the Tower of the High Clerist.
Built long ago by Vinas Solamnus, founder of the knights, in the only pass through the snow-capped, cloud-shrouded Vingaard Mountains. the Tower protected Palanthas, capital city of Solamnia, and the harbor known as the Gates of Paladine. Let the Tower fall, and Palanthas would belong to the dragonarrmies. It was a soft city—a city of wealth and beauty, a city that had turned its back upon the world to gaze with admiring eyes into its own mirror.
With Palanthas in her hands and the harbor under her control, the HighLord could easily starve the rest of Solamnia into submission and then wipe out the troublesome knights.
The Dragon Highlord, called the Dark Lady by her troops was not in camp this day. She was gone on secret business to the east. But she had left loyal and able commanders behind, commanders who would do anything to win her favor.