The human, impatient in the way of his race, spoke first. "Thank you. I think the buggers would have had me there if you hadn't dropped in when you did."
Ash nodded, squinting as he concentrated on the words. The dialect was thick to his ears, but discernible- it was similar to the Qualinesti trading tongue that he had learned early in his life.
"You fellas put up quite a fight," the man continued, wiping his blade with a square of dirty cloth. He seemed uncomfortable by Ash's silence, as if it would soothe him to have the night filled with sounds. "Do you understand a word I'm saying?" he finally demanded, exasperated.
"Yes. Come with me." Ash started down the ravine, noting for the first time that dawn's pale blossom had begun to spread across the sky. Shrugging, the knight fell into step behind him. They descended the stone steps near the end of the rocky cut, as the walls that had bracketed them gradually gave way to the rolling earth of the surrounding forest.
So effective had been their blocking maneuver that none of the lizardmen had escaped. Several braves probed through the gory mess in the ravine, chopping or stabbing wherever they found a sign of life. The others, Faltath in the lead, gathered on the lake shore at the mouth of the gully.
When Ash and the knight walked toward them, a grim silence fell across the warriors of the tribe. Hazel eyes glared, unblinking, and the Knight of Solamnia stood a little straighter, walked a little more firmly. Ashtaway noted the change in the man's demeanor, not surprised to observe that the fellow had a strong underpinning of pride.
Faltath stepped forward, speaking rapidly to Ash in the tribal tongue of the wild elves. "It is bad enough that you do not slay this human. Why did you tell me that he should remain unharmed by the others of the tribe? Do you deny that he is a human?"
"He is a human."
"Perhaps you have forgotten the tales of our fathers-of the humans who scoured the forest for our people? Who slew them without compunction, that they could torch the woodlands and create their abominable fields?"
"I remember the tales," Ashtaway replied. "But I remember other, older stories as well-legends of another dragon war, when elves and knights fought together to bring evil to its knees. I am wondering if Krynn is not facing another such time. We know that a deadly war rages, and that we are no longer free from its reach."
None of the Kagonesti replied. For several minutes, the braves scowled at the knight, who stood rigidly beside Ashtaway. The elven expressions remained unchanging, but Ash knew that they were considering his arguments. Finally he judged that enough time had passed for him to continue.
"This knight, in particular, slew many of our enemies. His actions in battle ensured that our victory would be complete-more complete than we could have hoped. I offer him my protection-it is the very minimum of the debt we owe him."
Ashtaway said the words bluntly, and no physical reaction showed on the faces of the warriors. Still, he was somewhat surprised at his own temerity. His fellow braves, impassive though they were, must be shocked, Ash knew-by offering his protection, the elf had declared to his lifelong companions that they would have to kill him before they would be able to harm the human.
Another long silence followed. The human's eyes flicked from Ash to the rest of the tribe, and the elf sensed the man shifting his weight from foot to foot-so gradually that the movement was practically imperceptible. The Kagonesti was grateful that the fellow had the good manners not to interrupt the meditative silence of the band.
"You, Ashtaway, have earned a great measure of this victory for our tribe. We should respect your words, and your wishes. But now tell us: Is there something about this human that leads you to extend him your protection?" Balkas, the eagle-eyed archer, scowled in concentration as he spoke to Ashtaway. Clearly the young warrior was puzzled, but Ash was gratified to see that he was also willing to listen and consider.
"In the forest camp I told you of the dragons I had seen, and their battle against human knights. This man was the leader of those knights, and though I thought I saw him perish in flames, he still lives. I would find out his story. And, too, it seems that a man who has faced dragons and countless bakali deserves a better death than an arrow in the back."
"Shoot him from the front, then," growled Faltath menacingly.
The knight understood the warrior's hostility and stiffened reflexively. Yet he made no move to draw his weapon or to speak. Instead he waited with patience that, Ashtaway guessed, must require a great amount of effort from the human. After all, everyone knew that mankind's world was a place of frantic pace and impatient activity. The Kagonesti had no regrets about his decision. With every passing moment, the feeling that this human was worth Ash's protection grew stronger.
And even the angry Faltath, Ash knew, would not challenge the protection extended by his friend. Because of Ash's simple statement, any aggression against the man would constitute a great taboo against the tribe's traditions and customs.
"Let us return to the village," Ash suggested. 'There we can make a dawn fire and smoke the pipe of victory."
"That is a good idea," Balkas agreed, stepping forward and scrutinizing the man. The elf lapsed into the tongue of the traders. "I would like to know what it is about you that has caused my old friend to act like a madman."
Chuckling easily, Ash felt the tension drain away. His step was light, relaxed, as he led his new companion back toward the woods.
Chapter 14
"I am called Asbtamay," tbe warrior offered as be led tbe buman toward the village clearing. "Sir Kamford Willis, Knight of the Rose, at your service." "I recognized you from your sword, though, of course, I did not know your name." "Recognized me from where?" the human asked, puzzled. "I witnessed your fight against the red dragons-you and the men who rode with you." Ash described his vantage of that heroic, doomed skirmish. "When the dragon's breath swept across you, I felt certain you must be dead. Perhaps I should have looked more closely." "It was the mud," Sir Kamford explained, shaking his head in wonder. "I should have perished-all the men of my company did. But when I fell to the ground, that wyrm fell on top of me and pressed me right into that muck-it was quite wet in that clearing, after all. I had to squirm out before I suffocated, and 1 assure you that was no easy task. A small dragon it may have been, but plenty enough weight to trap a man for good! Then, by the time I emerged, the other dragon was gone."
"How did you come to the Bluelake? And why did you stand against the bakali?"
"As to the first question, I was lost. The mountains kept forcing me south when I wanted to go west-traveling a lot slower than I would have liked, since I lost my horse. I was working my way along the shore, hoping I could swing westward past the tail of the lake. Then, yesterday, I saw the smoke from the burning village, and 1 got close enough to see the lizardmen-no friends to any knight. I found a good hiding place under the bank, right at the foot of the ravine. Naturally, I wanted to get an idea whether or not this force intended to move against Solamnia." Sir Kamford continued to explain as they reached the edge of the vallen- wood glade, where Kagonesti warriors halted their labor of removing bakali bodies to watch the human's arrival with cold, impassive eyes.
"Then, when you launched your attack and took them by surprise, I saw the chance to trap the scaly fellows right here. But I did wonder why you didn't send some of your braves to seal off the escape route."