"Palin!" The voice was urgent.
"Yes," said Palin thickly. It took an effort to talk, his tongue felt and tasted as though gully dwarves had taken up residence in his mouth. The thought made his stomach lurch, and he abandoned it hurriedly. "Yes," he said again, "I'm… all right…"
"Thank Paladine!" groaned the voice, which Palin recognized now as Tanin's. "By the gods, you looked so pale, lying there, I thought you were dead!"
"I wish I was," Palin said feelingly.
"We know what you mean," said Sturm, a very subdued and miserable Sturm, to judge by the sound.
Twisting around, Palin was able to see his brothers. If I look as bad as they do, he thought, no wonder Tanin believed I was dead. Both young men were pale beneath their tan skin, their pallor had a faint greenish tinge, and there was ample evidence on the deck below that both had been extremely sick. Their red curls were tangled and wet and matted, their clothes soaked. Both lay on their backs, their hands and feet tied with rough leather thongs. Tanin had a large bruise on his forehead and, in addition, his wrists were cut and bleeding. He had obviously been trying to free himself and failed.
"This is all my fault," said Tanin glumly, with another groan as nausea welled up inside of him. "What a fool I was, not to see this coming!"
"Don't give yourself all the credit, Big Brother," said Sturm. "I went right along with you. We should have listened to Palin — »
"No, you shouldn't have," Palin mumbled, closing his eyes against the sight of the sea and sky constantly shiftingplaces in the porthole. "I was being a superior, self righteous twit, as both of you tried to point out." He was silent a moment, trying to decide if he was going to be sick or not. Finally, he thought he wasn't and added, "We're in this together now, anyway. Either of you know where we are and what's going on?"
"We're in the hold of a ship," Tanin said. "And, from the sounds of it, they've got some great beast chained up there."
"A dragon?" Palin asked quietly.
"Could be." Tanin answered. "I remember Tanis describing the black dragon that attacked them in Xak Tsaroth. He heard a gurgling noise and a hissing, like water boiling in a kettle…"
"But why would anyone chain a dragon up on a ship?" argued Sturm weakly.
"All kinds of reasons," Palin muttered. "Most of them nasty."
"Probably keeps slaves like us in line. Palin," called Tanin in a low voice, "can you do anything? To free us, I mean? You know, your magic?"
"No," said Palin bitterly. "My spell components are gone — Not that I could get to them if I had them, since my hands are tied. My staff — MY STAFF!" He recalled with a pang. Fearfully he struggled to sit up, glanced around, then breathed a sigh of relief. The Staff of Magius stood in a corner, leaning up against the hull of the ship. For some reason, it did not move when the ship listed, but remained standing perfectly still, seemingly unaffected by the laws of nature. "My staff might help, but the only thing I know how to make it do is give light," he admitted shamefacedly. "Besides," he added, lying wearily back down, "my head aches so I can barely remember my name, much less a magic spell."
The young men were silent, each thinking. Tanin struggled against his bonds once more, then gave it up. The leather had been soaked with water and had tightened when it dried so that it was impossible for the big man to escape. Then Sturm gave a low whistle and twisted his body to face his younger brother.
"Palin," he said softly, "I remember a story about Uncle Raistlin, how he and Father were captured by bandits and he freed himself using a knife he had hidden on his wrist. Do you — »
"Yes," said Palin. "I've got a knife like his. Justarius sent it to me when I passed the Test. It's attached to my wrist with a thong." He paused, then said reluctantly, "And I have yet to figure out how the damn thing works."
Sturm and Tanin, sitting up hopefully at the beginning of this conversation, lay back down with groans at its conclusion.
"So, it looks like we're prisoners in this wretched hole — »
"Prisoners?" called a booming voice. "Losers, maybe. But prisoners, never!"
A trapdoor in the ceiling opened, and a short, stocky figure in bright red velvet with black curling hair and beard poked his head through. "My guests you are!" cried Dougan Redhammer lustily, peering at them through the hatch. "And fortunate beyond all humans, because I have chosen you to accompany me on my grand quest! A quest that will make you famous throughout the world! A quest that will make that minor adventure your parents were involved in seem like a kender scavenger hunt!" Dougan leaned down so far through the hatch that his face became quite red with the exertion and he almost tumbled through upside down.
"We're not going on any quest of yours, dwarf!" Tanin said with an oath. And, for once, both Palin and Sturm were in full agreement.
Leering down at them through the hatch, Dougan grinned. "Wanna bet?
"You see, lads, it's a matter of honor," said the dwarf, eyeing them complacently. Throwing down a rope ladder, Dougan — somewhat perilously — climbed down into the hold of the ship, his journey being hampered by the fact that he couldn't see his feet for his great belly. Finally, after several slips, he made it. Reaching the deck, he rested a moment from his labors, removing a lace-covered handkerchief from the sleeve of his coat and using it to mop his perspiring face.
"I tell you, lads," he said solemnly, "I'm feeling a bit under myself. By Reorx, but you can drink! Just like you said." Stumbling slightly as the deck listed beneath him, the dwarf pointed at Sturm. "You, especially! I swear by my beard" — he stroked it — "that I saw two of yourself, lad, and I was workin' on four before your eyes rolled back in your head and you crashed to the floor. Shook the foundations of the inn, you did. I had to pay damages."
"You said you were going to cut us loose," Tanin snarled.
"That I did," Dougan muttered, drawing a sharp knife from his belt. Making his way around the sea chests, the dwarf began to saw away industriously at the leather thongs that bound Tanin's wrists.
"If we aren't prisoners," Palin asked, "then why are we bound hand and foot?"
"Why, laddie," said the dwarf, looking around at Palin with an injured air, "it was for your own safety! I had only your welfare at heart! You were so enthusiastic when you saw we were carrying you aboard this fine vessel, that we had to restrain your enthusiasm — »
"Enthusiasm!" Tanin muttered. "We were out cold!" "Well, no, actually, you weren't," Dougan admitted. "Oh, he was." The dwarf jerked his head back at Palin. "Sleeping like he was in his mother's arms. But you two, as I saw the moment I clapped eyes on you, lads, are grand fighters. Perhaps you were wondering how you got that bit of a clout on your head — »
Tanin said nothing, simply glared at the dwarf. Sitting up, the young man gingerly put his hand to his forehead where there was a lump the size of an egg.
"Enthusiasm," said the dwarf solemnly, going over to cut Sturm loose. "That's one reason I chose you for my quest."
"The only quest I'd consider going on with you is to see you in the Abyss!" Tanin retorted stubbornly.
Lying back, Palin sighed. "My dear brother," he said wearily, "has it occurred to you that we have little choice in the matter? We're on a ship, miles away from land" — he glanced at Dougan, who nodded assent — "and completely at the mercy of this dwarf and his crew of cutthroats. Do you think he would release us from our bonds if we had the slightest chance of escaping?"
"Intelligent lad," said the dwarf approvingly, cutting Palin's ropes as Sturm sat up stiffly, rubbing his wrists. "But then, he's a mage. And they're all intelligent, at least so's I've heard. So intelligent," continued Dougan cunningly, "that I'm certain he'll think twice about casting any spells that might come to mind. A sleep spell, for example, might be very effective and give my cutthroat crew a rest, but can you three sail the ship? Besides," he continued, seeing Palin's grim expression, "as I said before — it's a matter of honor. You lost the bet, fair and square. I kept my part, I put you to bed. Now you must keep yours." Dougan's grin made the ends of his moustaches curl upwards. He stroked his beard in satisfaction. "You must pay the tab."