"Not quite, lad," said Dougan, looking uncomfortable. "For, you see, I know the true story. And that is why I'm on this quest."
"Which is right, then?" asked Tanin, with a wink at Palin.
"Neither," said Dougan, appearing even more uncomfortable. His head drooped down, his chin buried itself in his beard, while his hands fumbled at the golden buttons on his sopping-wet velvet coat. "You… uh… you see," he mumbled, making it extremely difficult for anyone to hear him over the splashing of the sea and the flapping of fish on the deck, "Reorx… uh… losttheGraygeminagameofbones."
"What?" asked Palin, leaning forward.
"Helostit," muttered the dwarf.
"I still didn't hear — »
"He lost the damn gem in a game of bones!" Dougan roared angrily, lifting his face and glaring around him. Terrified, the gnomes immediately scattered in all directions, more than a few getting clonked on the head by the sail as it whizzed past. "Morgion, God of decay and disease, tricked Reorx into making the gem. Morgion knew that if Chaos were loosed in the world, his evil power would grow. He challenged Reorx to a game, with the Graygem as the stakes and…" The dwarf fell silent, scowling down at his shoes.
"He gambled it in away in a bone game?" Sturm finished in amazement.
"Aye, lad," said Dougan, sighing heavily. "You see, Reorx has one little flaw. Just a tiny flaw, mind you, otherwise he is as fine and honorable a gentleman as one could hope to meet. But" — the dwarf heaved another sigh — "he does love his bottle, and he does love a good wager."
"Oh, so you know Reorx, do you?" Sturm said with a yawn that cracked his jaws.
"I'm proud to say so," said Dougan seriously, stroking his beard and curling his moustaches. "And, with his help, I've managed after all these years to locate the Graygem. With the assistance of these lads here" — he smote a passing gnome on the shoulder, completely bowling the little fellow over — "and with the help of you three fine young men, we'll recover it and… and…" Dougan stopped, seeming confused.
"And?"
"And return it to Reorx, naturally," the dwarf said, shrugging.
"Naturally," Tanin responded. Glancing over at Sturm, who had fallen asleep on the deck, the big man caught a gnome in the act of making off with his brother's helm. "Hey!" cried Tanin angrily, collaring the thief.
"Ijustwantedtolookatit!" whined the gnome, cringing. "Iwasgoingtogiveitbackhonest. You see," he said, talking more slowly as Tanin released his grip, "we have developed a revolutionary new design in helms. There's just a few problems with it, such as getting it off one's head, and I — »
"Thank you, we're not interested," Tanin growled, yanking the helm away from the gnome, who was admiring it lovingly. "C'mon, Little Brother," he said, turning to Palin. "Help me get Sturm to bed."
"Where is bed?" Palin asked tiredly. "And, no, I'm not going back into that foul-smelling hold again."
"Me either," Tanin said. He looked around the deck and pointed. "That lean-to-looking thing over there seems to be about the best place. At least it'll be dry."
He indicated several wooden planks that had been skillfully and ingeniously fit together to form a small shelter. Leaning against the hull, the planks were beneath the sail as it rumbled past, and protected those lying within from water and falling fish.
"It is dry," said Dougan smugly. "That's my bed."
"It was your bed," returned Tanin. Leaning down, he shook Sturm. "Wake up! We're not going to carry you! And hurry up, before that god-cursed sail decapitates us."
"What?" Sturm sat up, blinking drowsily.
"You can't do this!" roared the dwarf.
"Look, Dougan Redhammer!" Tanin said, bending down and staring the dwarf grimly in the eye. "I'm hung over, seasick, and I haven't had anything to eat all day. I've been doused with water, hit by fish, run over by a sail, and bored to death by kids' bedtime stories! I don't believe you, I don't believe your stupid quest." Tanin paused, seething, and raised a finger, shaking it at the dwarf's nose. "I'm going to sleep where I want to sleep and tomorrow, when I'm feeling better, I swear by the gods I'm going to make these little bastards turn this ship around and take us back home!"
"And if I stop you?" Dougan threatened with a leer, not at all disconcerted by Tanin's rage.
"Then there'll be a new figurehead on which ever end of this stupid boat is the front!" Tanin hissed through clenched teeth. "And it'll have a long, black beard!" Angrily, the big man stalked over to the lean-to and ducked inside. Sleepily, Sturm followed.
"If I were you, Dougan," Palin muttered, hurrying after them, "I'd keep out of his way! He's quite capable of doing what he says."
"Is he, lad? I'll keep that in mind," the dwarf replied, tugging thoughtfully at his beard.
The shelter was crammed with the dwarf's possessions — most of which appeared to be gaudy clothes. These Palin shoved unceremoniously out onto the deck with his foot. Tanin stretched out on the floor, Sturm collapsed next to him, and both were asleep almost as quickly as if their younger brother had cast a spell over them. Palin lay down in the small remaining space, hoping sleep would come to him as swiftly.
But he was not the campaigner his brothers were, he realized bitterly. Sturm could sleep in full armor on the sands of a desert while Tanin had been known to snore blissfully as lightning cut down a tree standing next to him. Soaked to the skin, shivering with cold, Palin lay on the deck and gave himself up to misery. He was hungry, but every time he thought of food, his stomach lurched. His muscles ached from the sickness, the bitter taste of salt water filled his mouth. He thought with longing of his bed at home; of clean, sweet-smelling sheets; of hours of peaceful study, sitting beneath the sheltering limbs of the vallenwood, his spellbook in his lap.
Closing his eyes, Palin tried to keep back the tears of homesickness, but it engulfed him like a wave. Reaching out his hand, he touched the Staff of Magius. And suddenly the memory of his uncle came to him. From where? Palin had no idea, Raistlin had died long before Palin was born. Perhaps it was from the staff… or maybe he was recalling some tale of his father's and it had become real to him now in his weakened state. Whatever the reason, Palin saw Raistlin clearly, lying on the ground in a dismal, rainswept forest. Huddled in his red robes, the mage was coughing, coughing until it seemed he could never draw breath again. Palin saw blood upon the ashen lips, he saw the frail body wracked by pain. But he heard him speak no word of complaint. Softly, Palin approached his uncle. The coughing ceased, the spasm eased. Lifting his head, Raistlin looked directly into Palin's eyes…
Bowing his head in shame, Palin drew the staff nearer to him, resting his cheek upon its cool, smooth wood and, relaxing, fell into sleep. But he thought he heard, in the final moment before he slipped over the edge of unconsciousness, the voice of the dwarf, and he thought he saw a head peering into the lean-to.
"I've a deck of cards here, lads… What do you say? High card sleeps here tonight?…"
CHAPTER FOUR
Both brothers knew that Tanin was quite capable of carrying out his threat to take over the ship, though just how he was going to force the gnomes to sail it was another matter entirely. During the night, the gnomes, just as firmly determined to continue the voyage, began to organize a supply of weapons. Since most of these weapons were of gnomish design, there was every possibility that they would do as much or more damage to the wielder as to the intended victim, and thus the outcome of the battle — two warriors and a mage against numerous gnomes and a dwarf
was open to question.
The question was, fortunately, never answered. The next morning the brothers were awakened by a tremendous crash, the heart-stopping sound of splintering wood, and the somewhat belated cry of "Land Ho!"