“Anyway,” Paxina continued, “that’s the way it was until about a month ago. Then, as best as we can figure, two things happened. First, someone killed the hetman of the ogres and took his place.”
“The new one’s named Kurthak, but they also call him the Black-Gazer,” Giffel said. “He’s smart, for an ogre.”
“Worse, he’s ambitious,” Paxina added. “Ruog, the old hetman, was content with sending small war bands on border raids. Not Kurthak, though. Since he took over, it’s become pretty clear he’s more interested in out-and-out expansion and conquest. Instead of war bands, he sent in the whole army.”
“Nettles and thorns,” Kronn swore. “None of the villages could stand against that.”
“They didn’t,” Giffel said grimly.
“We lost battle after battle, more and more ground, Kronn,” Paxina said. “Their ultimate target is Kendermore.” She ran a hand over her face, looking tired.
She fell silent, bowing her head. Kronn blew a long, slow sigh out through his lips. For a moment, no one spoke.
“I’m sorry Your Honor,” Riverwind murmured. “You said two things happened a month ago. What was the other?”
Paxina looked up. Riverwind couldn’t help but shudder at her expression. There was a hopelessness there that he’d never seen before on a kender’s face.
“Malys,” the Lord Mayor said. “She’s the other thing. She and Kurthak must have joined forces. After the ogres were through with a town, she’d fly in and burn it, to make sure nothing survived. We had to make firebreaks to keep the whole Kenderwood from going up.”
“We saw that,” Brightdawn said solemnly. She looked down at Billee Juniper, who was asleep in her arms. Tears shone in the Plainswoman’s eyes. “We passed through a town on the way here.”
“Weavewillow,” Kronn added, in reply to Paxina’s inquisitive look. “The whole place was blasted.”
“That was one of the last to go,” Giffel stated.
“Actually, Weavewillow wasn’t quite as bad as some of the others,” Paxina said. “By the time the ogres attacked there, most of our people were already gone. You see, a couple of weeks ago I sent messengers to every village that was still standing, telling them to evacuate and come here. Just about everyone did, although there were stragglers who didn’t make it out.”
“Only two days ago,” Giffel continued, “the ogres started showing up outside Kendermore. They’ve been arriving steadily ever since. You’re lucky you got here when you did-by this time tomorrow, their numbers will have doubled. You’d never have escaped if you’d tried to ride for the gates then.”
“So we’re just in time,” Kronn said cheerfully. “Wouldn’t want to miss this battle.”
Paxina nodded grimly. “There’s nowhere left to run.”
“A last stand,” Riverwind said.
“Yes.”
“They won’t take us easily,” Giffel declared. “Kendermore isn’t like the other villages. Our walls are strong, and we’ve got eighty thousand kender to defend them, if need be.”
“Who’s leading the defense?” Kronn asked.
“Well, right now it’s Brimble Redfeather,” Paxina answered, “but I was hoping you’d come back in time.”
“There will be a siege,” Riverwind said. “If this Black-Gazer’s as smart as you say, he won’t attack right away. He’ll set up his army outside your walls, and he’ll wait, and try to starve and worry you out. I assume you don’t have any supply lines?”
Paxina shook her head. “Even if we did, where would we get supplies from? Flotsam? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Riverwind, but most humans would be quite happy if our people disappeared from Krynn tomorrow. As of right now, we have enough foodstuffs for a few months, maybe longer. After that, to be frank, I expect we’ll starve.”
It was dark out when they finished their supper. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, Giffel pushed back his chair and rose. “I’m afraid I have to go,” he said, bowing to Paxina, and left.
“You’ll pardon me, too,” Arlie said. He stood and began to collect crumb-dusted plates from the table. “I’ve still got lots of work to do. You can go look in on Catt if you like, but don’t wake her. For now, sleep’s the best thing for her.”
The Plainsfolk and kender sat in silence for a time, sipping their drinks.
“They’re going to need a place to stay,” Kronn told Paxina. “Preferably somewhere Riverwind doesn’t have to worry about honking his head on the ceiling all the time. She eyed the old Plainsman carefully. “I think there’s a house down on Cherrystone Boulevard that might do. Used to belong to a kender wizard, a few years back. He had a tall hat.” She winked. “Kronn and I will take the three of you there tonight, after we’re done here. Now,” she added, nodding at the little kender girl in Brightdawn’s arms, “as for our other visitor.
“Billee can stay with me, if you like,” Brightdawn offered. “Until we find her family, that is.”
“Brightdawn,” Kronn said, “I’m pretty sure we aren’t going to find her family.” He peered at the child, making sure she was asleep before he went on. “Her mother and father are probably dead-I think we can be sure of that.”
“There are orphanages,” Paxina said. “Billee’s not the only child to lose her parents to Malys and the ogres. And some parents have lost their children, too-I’m sure we can find a foster family for her.”
Brightdawn looked at the kender gravely. “If it’s all the same to you,” she said, “I’d rather keep her.”
Paxina and her brother exchanged troubled looks, but Riverwind spoke before they could say anything. “Maybe the two of you should go see your sister now,” he told them.
Kronn rose from his seat, understanding. He gulped down the last of his cider, then casually tucked the goblet in one of his pouches.
“Come on, Pax,” he said. “Catt was asking for you earlier, before she dozed off.” The two kender left the room arm-in-arm. Kronn pushed the door shut behind him.
When it clicked closed, Riverwind turned to his daughter. She returned his gaze, a challenge in her eyes, but the old Plainsman did not relent. He leaned forward, his face grave. “You know you can’t keep her,” he said.
“Why not?” she asked. She raised her chin haughtily. “I’m the one who rescued her. If I hadn’t heard her crying, you would have ridden on by… and then who would have taken care of her? The ogres?”
“I’ve seen how attached you’ve grown to her, child. But Billee’s no human girl. She’s a kender.”
Brightdawn opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again. She turned to Swiftraven. “I don’t see you helping me.”
The young warrior shifted uneasily. “I’m sorry Brightdawn,” he said. “I agree with your father. I don’t think you can handle a kender child. I know I couldn’t.”
Brightdawn’s lips tightened bitterly. “You’re both so sure you know what I’m capable of.”
“Not just us.” Riverwind’s voice was gentle. “Paxina thinks the same way. I could see it in her eyes when you asked to take care of Billee. She belongs with her people. Paxina was just too polite to say anything at the time.”
For a moment, Brightdawn met her father’s steady gaze. Then her shoulders slumped, and she bowed her head. “You’re right. I’m just being selfish.”
“Not just, Brightdawn.” Riverwind said, shaking his head. “I want you to leave. Go back to Que-Shu.”
“We’ve already discussed this. I can’t leave these people here, any more than you can, Father.” Before he could respond, she stood, propping little Billee on her shoulder, and walked to the door. “I’m tired now. It’s been a very long day. I’m going to ask Paxina to show us to that house she was telling us about.”
With that, she strode from the room. Swiftraven glanced apologetically at Riverwind, then rose and followed her out.
When they were gone and Riverwind was alone, he let out a groan of pain, his hand pressing against his belly. Tears spilled down his old, weathered face.