"You can't go in there," Tanis said sternly.
"Who are you to stop me?" The speaker displayed a belligerence more typical of humans than elves, Tanis thought.
"Someone who cares for Yeblidod," he said simply. "She's sleeping now and should not be disturbed."
"I don't know you," the villager shot back. "For all I know, you attacked the poor woman and-"
Before he could finish the thought, Tanis leaped at the elf with a savage cry. He went straight for the elf's throat with his bare hands. In a mad scramble to try to stop him, it took six elves to pull Tanis away from his nearly strangled victim.
The elves had thrown Tanis to the ground and were preparing to beat him into senselessness when Scowarr shouted, "Stop! He's my friend!"
Reluctantly, the elves did as their hero commanded. Tanis stared at Scowarr as the half-elf rose to a sitting position on the hard ground.
The funny man gave him a crooked smile in return. "What can I say7 They like me."
Tanis smiled in return. He was glad they did.
"You know," said Scowarr, "the one thing you can get without a lot of trouble is a lot of trouble."
Many of the elves laughed at his cleverness. Tanis merely nodded. For his part, Scowarr shook his head with resignation. He leaned down close to Tanis and complained, "You are the most difficult audience I've ever had." "What about all those arrows?" Tanis reminded him. "Second most difficult audience," the funny man amended. While they were still close, Tanis took his chance. In a low but insistent voice, the half-elf whispered, "Get them away from here." Scowarr looked at his friend with a questioning glance. He didn't know who or what Tanis was really hiding in that shack, but there was no question in the funny man's mind that something strange was going on. He was very curious about the game the half-elf was playing. Scowarr pursed his lips as he stepped away from Tanis and considered his options. He wondered if the villagers would heap still more glory on his little shoulders if he discovered whatever Tanis didn't want found. He also wondered what Tanis would do to him if he betrayed the half-elf's trust. The lure of glory was strong, but Scowarr didn't want to be a dead hero. Besides, he had done rather well for himself by following Tanis's lead. He decided to do it again and hope for the best. "Come, fellow soldiers," Scowarr announced. "We're wasting our time here. The dawn will break soon, and let us not break with it. We must be ready to fight the humans with or without Kishpa. Are we not brave?" "We are bravel" the mob cried out, stoking their own courage. "Are we not strong7" His voice rose several notes. "We are strong!" "Are we not ready7" Scowarr raised a fist on the last word. "We are ready!" 'Then let us prepare to fight." He paused, then, 'To the barricades!" 'To the barricades!"
A great cheer went up, and the mob quickly scrambled down the rocky path toward the beach. Scowarr marveled at the effect he'd had on these elves. He almost- but not quite-hoped that he would die this day so that he would never have to face his ordinary life again when the praise and honor stopped. He lingered behind as his followers hurried away.
"You did well," said Tanis gratefully when they were alone. "You have my thanks."
Little Shoulders bowed his head in acknowledgment. "It was my pleasure to help you. But there's just one thing."
"Yes?"
"You must tell me what's going on," Scowarr pleaded. "Why wouldn't you let anyone in the shack?"
Tanis was about to tell him when a figure crossed in front of the doorway behind them, blocking the light. Scowarr squinted to see who stood there as Tanis turned to look, too.
"I'm glad I saved your lives," Kishpa said weakly from the doorway, the light streaming out into the night from behind him. "I seem to have made the right choice."
16
A beautiful woman appeared next to Kishpa, the light throwing mysterious shadows across her magnificent face, partially hidden by her cloud of black curls. She held one of the mage's arms to keep him from teetering on his unsteady legs. Scowarr was delighted to have found Kishpa, but he was overwhelmed by Brandella. "Who is she?" he whispered to Tanis. "A woman who will not be forgotten," the half-elf replied. "Huh?" "Never mind." Then, aloud to the mage, Tanis said, "I assured Reehsha and Brandella that you would recover."
The wizard narrowed his eyes. "So they said. Did you know, or were you merely guessing?"
"Does it matter, as long as I was right?"
"Perhaps it does," Kishpa said thoughtfully. "But there is no time now to ponder the question. Come in, both of you, and tell me what is going on in Ankatavaka. I must know everything."
Tanis and Scowarr started for the door, but a shouted warning from the direction of the village caught their attention. They all turned to see what the trouble was. The mob that had followed Scowarr had apparently flushed one of the human soldiers out of hiding and was pursuing him. Kishpa, like the half-elf, could make out that much with elvensight, although they both doubted that Scowarr and Brandella could catch much detail. Tanis saw that the soldier was big, his long legs giving him a loping stride.
Tanis tried to focus on the man's face. The distance and the darkness, however, proved to be too great. Yet the human was the right size, and he had been spotted near the beach. It might be him, Tanis thought. It might be my father. Without another thought, the half-elf bolted in the direction of the human.
Brandella would have to wait. Old Kishpa would have to wait. Everything would have to wait until Tanis kept the promise that he had made to Yeblidod-and to himself.
"Where are you going?" shouted Scowarr.
Tanis didn't answer.
The others at Reehsha's shack shrugged and headed into the cabin. All, that is, except Brandella, who lingered in the night air watching Tanis recede into the darkness.
While Reehsha went to tend his boat and Scowarr slept huddled on the floor, Mertwig paced, trying to decide how to ask Kishpa for help. He wanted to give his wife a beautiful, delicate glass ball that the famous Pikla- ker had created. Unfortunately, the price was far beyond his means. But if Kishpa would merely vouch for him, the artist would be honor-bound to let him buy it.
Mertwig was a proud dwarf. Asking favors did not come easily. Finally, though, he managed to ask, "How long have you known me, Kishpa?"
Kishpa, resting on the wooden bench by the door, his red robes pulled around him against the cabin's chill, raised an eyebrow. "My whole life," conceded the mage. "You know that. Why do you ask me such a question?"
Mertwig drew a breath, made a decision, and plunged on. "Because I need you to speak on my behalf."
'To whom7" the mage asked warily.
'To Piklaker." The dwarf tried to look resolved, but his weak chin failed him. It wobbled with his nervousness.
"I heard you were eyeing his wares," said the wizard dubiously. "You really shouldn't-"
"No lectures!" interrupted the dwarf with sudden temper. "I simply want you to tell the artist that I'm good for the price of a certain glass trinket." He spun away from the mage, crossing his short arms before his chest. 'There, I said it."
'That 'trinket,' " the mage said sarcastically, "is worth more than what you earn in a year."
Mertwig turned back. "So what? It has value. I can always sell it later if I can't pay for it. Besides, I'm not asking you to buy it for me, I'm just asking you to tell Piklaker that you vouch for me." His voice took on a pleading tone. "If you do that, old friend, he'll let me have it." Mertwig saw Kishpa glance at Brandella, looking for her guidance. She nodded. Mertwig knew that Brandella didn't consider it her business, or Kishpa's, to decide what was right or wrong. The mage's duty, the weaver would feel, wasn't to judge his friends but to give them what he could and let them make their own choices; if Mertwig wanted to put himself into debt for his wife, then that was his decision. As long as he wasn't asking Kishpa to foot the bill, she would see no harm in what Mertwig was suggesting, the dwarf knew. But Kishpa would likely have a different view, Mertwig worried. He wished he'd never embarked on this conversation.