“Did you say Gilthanas?” asked Palin, blinking and looking around, as disoriented as if he’d just woken up. He turned to face the elf and almost lost his balance. “My father told me stories of the legendary Gilthanas. Where have you been? Your sister has long sought your return. We’ve got to get out of here before the dragon comes back.”
The mariner nodded. “We’ve got a lot of sand to cover.” Palin nodded and grew dizzy. Rig rushed forward and almost effortlessly picked up Palin. “Feril, do you think you can talk those elephants into accepting a few passengers?”
“I hope the dragon doesn’t figure out who is responsible for all that carnage” Palin heard Gilthanas say. “Dragons are a vengeful lot.”
“Skie will know,” Palin whispered. The sorcerer pictured the dead Sivaks who now bore the face and form of their slayer. Then Palin gave into the pain and fatigue and slipped into peaceful unconsciousness.
Chapter 8
“Are we gonna feed ‘em?” Blister anxiously looked up at Rig, leaned against the rear mast, and yawned. She was not used to getting up at dawn, and she dabbed at the sleep in her eyes with the padded fingertips of her gloves.
No one had made her get up, especially after she had stayed awake half the night helping the freed prisoners on board— refugees, Rig was calling them. It was just too hard to sleep with all of these people milling about. There were too many chances that she might miss something, might miss out on some especially interesting conversation. “They’re all so hungry. I can hear their stomachs growling from here. Wake up, Rig Mer-Krel! I’m down here! How are we ever gonna feed ‘em?”
The mariner glanced down at her, and shrugged his broad shoulders. The kender made a soft huffing sound, crossed her arms petulantly, and returned to ogling the many people gathered on the forward section of Flint’s Anvil.
Some were sleeping near the mainmast, others were too giddy with freedom to do anything other than stand at the railing, take in their watery surroundings, and chatter about the future. There were nearly as many below deck—the more malnourished and injured of the lot. Jasper had been tending to them. The ship was seriously overcrowded.
Blister had counted them seven times. It took her that many attempts to get the same number twice—one hundred and eighteen. Nearly all of them were human. Gilthanas was one of six elves.
“Where are we gonna get enough food?” the kender persisted.
“And you wanted to bring one of the elephants on board? Then you really would have had something to worry about” The mariner studied her. It was clear she wasn’t going to drop the subject. “A couple of the men are in the galley fixing breakfast. Can’t you smell it?” Rig took a deep breath, held it, and smiled at the scent of eggs and spiced pork lingering in the sea air. He was hungry too.
“What about after that?” the kender said, sniffing the air.
“We took on supplies before we left Palanthas—dried meat, plenty of grain for bread, and bins full of potatoes and carrots,”
“All of which will last three days—if we’re lucky. I already figured it out. The water should last six or seven—maybe.” The kender pursed her small lips. “Saving all these people was wonderful, and I’m glad I got to help. But what are we gonna do with all of ‘em?”
Rig shrugged again. The mariner knew the escaped prisoners couldn’t be dropped off in Palanthas, the closest sizeable city. The Knights of Takhisis controlled the place— Khellendros’s knights. Hiding them in the cargo hold while they took on more supplies in the city wouldn’t work—the knights were inspecting practically every ship that pulled into the Palanthas docks.
“Gander, maybe ,” he said after a long silence. It was three and a half weeks away, perhaps a couple of days less if the winds were favorable. The kender was right, they’d have to take on food and water at some point, but any place before Gander was too close to the dragon as far as Rig was concerned. “Witdel, Portsmith, maybe Gwyntarr farther to the south,” he added. “Maybe we’ll drop a couple dozen off in each place to avoid too much attention. Those cities are all in Coastlund, and Skie doesn’t make too much trouble there.”
“So there wouldn’t be as many knights around?”
“Right. Should be safer.”
Blister shook her head. “I don’t think any place is really safe anymore, but I definitely vote for Gwyntarr. It’s the farthest from here. Besides, I’ve never been there, and I’d like to see it. Wonder how it got its name?”
The kender was determined to see as much of Krynn as possible during her lifetime. Itchy feet, she called k—the inability to stay in any one spot for too long. Her passion for traveling was the reason she had left Kendermore a few decades ago, and it had compelled her to join forces with Dhamon several long months ago. The prospect of travel made her continue to keep company with the mariner and Palin Majere. If she could fight a few dragons along the way, all the better.
“So what will they do?” she continued. “Provided that we can find enough food to keep ‘em all alive?”
“I don’t know. Start a new life in one of those towns. Stay out of trouble. Stay away from any Knights of Takhisis they might see.”
The kender scowled and shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. These people have no money, only the clothes on their backs—which aren’t even very nice clothes. Look at that fella—he’s got no shirt and his pants are ripped. And that one—the tunic has more holes than thread! How are they gonna start from nothing in a strange town? Who’d hire these beggars?”
Rig caught several of the former prisoners staring at him, smiling. It made him happy to think he had helped save them, had deadened some of the pain he was still experiencing over Shaon’s loss.
“They might have to steal to get some money or food. And if they get caught they could end up dead or in prison.” The kender was continuing to contemplate the freed prisoners’ fate in a soft enough voice that they couldn’t hear her, but loud enough that Rig couldn’t ignore her. “And if they end up in prison, maybe more Knights of Takhisis will come along and kidnap them. Or maybe they’ll starve. Maybe…”
The mariner looked down at the concerned kender and gave a hard tug on her braid. “Give it a rest, Blister,” he said. “We’ll give them a stake, some coins, help them start a new life.”
“How? Palin isn’t that rich. He’s already paid for the repairs on the ship, bought us supplies. Paid for—”
“I’ll take care of it.”
” You’ll take care of it?”
“Don’t ask,” he replied firmly. “I don’t want to talk about it.” He headed toward the wheel to relieve Groller. The money from the dragon’s jewelry was going to be earmarked for supplies for the ship, and it would have lasted a good long while. There were pearls, rubies, emeralds—enough to buy a bigger ship and supplies for it if he wanted. Now Rig made the decision to divide most of it between the refugees, and he’d keep just enough to supply the Anvil for a couple of months.
Groller joined Jasper below decks. The dwarf was in the cargo hold, checking this bandage, feeling that bump, offering a reassuring word, and in general doing his best to make everyone feel better. Some of the refugees were helping the dwarf. The elf, Gilthanas, was passing around mugs of water. Several in the hold didn’t need much tending. They were simply keeping their friends company or fighting off minor cases of seasickness.
Fury was busy sniffing everyone and lingering here and there to get his ears and belly scratched. The wolf eventually settled himself next to a young man who seemed to know just where to rub his neck.