The three were soon deeply involved in discussion. Even Tanin warmed to the subject, and was soon describing in vivid detail the ambush that had stopped the minotaurs from leveling the city of Kalaman. Dunbar listened attentively, asking intelligent questions, making comments, and appearing to enjoy himself very much.
But though the wizard's shrewd gaze was concentrated on the warrior brothers, his attention was in truth on the younger.
Seeing the three deep in conversation and himself apparently forgotten, Palin thankfully gave up all pretence of eating and went back to staring into the fire, never noticing Dunbar watching him.
The young man's face was pale and thoughtful, the slender hands twisted together in his lap. So lost in his thoughts was he that his lips moved and, though he did not speak aloud, one other person in the room heard the words.
"Why have they brought me here? Can they read the secrets of my heart? Will they tell my father?"
And, finally, "How can I hurt him, who has suffered so much already?"
Nodding to himself as if he had found the answer to some unasked question, Dunbar sighed and turned his complete attention back to fighting minotaurs.
CHAPTER THREE
"You're wrong," said Caramon calmly. "My brother is dead"
Raising his eyebrows, Justarius glanced at Dalamar, who just shrugged. Of all the reactions they had been prepared for, this calm refutal by the warrior-turned-innkeeper had not been one of them, apparently. His expression grave, seeming uncertain what to say, Justarius looked back at Caramon.
"You talk as though you have proof."
"I have," said Caramon.
"May I ask what?" Dalamar inquired sarcastically. "The Portal to the Abyss closed, after all-closed WITH YOUR BROTHER'S HELP-leaving him trapped on the other side." The dark elf's voice dropped. "Her Dark Majesty would not kill him. Raistlin prevented her entry into this world. Her rage would know no bounds. She would take delight in tormenting him eternally. Death would have been Raistlin's salvation-"
"And so it was," said Caramon softly.
"Sentimental drivel-" Dalamar began impatiently, but Justarius once again laid his hand upon the dark elf's arm, and the black-robed mage lapsed into seething silence.
"I hear certainty in your voice, Caramon," Justarius said earnestly. "You have knowledge, obviously, that we do not‹ Share this with us. I know this is painful for you, but we face a decision of grave importance and this may influence our actions."
Caramon hesitated, frowning. "Does this have something to do with my son?"
"Yes," Justarius replied.
Caramon's face darkened. His gaze went to his sword, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, his hand absently fingering the hilt. 'Then I will tell you," he said, speaking reluctantly, yet in a firm, low voice, "what I have never told anyone-not my wife, not Tanis, not anyone." He was silent a moment more, collecting his thoughts. Then, swallowing and brushing his hand across his eyes, keeping his gaze on the sword, he began.
"I was numb after… after what happened in the Tower in Palanthas. After Raistlin… died. I couldn't think. I didn't want to think. It was easier to go through the day like a sleepwalker. I moved, I talked, but I didn't feel. It was easy." He shrugged. "There was a lot to do to keep me occupied. The city was in ruins. Dalamar"-he glanced briefly at the dark elf-"was nearly dead.Revered Daughter Crysania hurt badly. Then there was Tas stealing that floating citadel." Caramon smiled, remembering the antics of the merry kender. But the smile soon faded. Shaking his head, he continued.
"I knew that someday I'd have to think about Raistlin. I'd have to sort it out in my mind." Raising his head, Caramon looked at Justarius directly. "I had to make myself understand what Raistlin was, what he had done. I came to face the fact that he was evil, truly evil. That he had jeopardized the entire world in his lust for power, that innocent people had suffered and died because of him."
"And for this, of course, he was granted salvation!" Dalamar sneered.
"Wait!" Caramon raised his hand, flushing. "I came to realize something else. I loved Raistlin. He was my brother, my twin. We were close, no one knows how close." The big man could not go on, but stared down at his sword, frowning, until, drawing a shaking breath, he lifted his head again, proudly. "Raistlin did some good in his life. Without him, we couldn't have defeated the dragonarmies. He cared for those who… who were wretched, sick…like himself. But even that, I know, wouldn't have saved him at the end." Caramon's lips pressed together firmly as he blinked back his tears. "When I met him in the Abyss, he was near to victory, as you well know. He had only to reenter the Portal, draw the Dark Queen through it, and then he would be able to defeat her and take her place. He would achieve his dream of becoming a god. But in so doing, he would destroy the world. My journey into the future showed that to me-and I showed the future to him. Raistlin would become a god-but he would rule over a dead world. He knew then that he couldn't return. He had doomed himself. He knew the risks he faced, however, when he entered the Abyss."
"Yes," said Justarius quietly. "And, in his ambition, he chose freely to take those risks. What is it you are trying to say?"
"Just this," Caramon returned. "Raistlin made a mistake-a terrible, tragic mistake. And he did what few of us can do-he had courage enough to admit it and try to do what he could to rectify it, even though it meant sacrificing himself."
"You have grown in wisdom over the years, Caramon Majere. What you say is convincing." Justarius regarded Caramon with new respect, even as the arch-mage shook his head sadly. "Still, this is a question for philosophers to argue. It is not proof. Forgive me for pressing you, Caramon, but-"
"I spent a month at Tanis's, before I went home," Caramon continued as if he hadn't heard the interruption. "It was in his quiet, peaceful home that I thought about all this. It was there that I first had to come to grips with the fact that my brother-my companion since birth, the person that I loved better than anyone else on this world-was gone. Lost. For all I knew, trapped in horrible torment. I… I thought, more than once, about taking the edge off my pain with dwarf spirits again. But I knew that was only a temporary situation." Caramon closed his eyes, shuddering.
"One day, when I didn't think I could live anymore without going mad, I went into my room and locked the door. Taking out my sword, I looked at it, thinking how easy it would be to… to escape. I lay down on my bed, fully intending to kill myself. Instead, I fell into an exhausted sleep. I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, it was night. Everything was quiet, Solinari's silver light shone in the window, and I was filled with a sense of inexpressible peace. I wondered why… and then I saw him."
"Saw who?" Justarius asked, exchanging quick glances with Dalamar. "Raistlin?"
"Yes."
The faces of the two wizards grew grim.
"I saw him," said Caramon gently, "lying beside me, asleep, just like when… when we were young. He had terrible dreams sometimes. He'd wake, weeping, from them. I'd comfort him and… and make him laugh. Then he'd sigh, lay his head on my arm, and fall asleep. That's how I saw him-"
"A dream!" Dalamar scoffed.
"No." Caramon shook his head resolutely. "It was too real. I saw his face as I see yours. I saw his face as I had seen it last, in the Abyss. Only now the terrible lines of pain, the twisted marks of greed and evil were gone, leaving it smooth and… at rest-like Crysania said. It was the face of my brother, my twin… not the stranger he'd become." Caramon wiped his eyes again, running his hand down over his mouth. "The next day, I was able to go home," he said huskily, "knowing that everything was all right… For the first time in my life, I believed in Paladine. I knew that he understood Raistlin and judged him mercifully, accepting his sacrifice."