His white robes rustled around his ankles as he approached them. "Well, brothers," he began, forcing himself to smile as his brothers turned to face him, "I'm always standing on the porch of the Inn, waving good-bye to you two, going off to fight something or other. Looks like it's my turn now."
Palin saw Tanin and Sturm exchange swift, alarmed glances and he choked. The three were close, they knew each other inside out. How can I fool them? he thought bitterly. Seeing their faces, he knew he hadn't.
"My brothers," Palin said softly, reaching out his hands. Clasping hold of both of them, he drew them near. "Don't say anything," he whispered. "Just let me go! Father wouldn't understand. It's going to be hard enough for him as it is."
"I'm not sure I understand," Tanin began severely.
"Oh, shut up!" Sturm muttered. "So we don't understand. Does it matter? Did our little brother blubber when you went off to your first battle?" Putting his big arms around Palin, he hugged him tightly. "Good-bye, kid," he said. 'Take care of yourself and… and
.. don't be gone… long…" Shaking his head, Sturm turned and
walked hurriedly away, wiping his eye and muttering something about "those damn spell components make me sneeze!"
But Tanin, the oldest, remained standing beside his brother, staring at him sternly. Palin looked up at him pleadingly, but Tanin's face grew grim. "No, little brother," he said. "You're going to listen."
Dalamar, watching the two closely, saw the young warrior put his hand on Palin's shoulder. He could guess what was being said. The dark elf saw Palin drawn away, shaking his head stubbornly, the young man's features hardening into an impassive mask that Dalamar knew well. The wizard's hand went to the wounds in his chest. How like Raistlin the young man was! Like, yet different, as Caramon said. Different as the white moon and the black… The dark elf's thoughts were interrupted when he noticed that Caramon had observed the conversation between his two sons, and was taking a step toward them. Quickly, Dalamar interceded. Walking over to Caramon, he placed his slender hand on the big man's arm.
"You have not told your children the truth about their uncle," Dalamar said as Caramon glanced at him.
"I've told them," Caramon retorted, his face flushing, "as much as I thought they should know. I tried to make them see both sides of him…"
"You have done them a disservice, particularly one of them," Dalamar replied coldly, his glance going to Palin.
"What could I do?" Caramon asked angrily. "When the legends started about him-sacrificing himself for the sake of the world, daring to go into the Abyss to rescue Lady Crysania from the clutches of the Dark Queen-what could I say? I told them how it was, I told them the true story. I told them that he lied to Crysania. That he seduced her in spirit, if not in body, and led her into the Abyss. And I told them that, at the end, when she was of no more use to him, he abandoned her to let her die alone. I told them. My friend Tanis has told them. But they believe what they want to believe… We all do, I guess," Caramon added with an accusing glance at Dalamar. "I notice you mages don't go out of your way to refute those stories!"
"They've done us good," Dalamar said, shrugging his slender shoulders. "Because of the legends about Raistlin and his 'sacrifice,' magic is no longer feared, we wizards no longer reviled. Our schools are flour ishing, our services are in demand. The city of Kala-man has actually invited us to build a new Tower of High Sorcery there." The dark elf smiled bitterly. "Ironic, isn't it?"
"What?"
"By his failure, your brother succeeded in what he set out to accomplish," Dalamar remarked, his smile twisting. "In a way, he HAS become a god…"
"Palin, I insist on knowing what's going on." Tanin laid his hand on Palin's shoulder.
"You heard them, Tanin," Palin hedged, nodding toward Dalamar, who was talking with his father. "We're going to travel to the Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas, where the Portal is located, and… and look in… That's all."
"And I'm a gully dwarf!" growled Tanin.
"Sometimes you think like one," Palin snapped, losing his patience and thrusting his brother's arm away.
Tanin's face flushed a dull red. Unlike the easygoing Sturm, Tanin had inherited his mother's temper along with her curls. He also took his role of Elder Brother seriously, too seriously sometimes to Palin's mind. But it's only because he loves me, the young man reminded himself.
Drawing a deep breath, he sighed and, reaching out, clasped his brother by the shoulders. "Tanin, you listen to me for a change. Sturm's right. I didn't 'blubber' when you went off to battle that first time. At least not when you could see me. But I cried all night, alone, in the darkness. Don't you think I know that each time you leave may be the last time we ever see each other? How many times have you been wounded? That last fight, that minotaur arrow missed your heart by only two fingersbreadth."
Tanin, his face dark, stared down at his feet. "That's different," he muttered.
"As Granpa Tas would say, 'A chicken with its neck wrung is different from a chicken with its head cut off, but does it matter to the chicken?' " Palin smiled.
Swallowing his tears, Tanin shrugged and tried to grin. "I guess you're right." He put his hands on Palin's shoulders, looked intently into his pale face. "Come home, kid! Give this up!" he whispered fiercely. "It isn't worth it! If anything happened to you, think what it would do to Mother… and Father…"
"I know," Palin said, his own eyes filling despite all his best efforts to prevent it. "I have thought of that! I must do this, Tanin. Try to understand. Tell Mother I… I love her very much. And the little girls. Tell them I'll… I'll bring them a present, like you and Sturm always do…"
"What? A dead lizard?" Tanin growled. "Some moldy old bat's wing?"
Wiping his eyes, Palin smiled. "Yeah, tell 'em that. You better go. Dad's watching us."
"Watch yourself, little brother. And him." Tanin glanced at his father. "This will be pretty tough on him."
"I know." Palin sighed. "Believe me, I know."
Tanin hesitated. Palin saw one more lecture, one more attempt to dissuade him in his brother's eyes.
"Please, Tanin," he said softly. "No more."
Blinking rapidly and rubbing his nose, Tanin nodded. Cuffing his little brother on the cheek and ruffling the auburn hair, Tanin walked across the shadowy chamber to stand near the entryway with Sturm.
Palin watched him walk away, then, turning, he went the opposite direction, toward the front of the great hall, to bid his parting respects to the two wizards.
"So Dalamar has spoken to you," Justarius said as the young man came to stand before him.
"Yes," said Palin grimly. "HE has told me the truth."
"Has he?" Dunbar asked suddenly. "Remember this, young one. Dalamar wears the Black Robes. He is ambitious. Whatever he does, he does because he believes it will ultimately benefit him."
"Can you two deny what he told me is true? That you are using me as bait to trap my uncle's spirit if it still lives?"
Justarius glanced at Dunbar, who shook his head.
"Sometimes you have to look for the truth here, Palin," Dunbar said in answer, reaching out his hand to touch Palin gently on the chest, "in your heart."
His lip curled in derision, but Palin knew what respect he must show two such high-ranking wizards. So he simply bowed. "Dalamar and my father are waiting for me. I bid you both farewell. The gods willing, I will return in a year or two for my Test, and I hope I will have the honor of seeing you both again."
Justarius did not miss the sarcasm, nor the bitter, angry expression on the young man's face. It made him recall another bitter, angry young man, who had come to this Tower over thirty years ago…