Caramon came out of the bedroom. He was draped in chain mail, which fit well over his shoulders, but didn’t quite do its job covering his middle. The big man wore an aggrieved expression.
“You know, Tika,” he said, solemnly, staring down at the clanking mail with a frown. “I don’t remember this stuff being this heavy."
Chapter Five
Tanis Half-Elven has an Unpleasant Surprise
Caramon did finally recall how to reach Tanis’s castle, located in Solanthus, but he knew the directions only by traveling overland, not by dragon back.
Sara, however, was familiar with the entire continent of Ansalon—a familiarity Caramon found disquieting.
“Ariakan has excellent maps,” she said, in some confusion.
Caramon wondered just why the Knights of Takhisis had excellent maps of the continent. Unfortunately, the reason wasn’t difficult to guess.
The journey took hardly any time at all. Far too little time, for Caramon, who sat hunched on the back of the dragon saddle, cold and hungry (he’d long since eaten the meat), all the sleep startled out of him. He was trying to think of how he was going to explain this strange tale to his friend Tanis. And what if Tanis is the father? Caramon mulled the matter over. Am I doing him a favor by springing a son on him? What will Laurana say? She never had any use for Kit, that’s for damn sure. And what about Tanis’s own son? How will this make him feel?
The more he thought about it, the sorrier Caramon was he’d decided to come. At length, he ordered Sara to turn back, to return him to his inn, but she either couldn’t hear him—for the rush of the wind in their ears—or was pointedly ignoring him. He might jump out of the saddle, but—from this height—that was out of the question.
It did occur to Caramon that he was armed and that he might overpower Sara. But, after giving this some serious thought, he realized that even if he did manage to overpower Sara, he would never be able to control her blue dragon, which was giving him suspicious looks as it was. And by the time Caramon had reached this conclusion, they had landed on a hilltop overlooking Tanis’s castle.
Caramon dismounted from the dragon. It was not yet dawn, but sunrise wasn’t far off. Sara calmed the dragon, left it orders to stay put—or so Caramon assumed, since he couldn’t understand what she was saying—then she began walking toward the palatial dwelling. Realizing Caramon wasn’t following, she turned to him.
“What’s wrong?” she asked anxiously.
“I’m not sure,” Caramon said, considering.
Sara looked frightened, as if she might start to cry again.
Caramon sighed. “Yes,” he said gloomily. “I’m coming.”
“Caramon Majere! Of all the lame-brained—Excuse us a moment, will you, mistress?” Tanis said politely to Sara.
Grabbing hold of Caramon’s arm, the half-elf dragged the big man to the far side of the large, firelit room.
“This could be a trap,” Tanis whispered. “Did you ever consider that?”
“Yes,” Caramon said.
“And?” Tanis demanded.
“I don’t think it is,” Caramon responded, after a moment’s thought.
Tanis sighed. “You obviously haven’t—”
“I mean,” Caramon continued, “why would these dark paladins set a trap for me, a middle-aged innkeeper? That doesn’t make much sense, does it?”
“No, but—” Tanis looked embarrassed. “Maybe the trap wasn’t meant for you...”
“I know,” Caramon said, nodding wisely. “You’re far more important. But it was Tika who suggested I talk to you, not Sara. And,” he added gravely, after another moment’s profound thought, “I don’t believe Tika’s setting a trap for you, Tanis.”
“Well, of course, she isn’t,” Tanis snapped. “It’s just... All right, so maybe if s not a trap. Maybe I... I don’t want...” He shook his head and started over.
“I remember that terrible day Kitiara died. She had tried to kill Dalamar, remember? He stopped her....”
Tanis paused and swallowed. “She died in my arms. And then the death knight came to claim her. I could hear her voice, pleading with me to save her from that dread fate. 'Even now, in death, she’s reaching out to you ...' Dalamar told me then. She’s still doing it, Caramon.”
“No, she’s not, Tanis. This is her son ...”
“If you believe that woman, Sara.”
Caramon was troubled. “Don’t you?”
“I don’t know what to believe. But, you’re right. We have to find out the truth, and do what we can to help this young man, no matter whose son he is. Besides, it will give me a chance to see what Ariakan is up to. We’ve heard reports of these dark paladins before now, but we had no way of knowing if they were true or merely rumors. It appears”—he glanced grimly at Sara, a chilling figure in her blue helm and black-trimmed cloak—“that they are true.
“But now,” Tanis added with a wry smile and a shake of his head, “I have to face the truly difficult task. I have to go tell this to my wife.”
Tanis spent an hour alone with Laurana. Caramon, pacing the entry hall of the half-elf’s mansion, could well imagine the nature of the conversation.
Tanis’s elven wife, Laurana, knew all about the relationship between Kitiara and her husband. Laurana had been understanding, especially since the affair was over and finished long ago. But what about now—when there was the possibility of a child? A very good possibility, as far as Caramon was concerned. He simply could not bring himself to believe the father was really Sturm.
“Yet, why would Kit lie?” he asked himself.
The answer was beyond Caramon. But then he’d never been able to explain why his older half-sister had done half the things she’d done.
Tanis came out of the room, his arm around his wife. Laurana was smiling, and Caramon breathed easier. She even paused to say a few whispered words to Sara, who sat, slumped, weary and exhausted, in a corner near the fireplace. Caramon noted then how young Laurana looked, in comparison to her husband—the tragedy of elven-human relationships. Though Tanis had elven blood in his veins, the human blood was growing gray, as the saying went. When the two had wed, over twenty years ago, they had looked to be of equal age. Now they could have been father and daughter.
“But they knew this when they married,” Caramon said to himself. “They’re making the most out of the time they have together. And that’s what counts.”
Tanis was ready to travel almost immediately. As official ambassador and liaison between the Solamnic Knights and the elven nations, he spent much of his time on the road, as did his wife. He had donned a suit of leather armor—favored by elves—and a green cloak. Seeing him thus, Caramon was reminded poignantly of their old adventuring days.
Perhaps Laurana was thinking the same, for she ruffled the beard that only a half-human elf could grow, and made some teasing comment in Elvish that caused Tanis to smile. He bid his wife farewell. She kissed him gently, and he held her fondly. Then he bid farewell to his son—a frail and weak youth, doted on by both parents, who watched him with anxious, loving eyes. The young man was elven through and through, with no trace of his father visible. His complexion was the sickly white of one who rarely steps outside. Not surprising that Tanis and Laurana keep him locked in a cage like a baby bird, Caramon thought, considering the number of times they’ve nearly lost him. If he was all elf, he’d be content to spend his time with his nose in a book. But he’s human, too. Look at those eyes, Tanis. Look at him when he watches you ride off to adventure, to see wondrous sights he’s only read about.
“Someday, Tanis,” Caramon said softly, “you’re going to come home and find the cage empty.”