“I agreed. And then I asked her if I could keep the child.” Sara stared at the fire, her face flushed. “I was so lonely, you see. And I’d always wanted a baby of my own. It seemed to me that the gods—if there were gods—had answered my prayers.
“Kitiara was pleased with the idea. She had come to trust me, and I think she even liked me a little—as much as she could ever like any other woman. She promised to send me money, whenever she had any. I said I didn’t care about that. I could support myself and a child. And I promised her I would write her letters, telling her about the boy. She kissed the child, when she left, and then put him into my arms.
“What will you name him?” I asked.
“ 'Call him Steel,” she said. And she laughed when she said it—a kind of joke, considering the baby’s surname.”
“That would be 'Half-Elven,' ” Caramon muttered aside to Tika. “I don’t see much joke in that, except on poor Tanis. All these years.” He gave a gloomy shake of his head. “Never knowing.”
“Hush!” Tika whispered. “You can’t say that for sure.”
“What?” Sara overheard. “What are you saying?”
“Sorry, but I don’t get the joke,” said Caramon. “About the baby’s name. 'Half-Elven,' you see.”
“Half-Elven?” Sara was perplexed.
Blushing, extremely embarrassed, Caramon coughed and said, “Look, we all knew about Tanis and Kit, so you don’t have to hide it anymore—”
“Ah, you think the baby’s father was Tanis Half-Elven,” said Sara, suddenly understanding. “No, you’re wrong.”
“Are you sure?” Caramon was puzzled. “Of course, there could have been someone else—”
“Any man in trousers,” Tika muttered beneath her breath.
“But you said this baby was born four years before the war. Kit and Tanis were lovers. And that must have been just after she left Solace with—"
Caramon’s breath caught in his throat. He stared at Sara. “That’s not possible!” he growled. “Kit was lying. I don’t believe it.”
“What do you mean?” Tika demanded. “I don’t understand! Who are you talking about?”
“Don’t you remember back then—”
“Caramon, I was a little girl when you and Raistlin and the others left Solace. And no one of you ever talked about what happened during those five years.”
“It’s true we never spoke of those journeys,” said Caramon slowly, formulating his thoughts. “We went in search of the true gods, that was our goal. But, looking back on it, I realize now that we really went in search of ourselves. How can a man or woman describe that journey? And so, we’ve kept silent, kept the stories in our hearts, and let the legend-spinners, who are only after a steel piece, make up whatever fool tales they choose.”
He gazed long and sternly at Sara, who stared down at the mug of tea, grown cold in her hands.
“I admit I have no proof. That is,” she amended, “I have proof, but nothing I can produce at this moment.”
She raised her head defiantly. “You believed me up until now.”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Caramon said heavily. He rose to his feet and walked over to stand by the fire.
“Would somebody tell me what’s going on? What’s the baby’s name?” Tika demanded, exasperated.
“Steel,” Sara answered. “Steel Brightblade."
Chapter three
White Rose, Black Lily
“May all the gods preserve us!” Tika gasped. “But that would mean ... What a strange lineage! Blessed Paladine!” She stood up, staring, horrified, at Caramon. “She killed him! Kitiara killed the father of her own child!”
“I don’t believe it,” Caramon said thickly. Hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers, he kicked moodily at a log that threatened to roll out of the grate, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. “Sturm Brightblade was a knight—in his soul, if not by the rules of the order. He would never—” Caramon paused, his face flushed. “Well, he wouldn’t.”
“He was also a man. A young man,” Sara said gently.
“You didn’t know him!” Caramon rounded on her angrily.
“But I came to, later. Will you hear the rest of my story?”
Tika laid her hand on her husband’s broad shoulder. “'Closing your ears won’t shut truth’s mouth,'” she said, repeating an elven proverb.
“No, but it silences gossip’s wagging tongue,” Caramon muttered. “Tell me this: Is that baby still alive?”
“Yes, your nephew lives,” Sara answered steadily, her expression sad and troubled. “He is twenty-four years old. It is on his behalf that I’ve come.”
Caramon heaved a great sigh that came from the ache in his heart. “Go on, then.”
“As you said, Kitiara and the young knight left Solace, headed northward. They sought news of their fathers, who had both been Knights of Solamnia, and so it seemed logical that they should journey together. Although, from what I gather, they were an ill-matched pair.
“Things went wrong between them, right from the beginning. The very nature of their searches was different. Sturm’s quest was a holy one. He went looking for a father who had been a paragon of knighthood. Kit’s quest wasn’t. She knew, or at least suspected, that her father had been cast out of the knighthood in disgrace. She may have even been in contact with him. Certainly something was drawing her to the Dark Queen’s armies, forming in secret in the north.
“Kit thought that young Brightblade, with his serious-minded dedication and religious fervor, was amusing at first. But that didn’t last long. She was soon bored by him. And then, he began to seriously annoy her. He refused to stay in taverns, claiming they were places of wickedness. He spent every night saying his ritual prayers. By day, he lectured her sternly on her sins. She might have tolerated this, but then the young knight made a terrible mistake. He sought to take charge, to take command.
“Kitiara could not permit this. You knew her. She had to be in control of any situation.” Sara smiled sadly. “Those few months she spent in my house, we did things her way. We ate what she wanted to eat. We talked when she wanted to talk.
“ „Sturm was infuriating,' Kit told me, and her dark eyes flashed when she spoke of him, months later. 'I was the elder, the more experienced warrior. I helped train him! And he had the nerve to begin to order me around!'
“Another person would have simply said, 'Look, my friend, we’re not getting along. This isn’t working out. Let us each go our own separate ways.' But not Kitiara. She wanted to break Sturm, teach him a lesson, teach him who was stronger. At first, she said, she considered goading him into a duel, beating him in a contest at arms. But then she decided that wasn’t humiliating enough. She devised a suitable vengeance. She would prove to the young knight that his armor of self-righteousness would buckle at the first blow. She would seduce him.”
Caramon’s jaw was set, his face rigid. He shifted his great bulk uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Much as he wanted to doubt, it was obvious—knowing the two as he did—that he could see the truth of what had happened much too clearly.
“Brightblade’s seduction became a game for Kit, added spice to what had become a dull, uneventful trip. You know how charming your sister could be when she wanted. She stopped quarreling with Sturm. She pretended to take seriously all he said and did. She admired him, praised him. Sturm was honorable, idealistic, perhaps a little pompous—he was young, after all—and he began to think he had tamed this wild woman, led her to the paths of goodness. And, I’ve no doubt, he was falling a little bit in love with her. It was then she began to tempt him.