"Hah! You couldn't flip me!" Caramon scoffed.
"Maybe not," Tas admitted. "But I can do this."
Clenching his fist, he drove it right into Caramon's broad midriff.
Caramon groaned and doubled over, clutching his gut and sucking air.
"Well struck, kender," came an approving voice that rang out over the laughter of the others.
"Not bad, Tasslehoff. Not bad," said another.
Two people, heavily muffled in furs, were walking through the snow. "Tanis!" Flint roared in welcome. "Kitiara!" Caramon cried out in surprise.
"Tanis and Kitiara!" Tasslehoff yelled, though he'd never seen or met Kitiara before in his life.
"Here, now. Do you all know each other?" Tanis demanded. He looked from Caramon and Raistlin to Kitiara in astonishment.
"I should," answered Kitiara with her crooked grin. "These two are my brothers. The twins I was telling you about. And as for Brightblade, here, he and I used to play together." Her crooked smile gave the words a salacious meaning.
Caramon whistled and poked Sturm in the ribs. Sturm flushed in embarrassment and anger. Saying stiffly that he was needed at home, he bowed coldly to the newcomers, turned on his heel, and stalked off.
"What'd I say?" Kit asked. Then she laughed and, holding out her arms, invited her brothers to her embrace.
Caramon gave her a bear hug. Showing off his strength, he lifted her from the ground.
"Very good, little brother," she said, eyeing him approvingly when he set her down. "You've grown since I saw you last."
"Two whole inches," Caramon said proudly.
Raistlin turned his cheek to his sister, avoided her embrace. Kitiara, with a laugh and a shrug, kissed him, an obliging peck. He stood motionless beneath her scrutinizing gaze, his hands folded in front of him. He was wearing the robes of a mage now, white robes, a gift from his mentor, Antimodes.
"You've grown, too, baby brother," Kit observed.
"Raistlin's grown a whole inch," said Caramon. "It's my cooking that's done it." "That wasn't what I meant," said Kit.
"I know. Thank you, Sister," Raistlin replied. The two exchanged glances, in perfect accord.
"Well, well," said Kit, turning back to Tanis. "Who would have thought it? I leave my brothers babes in arms and come back to find them grown men. And this"-she turned to the dwarf-"this must be Flint Fireforge."
She held out her gloved hand. "Kitiara uth Matar."
"Your servant, ma'am," said Flint, accepting her hand.
The two shook hands with every mark of mutual pleasure in the meeting.
"And I'm Tasslehoff Burrfoot," said Tas, offering one hand to be shaken while the other was gliding toward the young woman's belt.
"How do you do, Tasslehoff," Kit said. "Touch that dagger and I'll use it to slice off your ears," she added good-naturedly.
Something in her voice convinced Tasslehoff that she meant what she said. Being rather fond of his ears, which served to prop up his topknot, Tasslehoff began to rummage through a pouch Tanis obviously didn't want.
Flint deemed that the lessons were over, invited his guests inside for a sip and a bite.
Tanis and Kit shed their cloaks. Kitiara was dressed in a long leather tunic that came to midthigh. She wore a man's shirt, open at the neck, and a finely tooled leather belt of elven make and design. She was unlike any woman the others had ever known, and none of them, including her brothers, seemed to know quite what to make of her.
Her gaze was that of a man, bold and straightforward, not the simpering, blushing modesty of a well-bred woman. Her movements were graceful-the grace of a trained swordsman- and she had the confidence and coolness of a blooded warrior. If she was a bit cocky, that only enhanced her exotic appeal.
"You've noticed my belt," she said, proudly exhibiting the hand-tooled leather girdle that encircled her slender waist. "It's a gift from an admirer."
None of those present had to look far to find the gift giver. Tanis Half-Elven watched Kit's every movement with open admiration.
"I've heard a lot about you, Flint," Kit added. "All good, of course."
"I haven't heard a thing about you," Flint returned, with his customary bluntness. "But I'll wager I will." He looked at Tanis, and mingled with his affection for his friend was a hint of concern. "Where did you two meet?"
"Outside of Qualinesti," said Tanis. "I was on my way back to Solace when I heard screams coming out of the woods. I went to investigate and found what I thought was this young woman being attacked by a goblin. I ran to her aid, only to discover that I'd been mistaken. The screams I'd heard were coming from the goblin."
"Qualinesti," Flint said, eyeing Kit. "What were you-a human-doing in Qualinesti?"
"I wasn't in Qualinesti," Kit said. "I was just near there. I've been in those parts several times. I pass through them on my way here."
"Way through from where?" Flint wondered.
Kit either didn't hear his question or she ignored it. He was about to repeat himself when she motioned her brothers to step forward for introductions.
"I'm Tanis Half-Elven," said Tanis, offering his hand.
Caramon, in his enthusiasm, almost shook the half-elf's hand off. Raistlin brushed his fingers across the half-elf's palm.
"I'm Caramon Majere, and this is my twin brother, Raistlin. We're Kit's half-brothers, really," Caramon explained.
Raistlin said nothing. He curiously examined the half-elf, about whom he'd heard much, for Flint talked about his friend daily. Tanis was dressed like a hunter, in a brown leather jerkin of elven make, green shirt and brown hose, brown traveling boots. He wore a sword at his waist, carried a bow and a quiver of arrows. His elven heritage was not readily apparent, except perhaps in the finely chiseled bones of his face. If his ears were pointed, it was impossible to tell, for they were covered over by his long, thick brown hair. He had the height of an elf, the broader girth of a human.
He was a handsome man, young looking, but possessing the gravity and maturity of a much older man. Small wonder he had attracted Kit's attention.
Tanis regarded the brothers in his turn, marveling at the coincidence. "Kit and I meet by chance on the road. We become friends, and then I arrive home to find her brothers and my best friends have become friends! This meeting was fated, that's all there is to it."
"For a meeting to be fated implies that something significant must come of it in the future. Do you foresee such an occurrence, sir?" Raistlin asked.
"I. I guess it could," Tanis stammered, taken aback. He wasn't quite certain how to respond. "In truth, I meant it as a joke. I didn't intend-"
"Don't mind Raistlin, Tanis," Kitiara interrupted. "He's a deep thinker. The only one in the family, by the way. Stop being so serious, will you?" she said to her younger brother in an undertone. "I like this man and I don't want you scaring him off."
She grinned at Tanis, who smiled back at her. Raistlin knew then that the half-elf and his sister were more than friends. They were lovers. The knowledge and the sudden image in his mind made him feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. He suddenly disliked the half-elf intensely.
"I'm glad to see you've been keeping my old friend Flint out of trouble, at least," Tanis continued. Embarrassed himself, he hoped to change to subject.