"Good." Raistlin sighed. The elation had drained away. The battle with his brother had sapped his energy, leaving him weak and exhausted. He wanted to lie down, to be quiet and alone in the comforting darkness.
"What do I tell the others?" Caramon asked.
"Whatever you choose," Raistlin returned, heading for his room. "I don't care, so long as you make no mention of the truth."
"Raist." Caramon paused, then asked, "You wouldn't do what you said, would you? Disown me? Claim that you never had a brother?"
"Oh, don't be such an idiot, Caramon," Raistlin said and went to his bed.
Chapter 4
Caramon informed Sturm the next day that neither he nor his brother could accompany him to Solamnia. Sturm tried arguing and persuading, but Caramon remained adamant, though he could give no clear reason for his change of heart. Sturm marked Caramon as being worried and preoccupied about something. Assuming that Raistlin had decided not to go and had forbidden his brother to go without him, Sturm- though offended and hurt-said no more about the matter.
"If you want a traveling companion, Brightblade, I'll go with you myself," Kitiara offered. "I know the fastest and best routes north. Plus, from what I've heard, there's dark doings happening up that way. We shouldn't either of us travel alone, and since we're heading the same direction, it makes sense that we travel together."
The three were in the Inn of the Last Home, drinking a glass of ale. Having stopped by her brother's home, Kit had recognized immediately that the twins were up to something and was angry when they maintained that nothing unusual was going on. Well aware that she would never be able to pry the secret from Raistlin, she hoped to be able to tease the truth out of the more pliable Caramon.
"You and Tanis would be most welcome, Kitiara," Sturm said, recovering from his initial astonishment at her offer. "I did not ask you at first because I knew Tanis planned to accompany Flint on his summer journeys, but-"
"Tanis won't be going with me," Kit said tonelessly, flatly. She drained her tankard of ale and loudly called out for Otik to bring her another.
Sturm looked over at Caramon, wondering what was going on. Tanis and Kitiara had been together all winter, closer and more affectionate than ever.
Caramon shook his head to indicate that he had no idea.
Sturm was troubled. "I'm not certain-"
"Fine. It's settled. I'm coining," Kit said, refusing to listen to any arguments. "Now, Caramon, tell me why you and that wizard brother of yours won't come with us. Four traveling the road is much safer. Besides, there's some people up north I want you to meet."
"Like I told Sturm, I can't go," Caramon said.
His usually cheerful face was shadowed, grave. He hadn't drunk even a sip of his ale, which had by now gone flat. Shoving it aside, he stood up, flung a coin on the table, and left.
He didn't feel comfortable around Kitiara anymore. He was glad she was leaving, relieved that Tanis wasn't going with her. He had often felt that he should tell Tanis the truth about that night. Tell Tanis that Kit had been the one to murder Judith. Tell Tanis that she had urged Caramon to let Raistlin take the blame, to let Raistlin die.
She had claimed that she was joking. Still.
Caramon gave a relieved sigh. She would leave, and if they were lucky, she would not return. Caramon was worried about Sturm, who would be traveling in Kit's company, but on reflection, Caramon decided that the young knight, bolstered by his reliance on the Oath and the Measure, could look after himself. Besides, as Kit said, traveling alone was dangerous.
Caramon's main concern was for Tanis, who would be terribly hurt by Kit's decision to leave. Caramon figured-logically-that Kitiara, the restless firebrand, was the one who had ended the relationship.
It was Raistlin who discovered the truth.
Although he had several months to wait before he and Caramon would undertake their journey to the Tower, Raistlin began immediately to make preparations. One of these involved the retooling of the leather thong that held the knife on Raistlin's wrist, concealed beneath his robes. A flick of that wrist was supposed to cause the knife to drop down, unseen, into the mage's hand.
At least that was how the thong was designed to work. Raistlin's wrist was far thinner than the wrist of the war mage who had originally worn it, however. When Raistlin tried wearing the contraption, the thong itself dropped into his hand. The knife fell to the floor. He took it to Flint, hoping the dwarf could fix it.
Flint, looking the thong over, was impressed with the workmanship, thought it might be dwarven.
According to Lemuel, the Qualinesti elves had made the knife and the thong as a gift to their friend, the war mage.
Raistlin made no mention of this, however. He agreed with the dwarf that the thong was undoubtedly constructed by some great dwarven leatherworker. Flint offered to adjust the size if Raistlin would leave the thong with him for a week or two.
Raistlin had his hand on the doorknocker, was about to knock, when he heard faint voices inside. The voices belonged to Tanis and Flint. Raistlin could distinguish only a few words, but one was "Kitiara."
Certain that any conversation about his sister would cease if he were introduced into it, Raistlin carefully and quietly lowered his hand from the knocker. He looked to see if anyone was in sight. Finding that he was alone, Raistlin slipped around the side of the house to Flint's workshop. The dwarf had opened the window to let in the soft spring breeze. Hidden from view by a fall of purple clematis, which grew up the side of the workshop, Raistlin stood to one side of the window.
Any qualms he might have had about eavesdropping on his friends were easily settled. He had often wondered how much Tanis knew about Kit's activities: midnight meetings with strangers, the murder of the priestess. Was Kit fleeing danger? Had Tanis threatened to denounce her? And where did that leave Raistlin if this were the case? Quite understandably, he had small faith in his sister's loyalty.
"We've been arguing for days," Tanis was saying. "She wants me to come north with her."
The conversation was interrupted by a moment's furious hammering. When that was finished, the talk resumed.
"She claims to have friends who will pay large sums to those skilled with bow and blade." "Even half-elves?" Flint grunted.
"I pointed that out, but she says-rightly so-that I could hide my heritage if I wanted. I could grow a beard, wear my hair long to cover my ears."
"A fine sight you'd look with a beard!"
Flint plied the hammer again.
"Well? Are you going?" he asked when the hammering had stopped.
"No, I'm not," Tanis said, speaking reluctantly, loath to share his feelings even with his longtime friend. "I need time away from her. Time to think things through. I can't think when I'm around Kitiara. The truth is, Flint, I'm falling in love with her."
Raistlin snorted, almost laughed. He swallowed his mirth, fearing to give himself away. He would have expected something inane like this from Caramon, but not the half-elf, who had certainly lived long enough to know better.
Tanis spoke more rapidly, relieved to be able to talk about it. "The one time I ever even hinted at marriage, Kit laughed me to scorn. She scolded me about it for days after. Why did I want to ruin all our fun? We shared a bed, what more could I want? But I'm not happy just sharing my bed with her, Flint. I want to share my life with her, my dreams and hopes and plans. I want to settle down. She doesn't. She feels trapped, caged. She's restless and bored. We quarrel continually, over stupid things. If we stayed together, she would come to resent me, perhaps even hate me, and I couldn't bear that. I will miss her terribly, but it's better this way."