Chieftain’s Daughter—and he saw the faith in her eyes. Faith in the gods, and faith in him. He relaxed, his brief moment of panic gone.
A shock wave hit the building. They could hear the screams in the streets below, the roaring whoosh of the fires.
“We’ve got to get off this floor, back to ground level,” Riverwind said. “Caramon, bring the knight’s sword and the other weapons. If Tanis and the others are—” He stopped. He had been about to say “still alive,” then saw Laurana’s face. “If Tanis and the others escape, they’ll return here. We’ll wait for them.”
“Excellent decision!” hissed the mage caustically, “especially as we have nowhere else to go!”
Riverwind ignored him. “Elistan, take the others downstairs. Caramon and Raistlin, stay with me a moment.” After they were gone, he said swiftly, “Our best chance, the way I see it, is to stay inside, barricade ourselves in the Inn. The streets will be deadly.”
“How long do you think we can hold out?” Caramon asked.
Riverwind shook his head. “Hours, maybe,” he said briefly.
The brothers looked at him, each of them thinking about the tortured bodies they had seen in the village of Que-shu, of what they had heard about the destruction of Solace.
“We cannot be taken alive,” Raistlin whispered.
Riverwind took a deep breath. “We’ll hold out as long as we can,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, “but when we know we can last no longer—”
He stopped, unable to continue, his hand on his knife, thinking of what he must do.
“There will be no need for that,” Raistlin said softly. “I have herbs. A tiny bit in a glass of wine. Very quick, painless.”
“Are you certain?” Riverwind asked.
“Trust me,” Raistlin replied. “I am skilled in the art. The art of herblore,” he amended smoothly, seeing the Plainsman shudder.
“If I am alive,” Riverwind said softly, “I will give her, them—the drink myself. If not—”
“I understand. You may trust me,” the mage repeated.
“What about Laurana?” Caramon asked. “You know elves. She won’t—”
“Leave it to me,” Raistlin repeated softly.
The Plainsman stared at the mage, feeling horror creep over him. Raistlin stood before him coolly, his arms folded in the sleeves of his robe, his hood pulled up over his head. Riverwind looked at his dagger, considering the alternative. No, he couldn’t do it. Not that way.
“Very well,” he said, swallowing. He paused, dreading to go downstairs and face the others. But the sounds of death in the street were growing louder. Riverwind turned abruptly and left the brothers alone.
“I will die fighting,” Caramon said to Raistlin, trying to speak in a matter-of-fact tone. After the first few words, though, the big warrior’s voice broke. “Promise me, Raist, you’ll take this stuff if I’m … not there.…”
“There will be no need,” Raistlin said simply. “I have not the strength to survive a battle of this magnitude. I will die within my magic.”
Tanis and Gilthanas fought their way through the crowd, the stronger half-elf holding onto the elf as they shoved and clawed and pushed through the panicked masses. Time and again, they ducked for shelter from the dragons. Gilthanas wrenched his knee, fell into a doorway, and was forced to limp in agony, leaning on Tanis’s shoulder.
The half-elf breathed a prayer of thankfulness when he saw the Red Dragon Inn, a prayer that changed to a curse when he saw the black reptilian forms surging around the front. He dragged Gilthanas, who had been stumbling along blindly, exhausted by pain, back into a recessed doorway.
“Gilthanas!” Tanis shouted. “The Inn! It’s under attack!”
Gilthanas raised glassy eyes and stared uncomprehendingly. Then, apparently understanding, he sighed and shook his head. “Laurana,” he gasped, and he pushed himself forward, trying to stagger out of the doorway. “We’ve got to reach them.” He
A shock wave hit the building. They could hear the screams in the streets below, the roaring whoosh of the fires.
“We’ve got to get off this floor, back to ground level,” Riverwind said. “Caramon, bring the knight’s sword and the other weapons. If Tanis and the others are—” He stopped. He had been about to say “still alive,” then saw Laurana’s face. “If Tanis and the others escape, they’ll return here. We’ll wait for them.”
“Excellent decision!” hissed the mage caustically, “especially as we have nowhere else to go!”
Riverwind ignored him. “Elistan, take the others downstairs. Caramon and Raistlin, stay with me a moment.” After they were gone, he said swiftly, “Our best chance, the way I see it, is to stay inside, barricade ourselves in the Inn. The streets will be deadly.”
“How long do you think we can hold out?” Caramon asked.
Riverwind shook his head. “Hours, maybe,” he said briefly.
The brothers looked at him, each of them thinking about the tortured bodies they had seen in the village of Que-shu, of what they had heard about the destruction of Solace.
“We cannot be taken alive,” Raistlin whispered.
Riverwind took a deep breath. “We’ll hold out as long as we can,” he said, his voice shaking slightly, “but when we know we can last no longer—”
He stopped, unable to continue, his hand on his knife, thinking of what he must do.
“There will be no need for that,” Raistlin said softly. “I have herbs. A tiny bit in a glass of wine. Very quick, painless.”
“Are you certain?” Riverwind asked.
“Trust me,” Raistlin replied. “I am skilled in the art. The art of herblore,” he amended smoothly, seeing the Plainsman shudder.
“If I am alive,” Riverwind said softly, “I will give her, them—the drink myself. If not—”
“I understand. You may trust me,” the mage repeated.
“What about Laurana?” Caramon asked. “You know elves. She won’t—”
“Leave it to me,” Raistlin repeated softly.
The Plainsman stared at the mage, feeling horror creep over him. Raistlin stood before him coolly, his arms folded in the sleeves of his robe, his hood pulled up over his head. Riverwind looked at his dagger, considering the alternative. No, he couldn’t do it. Not that way.
“Very well,” he said, swallowing. He paused, dreading to go downstairs and face the others. But the sounds of death in the street were growing louder. Riverwind turned abruptly and left the brothers alone.
“I will die fighting,” Caramon said to Raistlin, trying to speak in a matter-of-fact tone. After the first few words, though, the big warrior’s voice broke. “Promise me, Raist, you’ll take this stuff if I’m … not there.…”
“There will be no need,” Raistlin said simply. “I have not the strength to survive a battle of this magnitude. I will die within my magic.”
Tanis and Gilthanas fought their way through the crowd, the stronger half-elf holding onto the elf as they shoved and clawed and pushed through the panicked masses. Time and again, they ducked for shelter from the dragons. Gilthanas wrenched his knee, fell into a doorway, and was forced to limp in agony, leaning on Tanis’s shoulder.
The half-elf breathed a prayer of thankfulness when he saw the Red Dragon Inn, a prayer that changed to a curse when he saw the black reptilian forms surging around the front. He dragged Gilthanas, who had been stumbling along blindly, exhausted by pain, back into a recessed doorway.
“Gilthanas!” Tanis shouted. “The Inn! It’s under attack!”
Gilthanas raised glassy eyes and stared uncomprehendingly. Then, apparently understanding, he sighed and shook his head. “Laurana,” he gasped, and he pushed himself forward, trying to stagger out of the doorway. “We’ve got to reach them.” He
Similar Books
