Thank
you."
Caramon frowned, shook his head. "But I don't understand
the rest of what you said, Tas. All about the United Elven Na-
tions and Riverwind coming to the Inn when he's been dead
these many years. Something's peculiar here. I'll have to think
about it." Caramon stood up from the booth and headed
toward the door. "I'll just be taking my evening walk, now,
Laura."
"Your dinner will be waiting when you come back, Father,"
she said. Smoothing her apron, she shook the gully dwarf, or-
dered him to pull himself together and get back to work.
"Don't think about it too long, Caramon," Tas called out. "Be-
cause of . . . well, you know."
He looked up at Gerard, who had laid a firm hand on the
kender's shoulder, getting a good grip on flesh and bone this time.
"It's because he's going to be dead pretty soon," Tas said in a
loud whisper. "I didn't like to mention that. It would have been
rude, don't you think?"
"I think you're going to spend the next year in prison," said
Gerard sternly.
Caramon Majere stood at the top of the stairs. "Yes, Tika, dear.
I'm coming," he said. Putting his hand over his heart, he pitched
forward, headfirst.
The kender tore himself free of Gerard, flung himself to the
floor, and burst into tears.
Gerard moved swiftly, but he was too late to halt Caramon's
fall. The big man tumbled and rolled down the stairs of his
beloved Inn. Laura screamed. The patrons cried out in shock and
alarm. People in the street, seeing Caramon falling, began to run
toward the Inn.
Gerard dashed down the stairs as fast as ever he could and
was the first to reach Caramon. He feared to find the big man in
terrible pain, for he must have broken every bone in his body.
Caramon did not appear to be suffering however. He had already
left mortal cares and pain behind, his spirit lingering only long
enough to say good-bye. Laura threw herself beside him on the
ground. Taking hold of his hand, she held it pressed to her lips.
"Don't cry, my dear," he said softly, smiling. "Your mother's
here with me. She'll take good care of me. I'll be fine."
"Oh, Daddy!" Laura sobbed. "Don't leave me yet!"
Caramon's eyes glanced around at the townspeople who had
gathered. He smiled and gave a little nod. He continued to search
through the crowd and he frowned.
"But where's Raistlin?" he asked.
Laura looked startled, but said, brokenly, "Father, your
brother's been dead a long, long time-"
"He said he would wait for me," Caramon said, his voice be-
ginning strong, but growing fainter. "He should be here. Tika's
here. I don't understand. This is not right. Tas. . . What Tas said
. . . A different future. . ."
His gaze came to Gerard. He beckoned the Knight to come
near.
"There's something you must. . . do," said Caramon, his
breath rasping in his chest.
Gerard knelt beside him, more touched by this man's death
than he could have imagined possible. "Yes, sir," he said. "What
is it?"
"Promise me . . ." Caramon whispered. "On your honor. . . as
a Knight."
"I promise," said Gerard. He supposed that the old man was
going to ask him to watch over his daughters or to take care of his
grandchildren, one of whom was also a Solamnic Knight. "What
would you have me do, sir?"
"Dalamar will know. . . . Take Tasslehoff to Dalarnar," Cara-
mon said and his voice was suddenly strong and firm. He looked
intently at Gerard. "Do you promise? Do you swear that you will
do this?"
"But sir," Gerard faltered, "what you ask of me is impossible!
No one has seen Dalamar for years. Most believe that he is dead.
And as for this kender who calls himself Tasslehoff . . ."
Caramon reached out his hand, a hand that was bloody from
his fall. He grasped hold of Gerard's most unwilling hand and
gripped it tightly.
"I promise, sir," said Gerard.
Caramon smiled. He let out his breath and did not draw an-
other. His eyes fixed in death, fixed on Gerard. The hand, even in
death, did not relinquish its grip.
you."
Caramon frowned, shook his head. "But I don't understand
the rest of what you said, Tas. All about the United Elven Na-
tions and Riverwind coming to the Inn when he's been dead
these many years. Something's peculiar here. I'll have to think
about it." Caramon stood up from the booth and headed
toward the door. "I'll just be taking my evening walk, now,
Laura."
"Your dinner will be waiting when you come back, Father,"
she said. Smoothing her apron, she shook the gully dwarf, or-
dered him to pull himself together and get back to work.
"Don't think about it too long, Caramon," Tas called out. "Be-
cause of . . . well, you know."
He looked up at Gerard, who had laid a firm hand on the
kender's shoulder, getting a good grip on flesh and bone this time.
"It's because he's going to be dead pretty soon," Tas said in a
loud whisper. "I didn't like to mention that. It would have been
rude, don't you think?"
"I think you're going to spend the next year in prison," said
Gerard sternly.
Caramon Majere stood at the top of the stairs. "Yes, Tika, dear.
I'm coming," he said. Putting his hand over his heart, he pitched
forward, headfirst.
The kender tore himself free of Gerard, flung himself to the
floor, and burst into tears.
Gerard moved swiftly, but he was too late to halt Caramon's
fall. The big man tumbled and rolled down the stairs of his
beloved Inn. Laura screamed. The patrons cried out in shock and
alarm. People in the street, seeing Caramon falling, began to run
toward the Inn.
Gerard dashed down the stairs as fast as ever he could and
was the first to reach Caramon. He feared to find the big man in
terrible pain, for he must have broken every bone in his body.
Caramon did not appear to be suffering however. He had already
left mortal cares and pain behind, his spirit lingering only long
enough to say good-bye. Laura threw herself beside him on the
ground. Taking hold of his hand, she held it pressed to her lips.
"Don't cry, my dear," he said softly, smiling. "Your mother's
here with me. She'll take good care of me. I'll be fine."
"Oh, Daddy!" Laura sobbed. "Don't leave me yet!"
Caramon's eyes glanced around at the townspeople who had
gathered. He smiled and gave a little nod. He continued to search
through the crowd and he frowned.
"But where's Raistlin?" he asked.
Laura looked startled, but said, brokenly, "Father, your
brother's been dead a long, long time-"
"He said he would wait for me," Caramon said, his voice be-
ginning strong, but growing fainter. "He should be here. Tika's
here. I don't understand. This is not right. Tas. . . What Tas said
. . . A different future. . ."
His gaze came to Gerard. He beckoned the Knight to come
near.
"There's something you must. . . do," said Caramon, his
breath rasping in his chest.
Gerard knelt beside him, more touched by this man's death
than he could have imagined possible. "Yes, sir," he said. "What
is it?"
"Promise me . . ." Caramon whispered. "On your honor. . . as
a Knight."
"I promise," said Gerard. He supposed that the old man was
going to ask him to watch over his daughters or to take care of his
grandchildren, one of whom was also a Solamnic Knight. "What
would you have me do, sir?"
"Dalamar will know. . . . Take Tasslehoff to Dalarnar," Cara-
mon said and his voice was suddenly strong and firm. He looked
intently at Gerard. "Do you promise? Do you swear that you will
do this?"
"But sir," Gerard faltered, "what you ask of me is impossible!
No one has seen Dalamar for years. Most believe that he is dead.
And as for this kender who calls himself Tasslehoff . . ."
Caramon reached out his hand, a hand that was bloody from
his fall. He grasped hold of Gerard's most unwilling hand and
gripped it tightly.
"I promise, sir," said Gerard.
Caramon smiled. He let out his breath and did not draw an-
other. His eyes fixed in death, fixed on Gerard. The hand, even in
death, did not relinquish its grip.
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