Dragonlance 02 - Dragons of Winter Night (23 page)

“Do you know,” he said softly, “I never thought I’d say it, but I miss Raistlin. I miss all of them. I feel as if a part of me’s been cut off, and that’s how I felt when I was in Solamnia. That’s why I came back, instead of waiting and completing the tests for my knighthood. These people—my friends—were doing more to combat evil in the world than all the Knights lined up in a row. Even Raistlin, in some way I can’t understand.
He
could tell us what all this means.” He jerked his thumb back at the ice-encased knight. “At least he would believe in it. If he were here. If Tanis were here—” Sturm could not go on.

“Yes,” Laurana said quietly. “If Tanis were here—”

Remembering her great sorrow, so much greater than his own, Sturm put his arm around Laurana and held her close. The two stood for a moment, each comforted for their losses by the other’s presence. Then Derek’s voice came sharply back to them, reprimanding them for lagging behind.

And now, the broken lance, wrapped in Laurana’s fur cloak, lay in the chest with the dragon orb and Wyrmslayer, Tanis’s sword, which Laurana and Sturm had carried with them from Tarsis. Beside the chest lay the bodies of the two young knights, who had given their lives in defense of the group, and who were being carried back to be buried in their homeland.

The strong southern wind, blowing swift and cold from the glaciers, propelled the ship across the Sirrion Sea. The captain said that, if the winds held, they might make Sancrist in two days.

“That way lies Southern Ergoth.” The captain told Elistan, pointing off to starboard. “We’ll be just coming up on the south end of it. This nightfall, you’ll see the Isle of Cristyne. Then, with a fair wind, we’ll be in Sancrist. Strange thing about Southern Ergoth,” the captain added, glancing at Laurana, “it’s filled with elves, they say, though I haven’t been there to know if that’s true.”

“Elves!” said Laurana eagerly, coming forward to stand beside the captain, the early morning wind whipping her cloak.

“Fled their homeland, so I heard,” the captain continued. “Driven off by the dragonarmies.”

“Perhaps it’s our people!” Laurana said, clutching at Gilthanas, who stood next to her. She gazed out over the bow of the ship intently, as if she could will the land to appear.

“Most likely the Silvanesti,” Gilthanas said. “In fact, I think Lady Alhana may have mentioned something about Ergoth. Do you remember, Sturm?”

“No,” the knight answered abruptly. Turning and walking over to the port side of the ship, he leaned against the railing, staring out across the pink-tinged sea. Laurana saw him pull something from his belt and run his fingers over it lovingly. There was a bright flash, as it caught the sun’s rays, then he slipped it back into his belt. His head bowed. Laurana started
to go to him when suddenly she stopped, catching a glimpse of movement.

“What kind of strange cloud is that to the south?”

The captain turned immediately, whipping his spyglass out of the pocket of his fur parka and placing it to his eye. “Send a man aloft,” he snapped to his first mate.

Within moments, a sailor was scampering up the rigging. Clinging to the dizzying heights of the mast with one arm, he peered south through the spyglass.

“Can you make it out?” the captain called aloft.

“No, capt’n,” the man bellowed. “If it’s a cloud, it’s like none I’ve seen afore.”

“I’ll look!” volunteered Tasslehoff eagerly. The kender began to climb the ropes as skillfully as the sailor. Reaching the mast, he clung to the rigging near the man and stared south.

It certainly seemed to be a cloud. It was huge and white and appeared to be floating above the water. But it was moving much more rapidly than any other cloud in the sky and—

Tasslehoff gasped. “Let me borrow that,” he asked, holding out his hand for the watch’s spyglass. Reluctantly, the man gave it to him. Tas put it to his eye, then he groaned softly. “Oh, dear,” he muttered. Lowering the spyglass, he shut it up with a snap and absently stuffed it into his tunic. The sailor caught him by the collar as he was about to slide down.

“What?” Tas said, startled. “Oh! Is that yours? Sorry.” Giving the spyglass a wistful pat, he handed it back to the sailor. Tas slid skillfully down the ropes, landed lightly on the deck, and came running over to Sturm.

“It’s a dragon,” he reported breathlessly.

T
he dragon’s name was Sleet. She was a white dragon, a species of dragon smaller than other dragons dwelling in Krynn. Born and bred in the arctic regions, these dragons were able to withstand extreme cold, and controlled the ice-bound southern regions of Ansalon.

Because of their smaller size, the white dragons were the swiftest flyers of all dragonkind. The Dragon Highlords often used them for scouting missions. Thus Sleet had been away from her lair in Ice Wall when the companions entered it in search of the dragon orb. The Dark Queen had received a report that Silvanesti had been invaded by a group of adventurers. They had managed, somehow, to defeat Cyan Bloodbane and were reportedly in possession of a dragon orb.

The Dark Queen guessed they might be traveling across the Plains of Dust, along the Kings Road, which was the most
direct overland route to Sancrist where the Knights of Solamnia were reportedly trying to regroup. The Dark Queen ordered Sleet and her flight of white dragons to speed north to the Plains of Dust, now lying under a thick, heavy blanket of packed snow, to find the orb.

Seeing the snow glistening beneath her, Sleet doubted very much if even humans would be foolhardy enough to attempt to cross the wasteland. But she had her orders and she followed them. Scattering her flight, Sleet scoured every inch of land from the borders of Silvanesti on the east to the Kharolis Mountains on the west. A few of her dragons even flew as far north as New Coast, which was held by the blues.

The dragons met to report that they had seen no sign of any living being on the Plains when Sleet received word that danger had marched in the back door while she was out scouting the front.

Furious, Sleet flew back but arrived too late. Feal-thas was dead, the dragon orb missing. But her walrus-men allies, the Thanoi, were able to describe the group who had committed this heinous act. They even pointed out the direction their ship had sailed, although there was only one direction any ship could sail from Ice Wall—north.

Sleet reported the loss of the dragon orb to her Dark Queen, who was intensely angry and frightened. Now there were two orbs missing! Although secure in the knowledge that her force for evil was the strongest in Krynn, the Dark Queen knew with a nagging certainty that the forces of good still walked the land. One of these might prove strong and wise enough to figure out the secret of the orb.

Sleet, therefore, was ordered to find the orb and bring it not back to Ice Wall, but to the Queen herself. Under no circumstances was the dragon to lose it or allow it to be lost. The orbs were intelligent and imbued with a strong sense of survival. Thus they had lived this long when even those who created them were dead.

Sleet sped out over the Sirrion Sea, her strong white wings soon carrying her swiftly to within sight of the ship. But now Sleet was presented with an interesting intellectual problem, and she was not prepared to handle it.

Perhaps because of the inbreeding necessary to create a reptile that can tolerate cold weather, white dragons are the
lowest in intelligence among dragonkind. Sleet had never needed to think much on her own. Feal-thas always told her what to do. Consequently, she was considerably perplexed over her current problem as she circled the ship: how could she get the orb?

At first she had just planned to freeze the ship with her icy breath. Then she realized this would simply enclose the orb in a frozen block of wood, making it extremely difficult to remove. There was also every probability the ship would sink before she could tear it apart. And if she did manage to take the ship apart, the orb might sink. The ship was too heavy to lift in her claws and fly to land. Sleet circled the ship and pondered, while down below she could see the pitiful humans racing around like scared mice.

The white dragon considered sending another telepathic message to her Queen, asking for help. But Sleet hesitated to remind the vengeful queen of either her presence or her ignorance. The dragon followed the ship all day, hanging just above it, pondering. Floating easily on the wind currents, she let her dragon fear stir the humans into a frenzy of panic. Then, just as the sun was setting, Sleet had an idea. Without stopping to think, she acted upon it at once.

Tasslehoff’s report of the white dragon following the vessel sent waves of terror through the crew. They armed themselves with cutlasses and grimly prepared to fight the beast as long as they could, though all knew how such a contest must end. Gilthanas and Laurana, both skillful archers, fit arrows to their bows. Sturm and Derek held shield and sword. Tasslehoff grabbed his hoopak. Flint tried to get out of bed, but he couldn’t even stand up. Elistan was calm, praying to Paladine.

“I have more faith in my sword than that old man and his god,” Derek said to Sturm.

“The Knights have always honored Paladine,” Sturm said in rebuke.

“I honor him—his memory,” Derek said. “I find this talk of Paladine’s ‘return’ disturbing, Brightblade. And so will the Council, when they hear of it. You would do well to consider that when the question of your knighthood arises.”

Sturm bit his lip, swallowing his angry retort like bitter medicine.

Long minutes passed. Everyone’s eyes were on the white-winged creature flying above them. But they could do nothing, and so they waited.

And waited. And waited. The dragon did not attack.

She circled above them endlessly, her shadow crossing and crisscrossing the deck with monotonous, chilling regularity. The sailors, who had been prepared to fight without question, soon began to mutter among themselves as the waiting grew unbearable. To make matters worse, the dragon seemed to be sucking up the wind, for the sails fluttered and drooped lifelessly. The ship lost its graceful forward momentum and began to flounder in the water. Storm clouds gathered on the northern horizon and slowly drifted over the water, casting a pall across the bright sea.

Laurana finally lowered her bow and rubbed her aching back and shoulder muscles. Her eyes, dazzled from staring into the sun, were blurred and watery.

“Put ’em in a lifeboat and cast ’em adrift,” she overheard one old grizzled sailor suggest to a companion in a voice meant to carry. “Perhaps yon great beast will let us go. It’s them she’s after, not us.”

It’s not even us she’s after, Laurana thought uneasily. It’s probably the dragon orb. That’s why she hasn’t attacked. But Laurana couldn’t tell this, even to the captain. The dragon orb must be kept secret.

The afternoon crept on, and still the dragon circled like a horrible seabird. The captain was growing more and more irritable. Not only did he have a dragon to contend with, but the likelihood of mutiny as well. Near dinnertime, he ordered the companions below decks.

Derek and Sturm both refused, and it appeared things might get out of hand when, “Land ho, off the starboard bow!”

“Southern Ergoth,” the captain said grimly. “The current’s carrying us toward the rocks.” He glanced up at the circling dragon. “If a wind doesn’t come soon, we’ll smash up on them.”

At that moment, the dragon quit circling. She hovered a moment, then soared upward. The sailors cheered, thinking she was flying away. But Laurana knew better, remembering Tarsis.

“She’s going to dive!” she cried. “She’s going to attack!”

“Get below!” Sturm shouted, and the sailors, after one hesitant look skyward, began to scramble for the hatches. The captain ran to the wheel.

“Get below,” he ordered the helmsman, taking over.

“You can’t stay up here!” Sturm shouted. Leaving the hatch, he ran back to the captain. “She’ll kill you!”

“We’ll founder if I don’t,” the captain cried angrily.

“We’ll founder if you’re dead!” Sturm said. Clenching his fist, he hit the captain in the jaw and dragged him below.

Laurana stumbled down the stairs with Gilthanas behind her. The elflord waited until Sturm brought the unconscious captain down, then he pulled the hatch cover shut.

At that moment, the dragon hit the ship with a blast that nearly sent the vessel under. The ship listed precariously. Everyone, even the most hardened sailor, lost his feet and went skidding into each other in the crowded quarters below deck. Flint rolled onto the floor with a curse.

“Now’s the time to pray to your god,” Derek said to Elistan.

“I am,” Elistan replied coolly, helping the dwarf up.

Laurana, clinging to a post, waited fearfully for the flaring orange light, the heat, the flames. Instead, there was a sudden sharp and biting cold that took her breath away and chilled her blood. She could hear, above her, rigging snap and crack, the flapping of the sails cease. Then, as she stared upward, she saw white frost begin to sift down between the cracks in the wooden deck.