Dragonlance 03 - Dragons of Spring Dawning (15 page)

“Great was the grief of the good dragons when Paladine woke them from their sleep and they discovered what had occurred. They went to Takhisis to find out what price they would have to pay for the return of their unborn children. It was a terrible price. Takhisis demanded an oath. Each of the good dragons must swear that they would not participate in the war she was about to wage on Krynn. It was the good dragons who had helped bring about her defeat in the last war. This time she meant to insure that they would not become involved.”

Here Silvara looks at me pleadingly, as if I were to judge them. I shake my head sternly. Far be it from me to judge anyone. I am a historian.

She continues:

“What could we do? Takhisis told us they would murder our children as they slept in their eggs unless we took the Oath. Paladine could not help us. The choice was ours.…”

Silvara’s head droops, her hair hiding her face. I can hear tears choke her voice. Her words are barely audible to me.

“We took the Oath.”

She cannot continue, that is obvious. After staring at her for a moment, Gilthanas clears his throat and begins to speak, his voice harsh.

“I, that is, Theros and my sister and I, finally persuaded Silvara that this Oath was wrong. There must be a way, we said, to rescue the eggs of the good dragons. Perhaps a small force of men might be able to steal the eggs back. Silvara was not convinced that I was right, but she did agree, after much talking, to take me to Sanction so that I could see for myself if such a plan might work.

“Our journey was long and difficult. Someday I may relate the dangers we faced, but I cannot now. I am too weary and we do not have time. The dragonarmies are reorganizing. We can catch them offguard, if we attack soon. I can see Laurana burning with impatience, eager to pursue them, even as we are speaking. So I will make our tale short.

“Silvara, in her ‘elven form’ as you see her now”—the bitterness in the elflord’s voice cannot be expressed—“and I were captured outside of Sanction and made prisoners of the Dragon Highlord, Ariakas.”

Gilthanas’s fist clenches, his face is pale with anger and fear.

“Lord Verminaard was nothing, nothing compared to Lord Ariakas. This man’s evil power is immense! And he is as intelligent as he is cruel, for it is his strategy that controls the dragonarmies and has led them to victory after victory.

“The suffering we endured at his hands, I cannot describe. I do not believe I can ever relate what they did to us!”

The young elflord trembles violently. Silvara starts to reach out a hand to comfort him, but he draws away from her and continues his story.

“Finally, with help, we escaped. We were in Sanction itself, a hideous town, built in the valley formed by the volcanoes, the Lords of Doom. These mountains tower over all, their foul smoke corrupts the air. The buildings are all new and modern, constructed with the blood of slaves. Built into the sides of the mountains is a temple to Takhisis, the Dark Queen. The dragon eggs are held deep within the heart of the volcanoes. It was here, into the temple of the Dark Queen, that Silvara and I made our way.

“Can I describe the temple, except to say it is a building of darkness and of flame? Tall pillars, carved out of the burning rock, soar into the sulphurous caverns. By secret ways known only to the priests of Takhisis themselves, we traveled, descending lower and lower. You ask who helped us? I cannot say, for her life would be forfeit. I will add only that some god must have been watching over us.”

Here Silvara interrupts to murmur, “Paladine,” but Gilthanas brushes that aside with a gesture.

“We came to the very bottom chambers and here we found the eggs of the good dragons. At first it seemed all was well.
I had … a plan. It matters little now, but I saw how we might have been able to rescue the eggs. As I said, it matters little. Chamber after chamber we passed, and the shining eggs, the eggs tinged with silver, gold, and bronze lay gleaming in the fire’s light. And then …”

The elflord pauses. His face, already paler than death, grows more pallid still. Fearing he might faint, I beckon to one of the Aesthetics to bring him wine. On taking a sip, he rallies and keeps on talking. But I can tell by the far-off look in his eyes that he sees the remembered horror of what he witnessed. As for Silvara, I will write of her in its place.

Gilthanas continues:

“We came to a chamber and found there … not eggs … nothing but the shells … shattered, broken. Silvara cried out in anger, and I feared we might be discovered. Neither of us knew what this portended, but we both felt a chill in our blood that not even the heat of the volcano could warm.”

Gilthanas pauses. Silvara begins to sob, very softly. He looks at her and I see, for the first time, love and compassion in his eyes.

“Take her out,” he tells one of the Aesthetics. “She must rest.”

The Aesthetics lead her gently from the room. Gilthanas licks lips that are cracked and dry, then speaks softly.

“What happened next will haunt me, even after death. Nightly I dream of it. I have not slept since but that I waken, screaming.

“Silvara and I stood before the chamber with the shattered eggs, staring at it, wondering … when we heard the sound of chanting coming from the flame-lit corridor.

“ ‘The words of magic!’ Silvara said.

“Cautiously we crept nearer, both of us frightened, yet drawn by some horrid fascination. Closer and closer we came, and then we could see …”

He shuts his eyes, he sobs. Laurana lays her hand on his arm, her eyes soft with mute sympathy. Gilthanas regains control and goes on.

“Inside a cavern room, at the bottom of the volcano, stands an altar to Takhisis. What it may have been carved to represent, I could not tell, for it was so covered with green blood and black slime that it seemed a horrid growth springing from the rock. Around the altar were robed figures—dark clerics of
Takhisis and magic-users wearing the Black Robes. Silvara and I watched in awe as a dark-robed cleric brought forth a shining golden dragon egg and placed it upon that foul altar. Joining hands, the Black Robed magic-users and the dark clerics began a chant. The words burned the mind. Silvara and I clung to each other, fearing we would be driven mad by the evil we could feel but could not understand.

“And then … then the golden egg upon the altar began to darken. As we watched, it turned to a hideous green and then to black. Silvara began to tremble.

“The blackened egg upon the altar cracked open … and a larva-like creature emerged from the shell. It was loathsome and corrupt to look upon, and I retched at the sight. My only thought was to flee this horror, but Silvara realized what was happening and she refused to leave. Together we watched as the larva split its slime-covered skin and from its body came the evil forms of … draconians.”

There is a gasp of shock at this statement. Gilthanas’s head sinks into his hands. He cannot continue. Laurana puts her arms around him, comforting him, and he holds onto her hands. Finally he draws a shuddering breath.

“Silvara and I … were nearly discovered. We escaped Sanction, with help once again, and, more dead than alive, we traveled paths unknown to man or elf to the ancient haven of the good dragons.”

Gilthanas sighs. A look of peace comes to his face.

“Compared to the horrors we had endured, this was like sweet rest after a night of feverish nightmares. It was difficult to imagine, amid the beauty of the place, that what we had seen really occurred. And when Silvara told the dragons what was happening to their eggs, they refused at first to believe it. Some even accused Silvara of making it up to try to win their aid. But, deep within their hearts, all knew she spoke truly, and so, at last, they admitted that they had been deceived and that the Oath was no longer binding.

“The good dragons have come to aid us now. They are flying to all parts of the land, offering their help. They have returned to the Monument of the Dragon, to aid in forging the dragonlances just as they came to Huma’s aid long ago. And they have brought with them the Greater Lances that can be mounted on the dragons themselves, as we saw in the
paintings. Now we may ride the dragons into battle and challenge the Dragon Highlords in the sky.”

Gilthanas adds more, a few minor details that I need not record here. Then his sister leads him from the library to the palace, where he and Silvara may find what rest they can. I fear it will be long before the terror fades for them, if it ever does. Like so much that is beautiful in the world, it may be that their love will fall beneath the darkness that spreads its foul wings over Krynn.

Thus ends the writing of Astinus of Palanthas on the Oath of the Dragons. A footnote reveals that further details of the journey of Gilthanas and Silvara into Sanction, their adventures there, and the tragic history of their love were recorded by Astinus at a later date and may be found in subsequent volumes of his
Chronicles.

Laurana sat late at night, writing up her orders for the morrow. Only a day had passed since the arrival of Gilthanas and the silver dragons, but already her plans for pressing the beleaguered enemy were taking shape. Within a few days more, she would lead flights of dragons with mounted riders, wielding the new dragonlances, into battle.

She hoped to secure Vingaard Keep first, freeing the prisoners and slaves held there. Then she planned to push on south and east, driving the dragonarmies before her. Finally she would catch them between the hammer of her troops and the anvil of the Dargaard Mountains that divided Solamnia from Estwilde. If she could retake Kalaman and its harbor, she could cut the supply lines the dragonarmy depended on for its survival on this part of the continent.

So intent was Laurana on her plans that she ignored the ringing challenge of the guard outside her door, nor did she hear the answer. The door opened, but, assuming it was one of her aides, she did not look up from her work until she had completed detailing her orders.

Only when the person who entered took the liberty of sitting down in a chair across from her did Laurana glance up, startled.

“Oh,” she said, flushing, “Gilthanas, forgive me. I was so involved.… I thought you were … but, never mind. How are you feeling? I was worried—”

“I’m all right, Laurana,” Gilthanas said abruptly. “I was just more tired than I realized and I—I haven’t slept very well since Sanction.” Falling silent, he sat staring at the maps she had spread on her table. Absently he picked up a freshly sharpened quill pen and began to smooth the feather with his fingers.

“What is it, Gilthanas?” Laurana asked softly.

Her brother looked up at her and smiled sadly. “You know me too well,” he said. “I never could hide anything from you, not even when we were children.”

“Is it Father?” Laurana asked fearfully. “Have you heard something—”

“No, I’ve heard nothing about our people,” Gilthanas said, “except what I told you, that they have allied with the humans and are working together to drive the dragonarmies from the Ergoth Isles and from Sancrist.”

“It was all because of Alhana,” Laurana murmured. “She convinced them that they could no longer live apart from the world. She even convinced Porthios.…”

“I gather she has convinced him of more than that?” Gilthanas asked without looking at his sister. He began to poke holes in the parchment with the point of the quill.

“There has been talk of a marriage,” Laurana said slowly. “If so, I am certain it would be a marriage of convenience only, to unite our people. I cannot imagine Porthios has it in his heart to love anyone, even a woman as beautiful as Alhana. As for the elven princess herself—”

Gilthanas sighed. “Her heart is buried in the High Clerist’s Tower with Sturm.”

“How did you know?” Laurana looked at him, astonished.

“I saw them together in Tarsis,” Gilthanas said. “I saw his face, and I saw hers. I knew about the Starjewel, too. Since he obviously wanted to keep it secret, I did not betray him. He was a fine man,” Gilthanas added gently. “I am proud to have known him, and I never thought I would say that of a human.”

Laurana swallowed, brushing her hand across her eyes. “Yes,” she whispered huskily, “but that wasn’t what you came to tell me.”

“No,” Gilthanas said, “although perhaps it leads into it.” For a moment he sat in silence, as if making up his mind. Then he drew a breath. “Laurana, something happened in Sanction
that I did not tell Astinus. I won’t tell anyone else, ever, if you ask me not to—”

“Why me?” Laurana said, turning pale. Her hand trembling, she laid down her pen.

Gilthanas seemed not to have heard her. He stared fixedly at the map as he spoke. “When—when we were escaping from Sanction, we had to go back to the palace of Lord Ariakas. I cannot tell you more than that, for to do so would betray the one who saved our lives many times and who lives in danger there still, doing what she can to save as many of her people as possible.

“The night we were there, in hiding, waiting to escape, we overheard a conversation between Lord Ariakas and one of his Highlords. It was a woman, Laurana”—Gilthanas looked up at her now—“a human woman named Kitiara.”

Laurana said nothing. Her face was deathly white, her eyes large and colorless in the lamplight.

Gilthanas sighed, then leaned near her and placed his hand on hers. Her flesh was so cold, she might have been a corpse, and he saw, then, that she knew what he was about to say.

“I remembered what you told me before we left Qualinesti, that this was the human woman Tanis Half-Elven loved, sister to Caramon and Raistlin. I recognized her from what I had heard the brothers say about her. I would have recognized her anyway, she and Raistlin, particularly, bear a family resemblance. She, she was talking of Tanis, Laurana.” Gilthanas stopped, wondering whether or not he could go on. Laurana sat perfectly still, her face a mask of ice.

“Forgive me for causing you pain, Laurana, but you must know,” Gilthanas said at last. “Kitiara laughed about Tanis with this Lord Ariakas and said”—Gilthanas flushed—“I cannot repeat what she said. But they are lovers, Laurana, that much I can tell you. She made it graphically clear. She asked Ariakas’s permission to have Tanis promoted to the rank of general in the dragonarmy … in return for some sort of information he was going to provide, something about a Green Gemstone Man—”