Dragonlance 03 - Dragons of Spring Dawning (22 page)

“Strengthened by the love of the girl he had wronged, Lord Soth left for Istar, fully intending to stop the Kingpriest and restore his shattered honor.

“But the knight was halted in his journey by elven women, disciples of the Kingpriest, who knew of Lord Soth’s crime and threatened to ruin him. To weaken the effects of the elfmaid’s love, they intimated that she had been unfaithful to him in his absence.

“Soth’s passions took hold of him, destroying his reason. In a jealous rage he rode back to Dargaard Keep. Entering his door, he accused the innocent girl of betraying him. Then the Cataclysm struck. The great chandelier in the entryway fell to the floor, consuming the elfmaid and her child in flames. As she died, she called down a curse upon the knight, condeming him to eternal, dreadful life. Soth and his followers perished in the fire, only to be reborn in hideous form.” “So this is what he hears,” Ariakas murmured, listening.

B
akaris slept fitfully in his jail cell. Though haughty and insolent during the day, his nights were tortured by erotic dreams of Kitiara and fearful dreams of his execution at the hands of the Knights of Solamnia. Or perhaps it was his execution at Kitiara’s hands. He was never certain, when he woke in a cold sweat, which it had been. Lying in his cold cell in the still hours of the night when he could not sleep, Bakaris cursed the elven woman who had been the cause of his downfall. Over and over he plotted his revenge upon her—if only she would fall into his hands.

Bakaris was thinking of this, hovering between sleep and wakefulness, when the sound of a key in the lock of his cell door brought him to his feet. It was near dawn, near the hour of execution! Perhaps the knights were coming for him!

“Who is it?” Bakaris called harshly.

“Hush!” commanded a voice. “You are in no danger, if you keep quiet and do as you are told.”

Bakaris sat back down on his bed in astonishment. He recognized the voice. How not? Night after night it had spoken in his vengeful thoughts. The elfwoman! And the commander could see two other figures in the shadows, small figures. The dwarf and the kender, most likely. They always hung around the elfwoman.

The cell door opened. The elfwoman glided inside. She was heavily cloaked and carried another cloak in her hand.

“Hurry,” she ordered coldly. “Put this on.”

“Not until I know what this is about,” Bakaris said suspiciously, though his soul sang for joy.

“We are exchanging you for … for another prisoner,” Laurana replied.

Bakaris frowned. He mustn’t seem too eager.

“I don’t believe you,” he stated, lying back down on his bed. “It’s a trap—”

“I don’t care what you believe!” Laurana snapped impatiently. “You’re coming if I have to knock you senseless! It won’t matter whether you are conscious or not, just so long as I’m able to exhibit you to Kiti—the one wants you!”

Kitiara! So that was it. What was she up to? What game was she playing? Bakaris hesitated. He didn’t trust Kit any more than she trusted him. She was quite capable of using him to further her own ends, which is undoubtedly what she was doing now. But perhaps he could use her in return. If only he knew what was going on! But looking at Laurana’s pale, rigid face, Bakaris knew that she was quite prepared to carry out her threat. He would have to bide his time.

“It seems I have no choice,” he said. Moonlight filtered through a barred window into the filthy cell, shining on Bakaris’s face. He’d been in prison for weeks. How long he didn’t know, he’d lost count. As he reached for the cloak, he caught Laurana’s cold green eyes, which were fixed on him intently, narrow slightly in disgust.

Self-consciously, Bakaris raised his good hand and scratched the new growth of beard.

“Pardon, your ladyship,” he said sarcastically, “but the servants in your establishment have not thought fit to bring me a razor. I know how the sight of facial hair disgusts you elves!”

To his surprise, Bakaris saw his words draw blood. Laurana’s face turned pale, her lips chalk-white. Only by a supreme effort did she control herself. “Move!” she said in a strangled voice.

At the sound, the dwarf entered the room, hand on his battle-axe. “You heard the general,” Flint snarled. “Get going. Why your miserable carcass is worth trading for Tanis—”

“Flint!” said Laurana tersely.

Suddenly Bakaris understood!

Kitiara’s plan began to take shape in his mind.

“So—Tanis! He’s the one I’m being exchanged for.” He watched Laurana’s face closely. No reaction. He might have been speaking of a stranger instead of a man Kitiara had told him was this woman’s lover. He tried again, testing his theory. “I wouldn’t call him a prisoner, however, unless you speak of a prisoner of love. Kit must have tired of him. Ah, well. Poor man. I’ll miss him. He and I have much in common—”

Now
there was a reaction. He saw the delicate jaws clench, the shoulders tremble beneath the cloak. Without a word, Laurana turned and stalked out of the cell. So he was right. This had something to do with the bearded half-elf. But what? Tanis had left Kit in Flotsam. Had she found him again? Had he returned to her? Bakaris fell silent, wrapping the cloak around him. Not that it mattered, not to him. He would be able to use this new information for his own revenge. Recalling Laurana’s strained and rigid face in the moonlight, Bakaris thanked the Dark Queen for her favors as the dwarf shoved him out the cell door.

The sun had not risen yet, although a faint pink line on the eastern horizon foretold that dawn was an hour or so away. It was still dark in the city of Kalaman—dark and silent as the town slept soundly following its day and night of revelry. Even the guards yawned at their posts or, in some cases, snored as they slept soundly. It was an easy task for the four heavily cloaked figures to flit silently through the streets until they came to a small locked door in the city wall.

“This used to lead to some stairs that led up to the top of the wall, across it, then back down to the other side,” whispered Tasslehoff, fumbling in one of his pouches until he found his lock-picking tools.

“How do you know?” Flint muttered, peering around nervously.

“I used to come to Kalaman when I was little,” Tas said. Finding the slender piece of wire, his small, skilled hands slipped it inside the lock. “My parents brought me. We always came in and out this way.”

“Why didn’t you use the front gate, or would that have been too simple?” Flint growled.

“Hurry up!” ordered Laurana impatiently.

“We would have used the front gate,” Tas said, manipulating the wire. “Ah, there.” Removing the wire, he put it carefully back into his pouch, then quietly swung the old door open. “Where was I? Oh, yes. We would have used the front gate, but kender weren’t allowed in the city.”

“And your parents came in anyway!” Flint snorted, following Tas through the door and up a narrow flight of stone stairs. The dwarf was only half-listening to the kender. He kept his eye on Bakaris, who was, in Flint’s view, behaving himself just a bit too well. Laurana had withdrawn completely within herself. Her only words were sharp commands to hurry.

“Well, of course,” Tas said, prattling away cheerfully. “They always considered it an oversight. I mean, why should we be on the same list as goblins? Someone must have put us there accidentally. But my parents didn’t consider it polite to argue, so we just came in and out by the side door. Easier for everyone all around. Here we are. Open that door—it’s not usually locked. Oops, careful. There’s a guard. Wait until he’s gone.”

Pressing themselves against the wall, they hid in the shadows until the guard had stumbled wearily past, nearly asleep on his feet. Then they silently crossed the wall, entered another door, ran down another flight of stairs, and were outside the city walls.

They were alone. Flint, looking around, could see no sign of anybody or anything in the half-light before dawn. Shivering, he huddled in his cloak, feeling apprehension creep over him. What if Kitiara was telling the truth? What if Tanis was with her? What if he was dying?

Angrily Flint forced himself to stop thinking about that. He almost hoped it was a trap! Suddenly his mind was wrenched from its dark thoughts by a harsh voice, speaking so near that he started in terror.

“Is that you, Bakaris?”

“Yes. Good to see you again, Gakhan.”

Shaking, Flint turned to see a dark figure emerge from the shadows of the wall. It was heavily cloaked and swathed in cloth. He remembered Tas’s description of the draconian.

“Are they carrying any other weapons?” Gakhan demanded, his eyes on Flint’s battle-axe.

“No,” Laurana answered sharply.

“Search them,” Gakhan ordered Bakaris.

“You have my word of honor,” Laurana said angrily. “I am a princess of the Qualinesti—”

Bakaris took a step toward her. “Elves have their own code of honor,” he sneered. “Or so you said the night you shot me with your cursed arrow.”

Laurana’s face flushed, but she made no answer nor did she fall back before his advance.

Coming to stand in front of her, Bakaris lifted his right arm with his left hand, then let it fall. “You destroyed my career, my life.”

Laurana, holding herself rigid, watched him without moving. “I said I carry no weapons.”

“You can search me, if you like,” offered Tasslehoff, interposing himself—accidentally—between Bakaris and Laurana. “Here!” He dumped the contents of a pouch onto Bakaris’s foot.

“Damn you!” Bakaris swore, cuffing the kender on the side of the head.

“Flint!” Laurana cautioned warningly through clenched teeth. She could see the dwarf’s face red with rage. At her command, the dwarf choked back his anger.

“I’m s-sorry, truly!” Tas snuffled, fumbling around the ground after his things.

“If you delay much longer, we won’t have to alert the guard,” Laurana said coldly, determined not to tremble at the man’s foul touch. “The sun will be up and they will see us clearly.”

“The elfwoman is right, Bakaris,” Gakhan said, an edge in his reptilian voice. “Take the dwarf’s battle-axe and let’s get out of here.”

Looking at the brightening horizon—and at the cloaked and hooded draconian—Bakaris gave Laurana a vicious glance, then snatched the battle-axe away from the dwarf.

“He’s no threat! What’s an old man like him going to do, anyway?” Bakaris muttered.

“Get moving,” Gakhan ordered Laurana, ignoring Bakaris. “Head for that grove of trees. Keep hidden and don’t try alerting the guard. I am a magic-user and my spells are deadly. The Dark Lady said to bring you safely, ‘general.’ I have no instructions regarding your two friends.”

They followed Gakhan across the flat, open ground outside the city gates to a large grove of trees, keeping in the shadows as much as possible. Bakaris walked beside Laurana. Holding her head high, she resolutely refused to even acknowledge his existence. Reaching the trees, Gakhan pointed.

“Here are our mounts,” he said.

“We’re not going anywhere!” Laurana said angrily, staring at the creatures in alarm.