Dragonlance 10 - The Second Generation (30 page)

The warriors behind him nodded unenthusiastically, fumbling with their spears and clumsily falling into some sort of ragged battle formation. Again, Palin noticed many of them looking into the jungle with that same nervous, preoccupied expression.

"Well, we're going to take it!" Tanin shouted fiercely, apparently trying to drum up some enthusiasm for the conflict. "You'll have to fight us to stop us."

"I guess we will," mumbled the chief, hefting his spear in halfhearted fashion. Somewhat confused, Tanin and Sturm nevertheless drew their swords, as Dougan, his face grim, lifted his axe. The words to a spell chant were on Palin's lips, and the Staff of Magius seemed to tremble with eagerness in his hand. But Palin hesitated. From all he'd heard, battles weren't supposed to be like this!

Where was the hot blood? The ferocious hatred? The bitter determination to die where one stood rather than give an inch of ground?

The warriors shuffled forward, prodding each other along. Tanin closed on them, his sword flashing in the sun, Sturm at his back. Suddenly, a cry came from the jungle. There was movement and a rustling sound, more cries, and then a yelp of pain. A small figure dashed out of the trees, running headlong across the sand.

"Wait!" Palin yelled. "It's a child!"

The warriors turned at the sound. "Damn!" muttered the chief, tossing his shield and spear into the sand in disgust. The child—a little girl of about five—ran to the warrior and threw her arms around his legs. At that moment, another child, older than the first, came running out of the woods in pursuit.

"I thought I told you to keep her with you!" the chief said to the older child, a boy, who came dashing up.

"She bit me!" said the boy accusingly, exhibiting bloody marks on his arm.

"You're not going to hurt my daddy, are you?" the little girl asked Tanin, glaring at him with dark eyes.

"N—no," stuttered Tanin, taken aback. He lowered his sword. "We're just"—he shrugged, flushing scarlet—"talking. You know, man talk."

"Bless my beard!" exclaimed the dwarf in awe. More children were running from the jungle-children of all ages, from toddlers who could barely make their way across the sand to older boys and girls of about ten or eleven. The air was filled with their shrill voices.

"I'm bored. Can we go home?"

"Lemme hold the spear!"

"No, it's my turn! Dad said—"

"Apu said a bad word!"

"Did not!"

"Did so!"

"Look, Daddy! That short, fat man with the hair on his face! Isn't he ugly?" Glancing at the strangers in deep embarrassment, the warriors turned from their battle formation to argue with their children.

"Listen, Blossom, Daddy's just going to be a little longer. You go back and play—"

"Apu, take your brothers back with you and don't let me hear you using language like that or I'll—"

"No, dear, Daddy needs the spear right now. You can carry it on the way home—"

"Halt!" roared the dwarf. Dougan's thunderous shout cut through the confusion, silencing warrior and child alike.

"Look," said Tanin, sheathing his sword, his own face flushed with embarrassment, "we don't want to fight you, especially in front of your kids."

"I know," the chief said, chagrined. "It's always like that. We haven't had a good battle in two years! Have you ever"—he gave Tanin a pained look—"tried to fight with a toddler underfoot?" Profoundly perplexed, Tanin shook his head.

"Takes all the fun out of it," added another warrior as one child swarmed up his back and another bashed him in the shins with his shield.

"Leave them at home with their mothers, then, where they belong," said Dougan gruffly. The warriors' expression grew grimmer still. At the mention of their mothers, several of the children began to cry.

"We can't," stated a warrior.

"Why not?" demanded Dougan.

"Because their mothers are gone!"

"It all started two years ago," said the chief, walking with Dougan and the brothers back to the village.

"Lord Gargath sent a messenger to us, demanding ten maidens be paid him in tribute or he'd unleash the power of the Graygem." The warrior's gaze went to the volcano in the distance, its jagged top barely visible amid the shifting gray clouds that surrounded it. Forked lightning streaked from the cloud, and thunder rumbled. The chief shivered and shook his head. "What could we do? We paid him his tribute. But it didn't stop there. The next month, here came the messenger again. Ten more maidens, and more the month following. Soon, we ran out of maidens, and then the lord demanded our wives. Then he sent for our mothers! Now"—the chief sighed—"there isn't a woman left in the village!"

"All of them!" Sturm gaped. "He's taken all of them!" The chief nodded in despair, and the child in his arms wailed in grief. "And not only us. It happened to every tribe on the island. We used to be a fierce, proud people," the chief added, his dark eyes flashing.

"Our tribes were constantly at war. To win honor and glory in battle was what we lived for. To die fighting was the noblest death a man could find! Now, we lead lives of drudgery—"

"Our hands in dishwater instead of blood," said another, "mending clothes instead of cracking skulls."

"To say nothing of what else we're missing, without the women," added a third with a meaningful look.

"Well, why don't you go get them back!" Tanin demanded.

The warriors, to a man, looked at him with undisguised horror, many glancing over their shoulders at the smoking volcano, expressions of terror on their faces, as if fearing they might be overheard.

"Attack the powerful Lord Gargath?" asked the chief in what was practically a whisper. "Face the wrath of the Graygem's master? No!" He shuddered, holding his child close. "At least now our children have one parent."

"But if all the tribes fought together," Sturm argued, "that would be… how many men? Hundreds? Thousands?"

"If there were millions, we would not go up against the Master of the Graygem," said the chief.

"Well, then," said Dougan sharply, "why did you try to stop us back there on the beach? Seems to me you would be only too glad to rid yourselves of the thing!"

"Lord Gargath ordered us to fight any who tried to take it," said the chief simply. Reaching their village—a scattering of thatched huts that had seen better days—the warriors dispersed, some taking children to bed, others hurrying to look into steaming pots, still others heading for a stream with baskets loaded with clothes.

"Dougan," said Tanin, watching all this in astonishment almost too great for words, "this doesn't make any sense! What's going on?"

"The power of the Graygem, lad," said the dwarf solemnly. "They're deep under its spell and can no longer see anything rationally. I'll lay ten to one that it's the Graygem keeping them from attacking Lord Gargath. But us, now"—the dwarf looked at the brothers cunningly—"we're not under its spell."

"Not yet," mentioned Palin.

"And therefore we stand a chance of defeating him! After all, how powerful can he be?"

"Oh, he could have an army of a couple thousand men or so," said Sturm.

"No, no," said Dougan hastily. "If he did, he would have just sent the army to attack the villages, kill the men, and carry off the women. Lord Gargath is using the power of the Graygem because that's all he's got! We must act quickly, though, lads, because its power will grow on us the longer we stay near its influence."

Tanin frowned, considering. "How do we get the Graygem, then?" he asked abruptly. "And what do we do with it after we've got it? It seems to me, we'll be in worse danger than ever!"

"Ah, leave that to me!" said Dougan, rubbing his hands. "Just help me to get it, lads." Tanin kept on frowning.

"And think of the women—poor things," the dwarf continued sadly, "held in thrall by this wicked lord, forced to submit to his evil will. They'll undoubtedly be grateful to the brave men who rescue them "

"He's right," said Sturm in sudden resolve. "It is our duty, Tanin, as future Knights of Solamnia, to rescue the women."

"What do you say, Little Brother?" asked Tanin.

"It is my duty as a mage of the White Robes to help these people," Palin said, feeling extremely self-righteous. "All these people," he added.

"Plus it's a matter of honor, lad," Dougan said solemnly. "You did lose the bet. And it will be a few days before the gnomes have the ship repaired…"

"And the women will probably be very grateful!" struck in Sturm.

"All right, we'll go!" said Tanin. "Though I'd rather face a dragon than fight the power of some sort of weird rock."

"Ha, ha, dragon!" repeated the dwarf, with a sickly grin that Tanin was too preoccupied to notice. The brothers and the dwarf walked up to the chief, who was hanging laundry out to dry and keeping an anxious eye on the stew pot to see that it didn't boil over.

"Listen to me, men!" Tanin called loudly, motioning the warriors of the village to gather around him.

"My brothers and the dwarf and I are going to go to the castle of this Lord Gargath to take the Graygem. Would any of you like to come along?"

Glancing at each other, the warriors shook their heads.

"Well, then," Tanin continued in exasperation, "will any of you go with us as our guide? You can come back when we reach the castle."

Again, the warriors shook their heads.

"Then we'll go alone!" Tanin said fiercely. "And we will return with the Graygem or leave our lives in that castle!"

Spinning on his heel, the big man stalked out of the camp, his brothers and the dwarf marching behind. As they left, however, they encountered dark looks from the warriors and heard muttered comments. More than a few shook their fists at them.

"They certainly don't look pleased," Tanin said. "Especially since we're the ones facing all the danger. What is it they're saying?"

"I think it's just occurred to them that the women will probably be very grateful," Dougan answered in a low voice.

Sturm later maintained that Tanin should have realized what was going on and kept the dwarf out of the game that night. Tanin retorted that Sturm should keep his mouth shut since he slept through the whole thing. But Palin reminded them both that they were all under the influence of the Graygem at the time, so it probably wouldn't have made any difference anyway.

They had walked all day, moving easily through the thick jungle, following a trail that had obviously been there for years. The major problem was the heat, which was intense. Sturm and Tanin soon took off their armor and packed it away and finally convinced Palin to strip off his white robes, though he protested long against wandering the wilderness clad only in his undergarments.

"Look," said Tanin, finally, after Palin was on the verge of collapse, his robes dripping with sweat, "there aren't any women to see you, that much we know. Hang your spell bags around your waist. We can always get dressed again before we reach the next village." Palin reluctantly agreed and, other than taking some ribbing from Sturm about his skinny legs, was thankful he did so. The jungle grew steamier as the sun rose higher. Intermittent rain showers cooled the brothers and the dwarf occasionally, but in the end served only to increase the humidity.

Dougan, however, steadfastly refused to shed so much as his broad-brimmed hat, maintaining that the heat was nothing to a dwarf and ridiculing the humans for their weakness. This he did with perspiration streaming down his face until it dripped off the ends of his moustache. He marched along with a defiant air, as if daring one of them to say something, and often grumbled that they were slowing him down. Yet Palin saw Dougan more than once, when he thought no one was looking, slump down on a rock, fan himself with his hat, and mop his face with his beard.

By the time they arrived at the next village, which was about a day's walk through the jungle, all of them—even the dwarf—were so limp and tired that they barely had the strength to put their clothes and their armor back on in order to make an impressive show. Word of their coming must have traveled in some mysterious way (Palin thought he knew, then, the reason for the strange drumbeats they'd been hearing), for they were met by the men of the village and the children. The men regarded them coldly (though more than a few eyes flashed at the sight of the elven armor), gave them food and drink, and indicated a hut where they could spend the night. Tanin made a stirring speech about storming Gargath Castle and asked for volunteers.

The only responses were dark looks, shuffling feet, and a muttered comment, "I can't. I've got a chicken stewing."

This being no more than they had expected, the brothers stripped off their armor and their clothes and went to bed. Their night's rest was unbroken, save for slapping at some sort of winged, carnivorous insect that apparently had a craving for human flesh, and one other incident. Around midnight, Tanin was wakened by the dwarf, shaking his shoulder and loudly calling his name.

"Whasit?" mumbled Tanin sleepily, fumbling for his sword.

"Nay, lad, put your weapon away," said Dougan, hurriedly. "I just need to know something, lad. You and me and your brothers, we're comrades, aren't we?"

Tanin recalled, as well as he could recall anything, that the dwarf had seemed particularly anxious about this and had repeated the question several times.

"Yeah, comrades," Tanin muttered, rolling over.

"What's mine is yours, yours is mine?" persisted the dwarf, leaning over to look the young man in the face.

"Yeah, yeah." Tanin waved a hand, brushing away a feeding insect and the dwarf's beard at the same time.

"Thank you, lad! Thank you," said Dougan gratefully. "You won't regret it." Tanin said later that the dwarf's last words, "You won't regret it," lingered ominously in his dreams, but he was too tired to wake up and ponder the situation.

As it was, he had plenty of time for pondering the next morning when he woke to find a spear point at his throat and several tall warriors standing over him. A quick glance showed him his brothers in similar circumstances.