Dragonlance 10 - The Second Generation (44 page)

"Nothing!" he would repeat in satisfaction, surveying his clear, smooth skin. Nothing except blood. Human blood.

And because Gil feared it, he couldn't speak of it, couldn't admit it. And so he kept silent.

The silence between father and son had been built brick by brick over the years. It was now a wall not easily scaled.

"Well, aren't you going to read the letter, Father?" Gil demanded. Tanis frowned, not liking his son's insolent tone.

Gil waited for his father to reprimand him. The young man wasn't sure why, but he wanted to goad his father into losing his temper. Things would be said… things that needed to be said… But Tanis put on the patient smile he had taken to wearing around his son and removed the scroll from its case.

Gil turned his back. Stalking over to the window, he stared unseeing down on the lush and elaborately laid out garden below. He had half a mind to walk out of the room, but he wanted to hear what Caramon Majere had to say.

Gil had no use for most of the humans he'd met, those who came to visit his parents. He considered them loud, clumsy, and oafish. But Gil liked the big, jovial Caramon, liked his wide, generous smile, his boisterous laugh. Gil enjoyed hearing about Caramon's sons, particularly the exploits of the two elder boys, Sturm and Tanin, who had traveled all over most of Ansalon in search of adventure. They were now attempting to become the first men born outside of Solamnia to enter the knighthood.

Gil had never met Caramon's sons. A few years ago, after returning from some secret mission with Tanis, Caramon had offered to take Gil to visit the inn. Tanis and Laurana had refused to even consider it. Gil had been so furious that he had moped about his room for a week. Tanis unrolled the scroll and was rapidly scanning through it.

"I hope all is well with Caramon," Laurana said. She sounded anxious. She had not returned to her writing, but was watching Tanis's face as he read the message.

Gil turned. Tanis did look worried, but when he reached the end, he smiled. Then he shook his head and sighed.

"Caramon's youngest boy, Palin, has just taken and passed the Test in the Tower of High Sorcery. He is a white-robed mage now."

"Paladine save us!" Laurana exclaimed in astonishment. "I knew the young man was studying magic, but I never thought he was serious. Caramon always said it was a passing fancy."

"He always hoped it was a passing fancy," Tanis amended.

"I'm surprised Caramon permitted it."

"He didn't." Tanis handed her the scroll. "As you will read, Dalamar took the matter out of Caramon's hands."

"Why wouldn't he let Palin take the Test?" Gil asked.

"Because the Test can be fatal, for one thing," Tanis said dryly.

"But Caramon plans to let his other sons test for the knighthood," Gil argued. "That can be pretty fatal, too."

"The knighthood's different. Son. Caramon understands battle with sword and shield. He doesn't understand battle with rose petals and cobwebs."

"And then, of course, there was Raistlin," Laurana added, as if that concluded the matter.

"What has his uncle got to do with it?" Gil demanded, though he knew perfectly well what his mother meant. He was in a mood to argue these days.

"It's natural for Caramon to fear Palin would walk the same dark path as Raistlin took. Though now that seems hardly likely."

And what path do you fear I'll walk, Mother, Father? Gil wanted to shout at them. Any path? Dark or light? Any path that leads me away from this place? Someday, Mother… Someday, Father…

"May I read it?" Gil asked petulantly.

Wordlessly, his mother handed the scroll over. Gil read it slowly. He could read human script as easily as elven, but he had some trouble deciphering Caramon's gigantic, round-handed, and excited scrawl.

"Caramon says here he made a mistake. He says he should have respected Palin's decision to study magic instead of trying to force him to be something he isn't. Caramon says he's proud of Palin for passing the Test."

"Caramon says that now," Tanis returned. "He would have said something far different if his boy had died in the tower."

"At least he gave him a chance, which is more than you will me," Gil retorted. "You keep me locked up like some sort of prize bird—"

Tanis's face darkened.

Laurana intervened hastily. "Now, Gil, please don't start. It's nearly dinnertime. If you and your father will get washed up, I'll tell Cook that we're—"

"No, Mother, don't change the subject! It won't work this time!" Gil held the scroll tightly, drawing reassurance from it. "Palin's not much older than I am. And now he's off traveling with his brothers. He's seeing things, doing things! I've never been farther from home than the fence-row!"

"It's not the same, Gil, and you know it," Tanis said quietly. "Palin's human—"

"I'm part human," Gil returned with bitter accusation.

Laurana paled, lowered her eyes. Tanis was silent a moment, his lips, beneath the beard, compressed. When he spoke, it was in the infuriatingly calm tone that drove Gil to distraction.

"Yes, you and Palin are near the same age, but human children mature faster than elven children—"

"I'm not a child!"

The knot inside Gil twisted until he feared it would turn him inside out.

"And you know, mapete, that with your headaches, travel would be—" Laurana began. The knot snapped.

"Stop calling me that!" Gil shouted at her.

Laurana's eyes widened in hurt and surprise. Gil was remorseful. He hadn't meant to wound her, but he also felt a certain amount of satisfaction.

"You've called me that name since I was a baby," he continued in a low voice.

"Yes, she has." Tanis's face, beneath the beard, was dark with anger. "Because she loves you. Apologize to your mother!"

"No, Tanis," Laurana intervened. "I owe Gil the apology. He is right." She smiled faintly. "It is a silly name for a young man who is taller than I am. I am sorry, my son. I won't do it again." Gil hadn't expected this victory. He didn't quite know how to handle it. He decided to ride on, press home the advantage against a weakened opponent. "And I haven't had a headache for months now. Perhaps I'm rid of them."

"But you don't know that, Son." Tanis was trying hard to control himself. "What would happen if you fell ill while you were on the road, far from home?"

"Then I'd deal with it," Gil retorted. "I've heard you tell about times when Raistlin Majere was so sick his brother had to carry him. But that never stopped Raistlin. He was a great hero!" Tanis started to say something. Laurana gave him a warning glance, and he kept quiet.

"Where is it you want to go, Son?" she asked.

Gil hesitated. The moment had arrived. He hadn't expected the subject to come up quite this way, but it had and he knew he should take advantage of it. "My homeland. Qualinesti."

"Out of the question."

"Why, Father? Give me one good reason!"

"I could give you a dozen, but I doubt you'd understand them. For starters, Qualinesti isn't your home—"

"Tanis, please!" Laurana turned to Gil. "What put this idea into your head, mapet—Son?"

"I received an invitation, a very handsome invitation, very proper and fitting to my station as an elven prince." Gil emphasized the words.

His mother and father exchanged alarmed glances. Gil ignored them and continued on. "The invitation is from one of the senators of the Thalas-Enthia. The people are having some type of celebration to welcome Uncle Porthios back from Silvanesti, and this senator thinks I should be in attendance. He says my absence from formal occasions like this has been noticed. People are starting to say that I am ashamed of my elven heritage."

"How dare they do this?" Tanis spoke with barely concealed fury. "How dare they interfere? Who is this senator? The meddling ass. I'll—"

"Tanthalas, listen to me." Laurana called him by his full elven name only when the matter was serious. "There's more to it than that, I fear."

She drew near him; they spoke together in an undertone.

Whispering. Always the whispers. Gil tried to look as if he hadn't the slightest interest in what they were saying, though he listened closely. He caught the words "political" and "move cautiously" but nothing more.

"This does concern me, you know, Father," Gil stated abruptly. "You weren't invited."

"Don't speak to me in that tone, young man!"

"Gil, dear, this is a very serious matter," Laurana said, using a soothing note to her son, laying a soothing hand on her husband's arm. "When did you receive this invitation?"

"A day or two ago, when you were both in Palanthas. If you'd been home, you would have known about it." Again, the two looked at each other.

"I wish you'd told us earlier. What reply did you send?" His mother was clearly nervous, her hands twisted together. His father was furious, but Tanis kept silent. He was being forced to keep silent. Gil knew himself suddenly, for the first time in his life, in control. It was a good feeling that eased the tight knot in his stomach.

"I haven't sent my answer," he said coolly. "I know this is political. I know this is serious. I waited to talk the matter over with you both."

He had the satisfaction of seeing his parents look ashamed. Again, they had underestimated him.

"You did right, Son. I'm sorry we misjudged you." Tanis sighed and scratched his bearded chin in frustration. "More than that, I'm sorry you had to be dragged into this. But I guess I should have expected it."

"We both should have," Laurana added. "We should have prepared you, Gil." Her voice dropped. She was talking to Tanis again. "It's just that I never thought… He's part human, after all. I didn't suppose they would…"

"Of course, they would. It's obvious to me what they're after…"

"What?" Gil demanded loudly. "What are they after?" Tanis didn't seem to hear him, for he continued to talk to Laurana. "I had hoped he would be spared this, that he wouldn't have to go through what you and I did. And if I have anything to say about it, he won't."

He turned to Gil. "Bring us the invitation, Son. Your mother will frame the proper refusal."

"And that's it," Gil said, glaring from one to the other. "You won't let me go."

"Son, you don't understand—" Tanis began, his temper starting to flare.

"You're damn right I don't understand! I—" Gil paused.

Of course. It was all so simple, really. But he had to be careful. He mustn't give himself away. He'd stopped talking in mid-sentence—a stupid move. They might suspect. How to cover it? Diplomacy, learned from his mother.

"I'm sorry for yelling, Father," Gil said contritely. "I know you have only my best interests at heart. It was foolish of me to want to go—to visit my mother's homeland."

"Someday, Son," Tanis said, scratching his beard. "When you're older…"

"Certainly, Father. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have my studies to attend to." Turning, Gil walked out of the room with dignity. He shut the door behind him.

Pausing outside the door, he listened.

"We've known this was coming," his mother was saying. "It's only right he should want to go."

"Yes, and how will he feel when he sees the hate-filled glances, the curled lips, the subtle insults…"

"Maybe that won't happen, Tanis. The elves have changed."

"Have they, dearest?" Tanis asked her sadly. "Have they really?" Laurana made no response, at least not one that Gil could hear.

He wavered in his decision. They were only trying to protect him, after all. Protect him! Yes, just as Caramon had tried to protect Palin. He had taken the Test and passed. He'd proven his worth—both to his father and to himself.

Resolve hardened, Gil ran down the hall, took the stairs to his room two at a time. Once inside, he closed and locked the door. He had kept the invitation hidden in a golden filigree box. Reading the invitation again, Gil scanned the lines until he found what he was searching for.

I will be staying at the Back Swan, an inn that is about a day's ride from your parents' house. If you would care to meet me there, we could journey to Qualinesti together. Let me assure you, Prince Gilthas, I would be honored by your company and most pleased to introduce you into the very highest levels of elven society.

Your servant, Rashas of the House of Aronthulas.

The man's name meant nothing to Gil, wasn't important anyway. He dropped the invitation and gazed out his window, down the road that led south.

To the Black Swan.

Wrapped in his cloak, Tanis Half-Elven was lying on the hard, cold ground. He was sleeping deeply, peacefully. But Caramon's hand was on his shoulder, shaking him. Tanis, we need you! Tanis, wake up!

Go away, Tanis told him, rolling over, hunching himself into a ball. I don't want to wake up. I'm tired of it all, so very tired. Why can't you leave me alone? Let me sleep.

"Tanis!"

He woke with a start. He'd slept longer than usual, longer than he'd intended. But his sleep had not been restful, had left him feeling heavy-limbed, fuzzy-brained. He blinked. Looking up, he half expected to see Caramon. He saw Laurana. "Gil's gone," she said.

Tanis struggled to shake off the dream, the heaviness. "Gone?" he repeated stupidly. "Where?"

"I don't know for certain, but I think—" Her voice broke. Wordlessly, she held out to Tanis a sheet of gold leaf paper. Rubbing his eyes, Tanis leveraged himself to a sitting position. Laurana slid onto the bed beside him and put her arm around his shoulder. He read the invitation. "Where did you find this?"

"In… in his room. I didn't mean to snoop. It was just… He didn't come down to breakfast. I thought he might be ill. I went to check." Her head drooped, and tears slid down her cheeks. "His bed wasn't slept in. His clothes are gone. And this… this… was on the floor… by the window…" She broke down. After a moment's silent struggle, she regained control of herself. "I went to the stable. His horse is gone, too. The groom didn't hear or see anything—"

"Old Hastings is deaf as a post. He wouldn't have heard the Cataclysm. Caramon tried to warn me this would happen. I didn't listen." Tanis sighed. Subconsciously, he'd listened. That was what the dream meant. Let me sleep…