Dragonlance 12 - Raistlin Chronicles - Soulforge (41 page)

He confessed as much to Raistlin. "I start to do one thing, and then I think of another and I drop the first and move to the second, only to recall that I simply must do a third before either of them, so I leave to attend to that, only to recall that the first had to be done in ad vance...." He sighed. "I'm not getting along very fast."

He gazed sadly at the upheaval that surrounded him—overturned pots, mounds of dirt, holes where plants had been uprooted. The plants themselves, looking forlorn and naked, lying on the ground with their roots shivering.

"I suppose it's because I've never been anywhere else but here. And I don't want to be anywhere else. To tell you the truth, I haven't even decided yet where I'm going. Do you think I would like Solace?"

"Perhaps you won't have to move after all," Raistlin said, unable to witness Lemuel's suffering without making some attempt to alleviate it. He couldn't tell his intent, but he could hint. "Perhaps something will happen that will cause Belzor's faithful to leave you alone."

"A second Cataclysm? Fiery mountains raining down on their heads?" Lemuel smiled wanly.

"That's too much to hope for, but thank you for the thought. Did you find what you were looking for?"

"My studies went well," said Raistlin gravely.

"And will you stay for supper?"

"No thank you, sir. I must return to the fairgrounds. My friends will be concerned about me. And please, sir," Raistlin said by way of farewell, "do not give up hope. I have a feeling you will be here long after Belzor has gone."

Lemuel was considerably astonished at this and would have asked more questions had not Raistlin pointed out that the tulip bulbs were in danger of being carried away by a squirrel. Lemuel dashed off to the rescue. Raistlin checked for the twentieth time to make certain the scroll case hung from his belt, took his grateful leave, and departed.

"I wonder what he's up to…" Lemuel mused. Having chased off the thief, he watched Raistlin walk up the road in the direction of the fairgrounds. "He wasn't copying out any sleep spell, that's for certain. I may not be much of a mage, but even I could pull off a snooze without writing it down.

No, he was copying something far more advanced, well beyond his novitiate rank. And all that about something happening to the Belzorites…"

Lemuel chewed worriedly on a sprig of mint. "I suppose I should try to stop him…" He considered this option, shook his head. "No. It would be like trying to stop a gnomish juggernaut once it's in gear and rolling downhill. He would not listen to me, and of course there's no reason why he should.

What do I know? And he might have a chance of succeeding. There's a lot going on behind those fox-fire eyes of his. A lot going on."

Muttering to himself, Lemuel started to return to his digging. He stood a moment, holding the trowel and staring down at his once tranquil garden, now in a state of chaos.

"Perhaps I should just wait and see what tomorrow brings," he said to himself, and after covering the roots of the plants he had already dug up, making certain that they were warm and damp, he went inside to eat his supper.

*****

Raistlin arrived back at the fairgrounds just in time to prevent Caramon from turning out the town guard in search of him. "I was busy," he replied testily, in response to his brother's persistent questioning. "Have you done as I ordered?"

"Kept hold of Tasslehoff?" Caramon heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Yes, between Sturm and me, we've managed, but I never want to have to go through anything like that again so long as I live. We had him occupied this morning, or at least we thought we did. Sturm said he wanted to look at Tas's maps. Tas dumped them all out, and he and Sturm spent an hour going over them. I guess I must have dozed off. Sturm got interested in looking at a map of Solamnia, and by the time I woke up and we realized what was what, the kender was gone."

Raistlin frowned.

"We went after him," Caramon said hurriedly. "And we caught up with him. Luckily he hadn't gone far—the fair is pretty interesting, you know. We found him, and after we took the monkey back to its owner, who'd been searching high and low for it… The monkey does tricks. You should see it, Raist. It's real cute. Anyway, the owner was hopping mad, although Tas said over and over that the monkey had accompanied him voluntarily, and the monkey did seem to like him—"

"Kindred spirits," observed Raistlin.

"—so by this time, the monkey's owner was yelling for the town guard. Tanis showed up about then, and we made off with Tas while Tanis explained it had all been a mistake and settled with the owner for a couple of steel for his trouble. Sturm decided then that a little military discipline was what was called for, so we took Tas to the parade ground and marched up and down for an hour. Tas thought that was great fun and would have kept it up, but due to the hot sun and the fact that we'd forgotten to bring any water, Sturm and I had to call it quits. We were about done in. The kender, of course, was feeling fine.

"We no more than got back to the fairgrounds when he sees some woman swallowing fire—she really did, Raist. I saw it, too. Tas runs off and we chase after him, and by the time we caught up, he'd lifted two pouches and a sugar bun and was just about to try putting hot coals into his mouth.

We took the coals away and returned the pouches, but the sugar bun was gone except for some crumbs around Tas's lips. And then—"

Raistlin held up his hand. "Just answer me this: Where is Tasslehoff now?"

"Tied up," said Caramon wearily. "In the back of Flint's booth. Sturm's standing guard over him. It was the only way."

"Excellent, my brother," said Raistlin.

"Absolute hell," Caramon muttered.

Flint was doing quite well for himself at the fair. People crowded into his stall, kept the dwarf busy pulling rings from the cases and lacing on bracers. He had taken in a goodly quantity of steel, which he kept in a locked iron money box, as well as many items taken in trade. Bartering was an accepted practice at the fair, especially among the vendors. Flint had acquired a new butter churn (which he would trade to Otik for brandy), a washtub (his had sprung a leak), and a very fine tooled-leather belt. (His current belt was a tad too small. Flint claimed it had shrunk when he fell into Crystalmir Lake. Tanis said no, the belt was fine. It was the dwarf who had expanded.) Raistlin avoided the crowd in the front of the booth, entered the back to find the kender tied securely to a chair, with Sturm seated in a chair opposite. If one were to judge by the expressions on the faces of the two, one might have guessed that Sturm was the prisoner. Tasslehoff, quite enjoying the novelty of being tied hand and foot, was passing the time by entertaining Sturm.

"—and then Uncle Trapspringer said, 'Are you sure that's your walrus?' And the barbarian said—

Oh, hello, Raistlin! Look at me! I'm tied to a chair. Isn't this exciting? I'll bet Sturm would tie you up if you asked him politely. Would you, Sturm? Would you tie up Raistlin?"

"What happened to the gag?" Caramon asked.

"Tanis made me take it off. He said it was cruel. He doesn't know the meaning of the word," Sturm replied. He eyed Raistlin grimly, as though he would have liked to take the kender up on his offer. "I trust this will be worth it. I doubt now that anything short of the return of the entire pantheon of gods to denounce Belzor would be sufficient to recompense us for the day we've spent."

"Something less than that, perhaps, but just as effective," Raistlin replied. "Where is Kitiara?"

"She went off to look around the fairgrounds, but she promised she'd be back in time." Caramon quirked an eyebrow. "She said the atmosphere was too cold for comfort, if you take my meaning."

Raistlin nodded in understanding. She and Tanis had quarreled last night, a quarrel that had probably been overheard by most of the vendors and perhaps half the town of Haven. Tanis had kept his voice low; no one could hear what he was saying, but Kit had no such scruples.

"What do you take me for? One of your namby-pamby little elf maids who has to be clinging to you every second? I go where I please, when I please, and with whom I please. To tell you the truth, no, I didn't want you along. You can be such an old man sometimes, always trying to spoil my fun."

The quarrel had gone on long into the night.

"Did they make up this morning?" Raistlin asked his brother, glancing at Tanis's back. The half-elf stood behind the booth, counting money, answering questions, taking measurements, and noting down special orders.

"Silver and amethyst, if you please," a noble lady was dictating. "And a pair of earrings to match."

"No, not a chance," Caramon replied. "You know Kit. She was ready to kiss and make up, but Tanis…"

As if aware that they were talking of him, Tanis turned from dropping another three steel into the money box.

"Are you still planning to go through with this?" he asked.

"I am," Raistlin said.

Tanis shook his head. He had gray smudges beneath his eyes and looked tired. "I don't like it."

"No one asked you to," Raistlin returned.

An uncomfortable silence fell. Caramon flushed and bit his lip, embarrassed for his brother, yet too loyal to say anything. Sturm gave Raistlin a look of haughty disapproval, reminded Raistlin silently that he was not to be disrespectful to his elders. Tas was going to tell another Uncle Trapspringer story, but he couldn't think of one that seemed to fit, and so he kept quiet, wiggled unhappily in his chair. The kender would have run cheerfully into a dragon's open mouth and never turned a hair on his topknot, but anger among his friends always made him feel very uncomfortable.

"You are right, Raistlin. No one did ask me," Tanis said. He started to turn away, to go back to the front of the booth.

"Tanis," Raistlin called out. "I'm sorry. I had no right to speak to you—my elder—in that manner, as the knight here would remind me. I can offer as my excuse only that I have an extremely difficult task ahead of me tonight. And I remind you and everyone here"—his gaze swept them all—"that if I fail, I will be the one to pay the penalty. None of the rest of you will be implicated."

"And yet I wonder if you realize the enormous risk you're running," Tanis said earnestly. "This false religion is making Judith and her followers wealthy. By exposing her, you may be putting yourself into considerable danger. I think you should reconsider. Let others deal with her."

"Aye," said Flint, coming back behind the booth to bring more money for the iron box. He had overheard the latter part of the conversation. "If you'll take my advice, laddie, which you never do, I say we keep our noses out of this. I was thinking on this last night, and after what you told me about the people tormenting that poor lass who lost her babe, it is my opinion that the humans of Haven and Belzor deserve each other."

"You can't be serious, sir!" Sturm protested, shocked. "According to the Measure, if a person has knowledge of a law being broken and that person does nothing to halt it, then that person is as guilty as the lawbreaker. We should do everything in our power to stop this false priestess."

"We do that by reporting her to the proper authorities," Tanis argued.

"Who won't believe us," Caramon pointed out.

"I think—"

"Enough! I have made my decision!" Raistlin put an end to the arguments, which were making him doubt himself, undermining his carefully built fortifications. "I will go ahead with the plan. Those who want to help me can do so. Those who don't may go about their business."

"I will help," said Sturm.

"Me, too," Caramon replied loyally.

"And me! I'm the key!" Tas would have jumped up and down, except he found that jumping was difficult when it involved bringing along the chair to which he was tied. "Don't be mad, Tanis. It will be fun!"

"I'm not mad," Tanis said, his weary face relaxing into a smile. "I'm pleased that you young men are willing to risk danger for a cause you think is right. I trust that is why you're doing this," he said, with a pointed glance at Raistlin.

Never mind my motives, Raistlin advised the half-elf silently. You wouldn't understand them. So long as I achieve an outcome that pleases you and is beneficial to others, what do you care why I do what I do?

Annoyed, he was turning away when Kitiara strolled through the door of the stall. Elbowing aside several customers, who glared at her resentfully, she made her way behind the counter.

"I see we're all here. Ready to go feed Judith to the snakes?" she asked, grinning. "I'm among the chosen, by the way, baby brother. I've asked to speak to our dead mother, and the High Priestess has kindly granted my request."

This was not part of the plan. Raistlin had no idea what Kit was up to, but before he could question her, she draped her arm around Tanis, ran her hand caressingly over his shoulder. "Are you coming along to help us tonight, my love?"

Tanis pulled away from her touch.

"The fairgrounds don't shut down until dark," he said. "I have work to do here."

Kit drew close, nibbled at his ear. "Is Tanis still mad at Kitiara?" she asked in a playful tone.

He gently shoved Kit away. "Not here," he said, adding in a low voice, "We have a lot of things to talk over, Kit."

"Oh, for the love of— Talk! That's all you ever want to do!" Kit flared. "All last night, talk, talk, talk. So I told you a harmless little lie! It wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last. I'm sure you've lied to me plenty!"

Tanis paled. "You don't mean that," he said quietly.

"No, of course I don't. I say things I don't mean all the time. I'm a liar. Just ask anyone."

Kit strode angrily around the counter, giving Caramon a kick when he didn't move out of her way fast enough to suit her. "Are the rest of you coming?"

"Untie the kender," Raistlin ordered. "Sturm, you're in charge of Tas. And you, Tas"—he fixed the kender with a stem eye—"you must do exactly as I say. If you don't, you might be the one fed to the vipers."

"Ooh, how excit—" Tas saw by Raistlin's swiftly contracting brows that this was not the right response. The kender was suddenly extremely solemn. "I mean, yes, Raistlin. I'll do whatever you tell me to do. I won't even look at a snake unless you say to," he added with what he considered truly heroic self-sacrifice.