Dwarven Nations - Hammer And Axe Part 41

Out of the light came two hands! He had a desperate urge to withdraw his own, but before he could move, flue two hands grasped his in a grip both strong and firm. The orb vanished! The room vanished! Raistlin saw nothing around trim No light. No darkness. Nothing? Nothing. . .but two hands, balding his. Out of sheer terror, Raistlin concentrated on those hands.

Human? Elven? Old? Young'' He could not tell. The fingers, were long and slender, but their grip was the grip of death. Let go and he would fall into the void to drift until merciful dark ness consumed him. Even as he clung to those hands with F strength lent him by ?ear, Raistlin realized the hands were slowly drawing, him nearer, drawing him into . . . into....

Raistlin came to himself suddenly, as i someone had dashed cold water in his face. No! he told the mind that he sensed con* trolled the hands. I will not go!

Though he feared losing t ha saving grip, he feared even more being dragged where he did not want to go. He would not let loose. I will maintain control he told the mind of the hands savagely. Tightening, has own grip, the mage summoned &I of his strength, all of his will, and pulled flue hands toward him!

The hands stopped. Fair a moment, the two wills vied THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT.

together, locked in a life-or-death contest, Raistlin felt the strength ebb from his body, his hands weakened, the palms began to sweat. He felt the hands of the orb begin to pull him again; ever so slightly. In agony, Raistlin summoned every drop of blood, focused every nerve, sacrificed every muscle in his frail body to regaining control.

Slowly . . . slowly . . , just when he thought his pounding heart would burst from his chest or his brain explode in fireRaistlin felt the hands cease their tug. They still maintained their firm grip on him-as he maintained his firm grip on them. But the two were no longer in contest. His hands and the hands of the dragon orb remained locked together, each conceding respect, neither seeking dominance.

The ecstasy of the victory; the ecstasy of the magic flowed through Raistlin and burst forth, wrapping him in a warm, golden light. His body relaxed. Trembling, he felt the hands hold him gently, support him, lend him strength.

What are you' he questioned silently. Are you good? Evil?

I am neither. I am nothing. I am everything. The essence of dragons captured long ago is what I am.

How do you work? Raistlin asked. How do you control the dragons?

At your command, I will call them to me. They cannot resist my call. They -fill obey.

Will they turn upon their masters? Will they fall under my c command?

That depends on the strength of the master and the bond between the two. In some instances, this is so strong that the master can maintain control of the dragon. But most will do what you ask of them. They cannot help themselves.

I rust study this, Raistlin murmured, feeling himself growing weaker. I d*5 not understand . . . .

,Be easy. I will aid you. Now that we have joined, you may seek my help often. I knows.. of many secrets long forgotten. They can be yours.

What secrets' . . . Raistlin felt himself losing consciousness. The strain had been too much. He struggled to keep his hold on the hands, but he felt his grip slipping.

The hands held onto him gently, as a mother holds a child. relax: I will not let you fall. Sleep. You are weary.

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Tell me! I must know! Raistlin cried silently.

This only I will tell you, then you must rest. In the library of Astinus of Palanthas are books, hundreds of books, taken there by the mages of old in the days of the Lost Battle. To aI! who look at these books, they seem nothing more than encyclopedias of magic, dull histories of mages who died in the taverns of time.

Raistlin saw darkness creeping toward him. He clutched at the hands.

What do the books really contain? he whispered.

Then he knew, and with the knowledge, darkness crashed over him like the wave of an ocean.

In a cave near the wagon, hidden by shadows, warmed by the heat of their pa.s.sion, 'Tika and Caramon lay in each other's arms.. Tika's red hair clung around her face and forehead in tight curls, her eyes were closed, her full lips parted. Her raft r body clad in her gaily-colored skirt and puffy-sleeved white ' blouse pressed against Caramon. Her legs twined around his, her hand caressed his face, her lips brushed his.

"Please, Caramon;' she whispered. "This is torture. We want each other. I'm not afraid. Please love me!"

Caramon closed his eyes. His face shone with sweat. Thepain of his love seemed impossible to bear. He could end it, end it all in sweet ecstasy. For a moment he hesitated. Tika's fro . grant hair was in his nostrils, her soft lips on his neck. It would; be so easy. . . so wonderful....

Caramon sighed. Firmly he closed his strong hands around: Tika's wrists. Firmly he drew them away from his face pushed the girl from him.

"No;" he said, his pa.s.sion choking him. (?oiling over, he stood up. "No;' he repeated. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . , t let things get this far:"

"Well, I did!" Tika cried. "I'm not frightened! Not anymore.: No, he thought, pressing his hands against his poun ' head. I feel you trembling in my hands like a snared rabbit.

Tika began to tie the string an her white blouse. Unable see it through her tears, she jerked at the drawstring viciously it snapped.

"Now! See there!" She hurled the broken silken twine act THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT.

the cave. "I've ruined my blouse! I'll have to mend it. They'll all know what happened, of course! Or think they know! I-I . . . Oh, what's the use!" Weeping in frustration, Tika covered her face with her hands, rocking back and forth.

"I don't care what they think!" Caramon said, his voice echoing in the cave. He did not comfort her. He knew if he touched her again, he would yield to his pa.s.sion. "Besides, they don't think anything at all. They are our friends. They care for us-"

I know!" Tika cried brokenly. "It's Raistlin, isn't it? He doesn't approve of me. He hates me!"

"Don't say that, Tika." Caramon's voice was firm. "If he did and if he were stronger, it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't care what anyone said or thought. The others want us to be happy. They don't understand why we-we don't become- erlovers. Tanis even told me to my face I was a fool-'

"He's right:" Tika's voice was m.u.f.fled by tear-damp hair.

"Maybe. Maybe not:'

Something in Caramon's voice made the girl quit crying. She looked up at him as Caramon turned around to .face her.

"You don't know what happened to Raist in the Towers of High Sorcery. None of you know. None of you ever will. But I know. I was there. I saw. They made me see!" Caramon shuddered, putting his hands over his face. Tika held very still.

Then, looking at :vet again he drew a deep breath. "They said, 'his strength, will save the world.' What strength? Inner strength? I'm his outer strength! I-I don't understand, but Raist said to me in the dream that we were one whole person, cursed by the gads and put into two bodies. 4"k need each otherright now at least." The big man's face darkened. "Maybe some day that will change. Maybe some day he'll fend the outer strength-"

Caravan fell silent. Tika swallowed and wiped her hand across her face. ''T-'

she began, but Caramon cut her off.

"Wait a minute;" he sand. "Let me finish. I love you, Tika, as truly as any mar, loves any woman in this world. I want to make love to you. If we weren't involved in this stupid war, I'd make you mine today. This minute. But I .can't.

Because if I dud, it ~Yculd be a commitment to you that I would dedicate my life to keeping. You must come first in all my thoughts. You deserve no less than that. Bud I can't make that commitment, Tika. My First commitment is to my brother." Tika's tears flowed againthis time not for herself, but for him. "I musk leave you free to find someone who can-"

"Caramon!" A call split the afternoon's sweet silence. "Cararnon, come quickly!"

It was Tanis.

"Raistlin!" said the big man and, without another word, ran out of the cave.

Tika stood a moment, watching after him. Then, sighing, she tried to comb her damp hair into place. "Whale is it?" Cararnon burst into the wagon. "Raist?"

Tanis nodded, his face grave.

"I found him like this." The half-elf drew back the curtain to the mages small apartment. Caramon shoved him aside.

Raistlin lay on the floor, his skin white, his breathing shallow. Blood trickled from his mouth. Kneeling dawn, Caramon lifted him in his arms.

"Raistlin?" he whispered. "What happened?"

That's what happened;' Tanis said grimly, pointing.

Caramon glanced up, his gaze coming to rest on the dragon orb -now grown to the size Caramon had seen in Silvanesti. It stand an the stand Raistlin had made for it, its swirling colors shifting endlessly as he watched. Caramon sucked in his breath. in horror. Terrible visions of Lorac flooded his mind. Lorac insane, dying ...

"Twist!" he moaned, clutching his brother tightly.

Raistlin's head mowed feebly. His eyelids fluttered, and he. opened his mouth.

"What?" Caramon bent law, his brother's breath cold upon his skin. "'What?"

"Mule . . . ."Raistlin whispered. "Spells . . . of the ancients mine . . .

.Mine. . . :"

The mage's head lolled his wards died. But his face calm, placid, relaxed, His breathing drew regular.

Raistlin's thin lips parted in a smile.

Yuletide guests.

.t took Lord Gunthar several W.. Name in time for Yule (allowing days of hard riding to reach +++++ for Palanthas. The reads were se foundered mare than once, .and se nearly as -well as his sans, walked he time he returned to his castle, therefore, he was exhausted, drenched, and shivering. The sta arge of the horse personally.

"Rub him do-wn well:' Gunther said, dismounting stiffly proceeded with his instructions, the sta

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bleman nodding patiently, as if he'd never cared for a horse before in his life.

Gunthar was, in fact, on the point of walking his horse to the stables himself when his ancient retainer came out in search of him.

"My lord:" Wills drew Gunthar to one side in the entryway. "You have visitors.

They arrived just a few hours ago:"

'Who?" Gunthar asked without much interest, visitors being nothing new, especially during Yule. "Lord Michael? He could not travel with us, but I asked him to stop on his way home-"

"An old man, my lord;' Wills interrupted, "and a kender"

"A kender?" Gunthar repeated in some alarm.

"I'm afraid so, my lord. But don't worry;" the retainer added hastily. "I've locked the silver in a drawer, and your ladywife has taken her jewelry to the cellar:'

"You'd think we were under siege!" Gunthar snorted. He did, however, go through the courtyard faster than usual.

"You can't be too careful around those critters, my lord;' Wills mumbled, trotting along behind. "What are these two, then? Beggars? Why did you let them in?" Gunthar demanded, beginning to get irritated. All he wanted was his mulled wine, warm clothes, and one of his wife's backrubs. "Give them some food and money, and send them on their way. Search the kender first, of course:'

"I was going to, my lord;" Wills said stubbornly. "But there's something about them-the old man in particular. He's crackers, if you ask me, but he's a smart crackers, for all that. Knows something, and it may be more than's good far him- or us either:'

"What do you mean?"

The two had just opened the huge, wooden doors leading into the living quarters of the castle proper. Gunthar slopped and stared at Wills, knowing and respecting his retainer's keen power of observation. Will= glanced around, then leaned close.

"The old man said I was to tell you he had urgent news regarding the dragon orb, my lard!"

"The dragon orb!" Gunthar murmured. The orb was secret, or he presumed it was. The Knights knew of it, of course. Had Derek told anyone else? Was this one of has maneuvers?

"You acted wisely, Wills, as always:' Gunthar said finally.

"Where are they?"

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT.

"I put them in your war room, my lord, figuring they could cause little mischief there:'

"I'll change clothes before I catch my death, then see them directly. Have you made them comfortable?"

"Yes, my lard;' Wills replied, hurrying after Gunthar, who was on the move again. "Hot wine, a bit of bread and meat. Though I mistrust the kender's lifted the plates by now-'

Gunthar and Wills stood outside the door of the war room for a moment, eavesdropping on the visitors" conversation.

"Put that back!" ordered a stern voice.

"I won't! It's mine! Look, it was in my pouch:'

"Bah! I saw you put it there not five minutes ago!"

"Well, you're wrong;" protested the other voice in wounded tones. "It's mine!

See, there's my name engraved-"

"'Ta Gunthar, my beloved husband an the Day of Life-Gift,"' said the first voice.

There was a moment's silence in the room. Wills turned pale. Then the shrill voice spoke, more subdued this time.