Dragonlance: Champions, Book 03 - The Great White Wyrm by Peter Archer

Author:Peter Archer [Archer, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-7869-4260-2
Publisher: Fanversion Publishing
Published: 2015-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

The disappearance of the Starfinder from the harbor at Than-Khal had to Harfang a curious unreality about it. Although he knew, from what Ayshe had managed to whisper to him during their escape from the jail, that the ship had gone, he’d clung to some hope that either the dwarf was mistaken (highly unlikely) or that Tashara had returned under cover of night to find her missing crew members.

It appeared neither of those alternatives was the case. Harfang took no part in the babble of discussion among the rest of Dragonsbane, conducted in undertones to avoid attracting the attention of the night watch. He was struck, though, with the fact that away from their ship and without a notion of where it was moored, the elves appeared to be as lost as an ant separated from its nest, doomed to scurry to and fro with no direction.

He also noticed that Barbas listened carefully to the discussion without saying a word and with a sarcastic smile on his face.

Abruptly Harfang brought the talk to an end. “Tashara would never abandon members of Dragonsbane,” he declared decisively. “When she realized there was some problem with the shore party, common sense would have dictated that she secure the ship and sail it elsewhere—near enough that we can find it or she can find us.”

Part of his mind wondered if Tashara—with Malshaunt by her side advising her—would be willing to delay the quest by even a day. The dead Feystalen’s voice whispered in his ear that common sense was hardly something he would associate with the captain of the Starfinder. But Harfang pushed those negative thoughts away.

“But suppose, sir, the ship’s been captured?” Samustalen argued.

“In that case it would still be in the harbor and we would have seen or heard our friends in jail,” the mate replied. He turned to Barbas. “See here. Were there any other elves in that prison that you know of?”

Barbas shook his head. “No. You’re right. The captain has moved the ship. Probably behind one of the little islands in the bay. They’re called the Guardians, and no one goes there. Some people round here”—his voice was scornful—“say they’re haunted, and they keep off” He gestured to where dark dots rose from the sea. “If you ask my opinion…”

“We do,” the mate grunted wearily.

“You need to get away from the town here before making any move to rejoin your captain. Go along the coast to the east. There’s a few fishing villages along there. Steal a boat; sail out to the islands. That’s where you’ll find your ship. Plenty of places to hide out there if you know what you’re doing. Hey? That captain of yours is out there somewhere.”

“You seem awfully sure of that.” Harfang’s eyes narrowed, and he stared at the dwarf.

The other shrugged. “Take my advice—or don’t take it. All the same to me. In any case, I doubt you’ll find what you’re seeking.”

Harfang’s gaze shifted in an instant from Barbas to Ayshe.

The smith dropped his eyes.

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