The Soulforge (The Raistlin Chronicles Book 1) by Margaret Weis

Author:Margaret Weis [Weis, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786954544
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2011-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

“Flint, you have an influx of runes!” Tasslehoff cried excitedly, racing through the door, which he had neglected to shut on his way out and which the dwarf, in his misery, could not manage to reach.

Flint had scarcely moved from the place where the kender had left him. He was bent almost double, his beard brushing the floor. Any attempt to straighten brought beads of sweat to his forehead and gasps of agony to his lips. His boots remained unlaced. He stood hunched over, alternately swearing and groaning.

“Runes?” the dwarf yelled. “What has this got to do with runes?”

“Rheum,” Raistlin clarified. “An inflammation of the joints caused by prolonged exposure to cold or dampness.”

“I knew it! That damn boat!” Flint said with bitter triumph. “I say it again: I’ll never set foot in one of those foul contraptions again so long as I live, I swear it, Reorx.” He would have stamped his foot upon the vow, this being considered proper among dwarves, but the movement caused him to cry out in pain and clutch the back of his left leg.

“I’ve got my wares to sell this summer. How am I supposed to travel like this?” he demanded irritably.

“You’re not traveling,” said Raistlin. “You are going back to bed, and you’re going to stay there until the muscles relax. You’re all knotted up. This oil will ease the pain. I’ll need your help, Tas. Lift his shirt.”

“No! Stay away from me! Don’t touch me!”

“We’re only trying to help you to—”

“What’s that smell? Oil of what? Pine tree! You’re not going to feed me any tree juice!”

“I’m going to rub it on you.”

“I won’t have it, I tell you! Ouch! Ouch! Get away! I have the poker!”

“Tas, go fetch Tanis,” Raistlin ordered, seeing that his patient was going to be difficult.

Although he was extremely sorry to leave in the midst of such excitement, the kender ran off to deliver his message. Tanis returned in haste, alarmed by Tasslehoff’s somewhat confused account that Flint had been attacked by runes, which Raistlin was trying to cure by making him swallow pine needles.

Raistlin explained the situation in more detailed and coherent terms. Tanis concurred in both the diagnosis and the treatment. Overriding the dwarf’s vehement protests (first forcibly removing the poker from his hand), they rubbed the oil into his skin, massaged the muscles of his legs and arms until he was finally able to straighten his back enough to lie down.

Flint maintained the entire time that he was not going to bed. He was setting out on his summer travels to sell his wares. There was nothing any of them could do to stop him. He kept this up as Tanis helped him hobble to the bed, kept it up though he had to compress his lips against the pain that he said was like a goblin’s poison dagger stuck in the back of his leg. He kept it up until Raistlin told Tas to run to the inn and ask Otik for a jug of brandy.

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