Weis, Margaret - Dragonlance - Chronicles 01 - Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Weis Margaret

Author:Weis, Margaret
Language: eng
Format: epub

20

The Highbulp’s map.

The spellbook of Fistandantilus.

I don't trust that little bastard any farther than I can stand the smell of

him," Caramon growled.

"I agree," Tanis said quietly. "But what choice do we have? We've agreed to

bring him the treasure. He has everything to lose and nothing to gain if he

betrays us."

They sat on the floor in the Waiting Place, a filthy antechamber outside the

throne room. The decorations in this room were just as vulgar as in the Court.

The companions were nervous and tense, speaking little and forcing themselves to

eat.

Raistlin refused food. Curled up on the floor apart from the others, he prepared

and drank down the strange herbal mixture that eased his cough. Then he wrapped

himself in his robes and stretched out, eyes closed, on the floor. Bupu sat

curled up near him, munching on something from her bag. Caramon, going over to

check on his brother, was horrified to see a tail disappear into her mouth with

a slurp.

Riverwind sat by himself. He did not take part in the hushed conversation as the

friends went over their plans once again.

The Plainsman stared moodily at the floor. When he felt a light touch on his

arm, he didn't even lift his head. Goldmoon, her face pale, knelt beside him.

She tried to speak, failed, the cleared her throat.

"We must talk," she said firmly in their language.

"Is that a command?" he asked bitterly.

She swallowed. "Yes," she answered, barely audible.

Riverwind rose to his feet and walked over to stand in front of a garish

tapestry. He did not look at Goldmoon or even speak to her. His face was drawn

into a stern mask, but underneath, Goldmoon could see the searing pain in his

soul. She gently laid her hand on his arm.

"Forgive me," she said softly.

Riverwind regarded her in astonishment. She stood before him, her head bowed, an

almost childlike shame on her face.

He reached out to stroke the silver-gold hair of the one he loved more than life

itself. He felt Goldmoon tremble at his touch and his heart ached with love.

Moving his hand from her head to her neck, he very gently and tenderly drew the

beloved head to his chest and then suddenly clasped her in his arms.

"I've never heard you say those words before," he said, smiling to himself,

knowing she could not see him.

"I have never said them," she gulped, her cheek pressed against his leather

shirt. "Oh, my beloved, I am sorrier than I can say that you came home to

Chieftain's Daughter and not Goldmoon. But I've been so afraid."

"No," he whispered, "I am the one who should ask forgiveness." He raised his

hand to wipe away her tears. "I didn't realize what you had gone through. All I

could think of was myself and the dangers I had faced. I wish you had told me,

heart's dearest."

"I wished you had asked," she replied, looking up at him earnestly. "I have been

Chieftain's Daughter so long it is the only thing I know how to be. It is my

strength. It gives me courage when I am frightened. I don't think I can let go."

"I don't want you to let go.

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