Dragons of Spring Dawning - Margaret Weis [125]
He was the danger. Without him Caramon and the others might still pull it off. Without him …
There was a blaring of trumpets and wild cheering from the crowd as a huge blue dragon bearing a Dragon Highlord entered the Temple gates. Seeing the Highlord, Tanis’s heart constricted with pain and, suddenly, a wild elation. The crowd surged forward roaring Kitiara’s name and, for the moment, the guards were distracted as they looked to see if the Highlord might be in danger. Tanis leaned as near Tasslehoff as he could.
“Tas!” he said swiftly, under the cover of the noise, hoping Tas remembered enough elven to understand him. “Tell Caramon to keep up the act. No matter what I do, he must trust me! Everything depends on that. No matter what I do. Understand?”
Tas stared at Tanis in astonishment, then nodded hesitantly. It had been a long time since he’d been forced to translate elven.
Tanis could only hope he understood. Caramon spoke no elven at all, and Tanis didn’t dare risk speaking Common, even if his voice was swallowed by the noise of the crowd. As it was, one of the guards wrenched his arm painfully, ordering him to be silent.
The noise died down, the crowd was bullied and shoved back into place. Seeing things under control, the guards turned to lead their prisoners away.
Suddenly Tanis stumbled and fell, tripping his guard, who sprawled headlong into the dust.
“Get up, slime!” Cursing, the other guard cuffed Tanis with the handle of a whip, striking him across the face. The half-elf lunged for the guard, grabbing the whip handle and the hand that held it. Tanis yanked with all his strength, and his sudden move sent the guard head over heels. For a split second, he was free.
Hurling himself forward, aware of the guards behind him, aware also of Caramon’s astonished face, Tanis threw himself toward the regal figure riding the blue dragon.
“Kitiara!” he yelled, just as the guards caught hold of him. “Kitiara!” he screamed, a hoarse, ragged shout that seemed torn from his chest. Fighting the guards, he managed to free one hand. With it, he gripped his helmet and tore it off his head, hurling it to the ground.
The Highlord in the night-blue, dragon-scale armor turned upon hearing her name. Tanis could see her brown eyes widen in astonishment beneath the hideous dragonmask she wore. He could see the fiery eyes of the male blue dragon turn to gaze at him as well.
“Kitiara!” Tanis shouted. Shaking off his captors with a strength born of desperation, he dove forward again. But draconians in the crowd flung themselves on him, knocking him to the ground, where they held him pinned by his arms. Still Tanis struggled, twisting to look into the eyes of the Highlord.
“Halt, Skie,” Kitiara said, placing a gloved hand commandingly on the dragon’s neck. Skie stopped obediently, his clawed feet slipping slightly on the cobblestones of the street. But the dragon’s eyes, as they glared at Tanis, were filled with jealousy and hatred.
Tanis held his breath. His heart beat painfully. His head ached and blood dribbled into one eye, but he didn’t notice. He waited for the shout that would tell him Tasslehoff hadn’t understood, that his friends had tried to come to his aid. He waited for Kitiara to look behind him and see Caramon—her half-brother—and recognize him. He didn’t dare turn around to see what had happened to his friends. He could only hope Caramon had sense enough—and faith enough in him—to keep out of sight.
And now here came the captain, his cruel one-eyed face distorted in rage. Raising a booted foot, the captain aimed a kick for Tanis’s head, preparing to render this meddlesome troublemaker unconscious.
“Stop,” said a voice.
The captain halted so suddenly that he staggered off-balance.
“Let him go.” The same voice.
Reluctantly, the guards released Tanis and fell back away from him at an imperious gesture from the Dark Lady.
“What is so important, commander, that you disrupt my