Dragons of the Autumn Twilight - Margaret Weis [105]
Raistlin’s lips twisted. “Remember the stars, Tanis,” he murmured. “The Queen of Darkness has returned. Recall the words of the Canticle: ‘swarm of her shrieking hosts.’ Her hosts were dragons, according to the ancient ones. She has returned and her hosts have come with her.”
“This way!” Bupu clutched at Raistlin, pointing down a street branching off to the north. “This home!”
“At least it’s dry,” Flint grumbled. Turning right, they left the river behind them. Mist closed in around the companions as they entered another nest of ruined buildings. This section of town must have been the poorer part of the city of Xak Tsaroth, even in its glory days—the buildings were in the last stages of decay and collapse. The gully dwarves began whooping and hollering as they ran down the street. Sturm looked at Tanis in alarm at the noise.
“Can’t you get them to be quieter?” Tanis asked Bupu. “So the draconians, er, bosses won’t find us.”
“Pooh!” She shrugged. “No bosses. They not come here. Afraid of the great Highbulp.”
Tanis had his doubts about that, but, glancing around, he couldn’t see any signs of the draconians. From what he had observed, the lizardlike men seemed to lead a well-ordered, militaristic life. By contrast, the streets in this part of town were cluttered with trash and filth. The disreputable buildings erupted with gully dwarves. Males, females, and dirty, ragged children stared at them curiously as they walked down the street. Bupu and the other spellbound gully dwarves swarmed around Raistlin, practically carrying him.
The draconians were undeniably smart, Tanis thought. They allowed their slaves to live their private lives in peace—so long as they didn’t stir up trouble. A good idea, considering that gully dwarves outnumbered draconians about ten to one. Though they were basically cowards, gully dwarves had a reputation as very nasty fighters when backed into a corner.
Bupu brought the group to a halt in front of one of the darkest, dingiest, filthiest alleys Tanis had ever seen. A foul mist flowed out from it. The buildings leaned over, holding each other up like drunks stumbling out of a tavern. As he watched, small dark creatures skittered out of the alley and gully dwarf children began chasing after them.
“Dinner,” shrieked one, smacking his lips.
“Those are rats!” Goldmoon cried in horror.
“Do we have to go in there?” Sturm growled, staring at the tottering buildings.
“The smell alone is enough to knock a troll dead,” Caramon added. “And I’d rather die under the dragon’s claw than have a gully dwarf hovel fall on top of me.”
Bupu gestured down the alley. “The Highbulp!” she said, pointing to the most dilapidated building on the block.
“Stay here and keep watch if you want,” Tanis told Sturm. “I’ll go talk with the Highbulp.”
“No.” The knight scowled, gesturing the half-elf into the alley. “We’re in this together.”
The alley ran several hundred feet to the east, then it twisted north and came suddenly to a dead end. Ahead of them was a decaying brick wall and no way out. Their return was blocked by gully dwarves who had run in after them.
“Ambush!” Sturm hissed and drew his sword. Caramon began to rumble deep in his throat. The gully dwarves, seeing the flash of cold steel, panicked. Falling all over themselves and each other, they whirled and fled back down the alley.
Bupu glared at Sturm and Caramon in disgust. She turned to Raistlin. “You make them stop!” she demanded, pointing to the warriors. “Or I not take to Highbulp.”
“Put your sword away, knight,” Raistlin hissed, “unless you think you’ve found a foe worthy of your attention.”
Sturm glowered at Raistlin, and for a moment Tanis thought he might attack the mage, but then the knight thrust his sword away. “I wish I knew what your game was, magician,” Sturm said coldly. “You were so eager to come to this city, even before we knew about the Disks. Why?