Dragons of the Autumn Twilight - Margaret Weis [158]
“And what of the humans then?” Riverwind asked harshly. “It seems to me you throw them to the dragonarmies as a desperate man throws hunks of meat to pursuing wolves.”
“Lord Verminaard will not keep them alive much longer, we fear. The ore is nearly gone. He is gleaning every last little bit, then the slaves’ usefulness to him will end. There are valleys in the mountains, caves where the humans can live and fend off the dragonarmies. They can easily hold the mountain passes against them, especially now that winter is setting in. Admittedly, some may die, but that is a price that must be paid. If you had the choice, man of the Plains, would you rather die in slavery or die fighting?”
Riverwind, not answering, stared down at the map darkly.
“Gilthanas’s mission failed,” Tanis said, “and now you want us to try and lead the revolt?”
“Yes, Tanthalas,” the Speaker replied. “Gilthanas knows a way into Pax Tharkas—the Sla-Mori. He can lead you into the fortress. You not only have a chance to free your own kind, but you offer the elves a chance to escape”—the Speaker’s voice hardened—“a chance to live that many elves were not given when humans brought the Cataclysm down upon us!”
Riverwind glanced up, scowling. Even Sturm’s expression darkened. The Speaker drew a deep breath, then sighed. “Please forgive me,” he said. “I do not mean to flog you with whips from the past. We are not uncaring about the humans’ plight. I send my son, Gilthanas, with you willingly, knowing that—if we part—we may never see each other again. I make this sacrifice, so that my people—and yours—may live.”
“We must have time to consider,” Tanis said, though he knew what his decision must be. The Speaker nodded and elven warriors cleared a path through the crowd, leading the companions to a grove of trees. Here, they left them alone.
Tanis’s friends stood before him, their solemn faces masks of light and shadow beneath the stars. All this time, he thought, I have fought to keep us together. Now I see that we must separate. We cannot risk taking the Disks into Pax Tharkas, and Goldmoon will not leave them behind.
“I will go to Pax Tharkas,” Tanis said softly. “But I believe it is time now that we separate, my friends. Before you speak, let me say this. I would send Tika, Goldmoon, Riverwind, Caramon and Raistlin, and you, Fizban, with the elves in hopes that you may carry the Disks to safety. The Disks are too precious to risk on a raid into Pax Tharkas.”
“That may be, Half-Elf,” Raistlin whispered from the depths of his cowl, “but it is not among the Qualinesti elves that Goldmoon will find the one she seeks.”
“How do you know?” Tanis asked, startled.
“He doesn’t know anything, Tanis,” Sturm interrupted bitterly. “More talk—”
“Raistlin?” Tanis repeated, ignoring Sturm.
“You heard the knight!” the mage hissed. “I know nothing!”
Tanis sighed, letting it go, and glanced around. “You named me your leader—”
“Aye, we did, lad,” said Flint suddenly. “But this decision is coming from your head, not your heart. Deep inside, you don’t really believe we should split up.”
“Well, I’m not staying with these elves,” Tika said, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m going with you, Tanis. I plan to become a swordswoman, like Kitiara.”
Tanis winced. Hearing Kitiara’s name was like a physical blow.
“I will not hide with elves,” Riverwind said, “especially if it means leaving my kind behind to fight for me.”
“He and I are one,” Goldmoon said, putting her hand on his arm. “Besides,” she said more softly, “somehow I know that what the mage says is true—the leader is not among the elves. They want to flee the world, not fight for it.”
“We’re all going, Tanis,” Flint said firmly.
The half-elf looked helplessly around at the group, then he smiled and shook his head. “You