Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [134]
Caramon sighed. Firmly he closed his strong hands around Tika’s wrists. Firmly he drew them away from his face and pushed the girl from him.
“No,” he said, his passion choking him. Rolling over, he stood up. “No,” he repeated. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to … to let things get this far.”
“Well, I did!” Tika cried. “I’m not frightened! Not anymore.”
No, he thought, pressing his hands against his pounding head. I feel you trembling in my hands like a snared rabbit. Tika began to tie the string on her white blouse. Unable to see it through her tears, she jerked at the drawstring so viciously it snapped.
“Now! See there!” She hurled the broken silken twine across the cave. “I’ve ruined my blouse! I’ll have to mend it. They’ll all know what happened, of course! Or think they know! I—I … Oh, what’s the use!” Weeping in frustration, Tika covered her face with her hands, rocking back and forth.
“I don’t care what they think!” Caramon said, his voice echoing in the cave. He did not comfort her. He knew if he touched her again, he would yield to his passion. “Besides, they don’t think anything at all. They are our friends. They care for us—”
“I know!” Tika cried brokenly. “It’s Raistlin, isn’t it? He doesn’t approve of me. He hates me!”
“Don’t say that, Tika.” Caramon’s voice was firm. “If he did and if he were stronger, it wouldn’t matter. I wouldn’t care what anyone said or thought. The others want us to be happy. They don’t understand why we—we don’t become—er—lovers. Tanis even told me to my face I was a fool—”
“He’s right.” Tika’s voice was muffled by tear-damp hair.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
Something in Caramon’s voice made the girl quit crying. She looked up at him as Caramon turned around to face her.
“You don’t know what happened to Raist in the Towers of High Sorcery. None of you know. None of you ever will. But I know. I was there. I saw. They made me see!” Caramon shuddered, putting his hands over his face. Tika held very still. Then, looking at her again, he drew a deep breath. “They said, ‘His strength will save the world.’ What strength? Inner strength? I’m his outer strength! I—I don’t understand, but Raist said to me in the dream that we were one whole person, cursed by the gods and put into two bodies. We need each other—right now at least.” The big man’s face darkened. “Maybe someday that will change. Maybe some day he’ll find the outer strength—”
Caramon fell silent. Tika swallowed and wiped her hand across her face. “I—” she began, but Caramon cut her off.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “Let me finish. I love you, Tika, as truly as any man loves any woman in this world. I want to make love to you. If we weren’t involved in this stupid war, I’d make you mine today. This minute. But I can’t. Because if I did, it would be a commitment to you that I would dedicate my life to keeping. You must come first in all my thoughts. You deserve no less than that. But I can’t make that commitment, Tika. My first commitment is to my brother.” Tika’s tears flowed again—this time not for herself, but for him. “I must leave you free to find someone who can—”
“Caramon!” A call split the afternoon’s sweet silence. “Caramon, come quickly!” It was Tanis.
“Raistlin!” said the big man, and without another word, ran out of the cave.
Tika stood a moment, watching after him. Then, sighing, she tried to comb her damp hair into place.
“What is it?” Caramon burst into the wagon. “Raist?”
Tanis nodded, his face grave.
“I found him like this.” The half-elf drew back the curtain to the mage’s small apartment. Caramon shoved him aside.
Raistlin lay on the floor, his skin white, his breathing shallow. Blood trickled from his mouth. Kneeling down, Caramon lifted him in his arms.
“Raistlin?” he whispered. “What happened?”
“That’s what happened,” Tanis said grimly, pointing.
Caramon glanced up, his