Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [137]
“Three mugs, here, my lord. And one on the mantle makes four. And there better be four when I come back!”
He walked out, shutting the door with a thud.
“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Tas promised solemnly. “Do you have a problem with people stealing mugs?” he asked Gunthar.
“I—no.… Dead?” Gunthar felt he was rapidly losing his grip on the situation.
“It’s a long story,” said Fizban, downing the liquid in one swallow. He wiped the foam from his lips with the tip of his beard. “Ah, excellent. Now, where was I?”
“Dead,” said Tas helpfully.
“Ah, yes. A long story. Too long for now. Must get the orb. Where is it?”
Gunthar stood up angrily, intending to order this strange old man and this kender from his chamber and his castle. He was going to call his guards to extract them. But, instead, he found himself caught by the old man’s intense gaze.
The Knights of Solamnia have always feared magic. Though they had not taken part in the destruction of the Towers of High Sorcery—that would have been against the Measure—they had not been sorry to see magic-users driven from Palanthas.
“Why do you want to know?” Gunthar faltered, feeling a cold fear seep into his blood as he felt the old man’s strange power engulf him. Slowly, reluctantly, Gunthar sat back down.
Fizban’s eyes glittered. “I keep my own counsel,” he said softly. “Let it be enough for you to know that I have come seeking the orb. It was made by magic-users, long ago! I know of it. I know a great deal about it.”
Gunthar hesitated, wrestling with himself. After all, there were knights guarding the orb, and if this old man really did know something about it, what harm could there be in telling him where it was? Besides, he really didn’t feel like he had any choice in the matter.
Fizban absently picked up his empty mug again and started to drink. He peered inside it mournfully as Gunthar answered.
“The dragon orb is with the gnomes.”
Fizban dropped his mug with a crash. It broke into a hundred pieces that went skittering across the wooden floor.
“There, what’d I tell you?” Tas said sadly, eyeing the shattered mug.
The gnomes had lived in Mount Nevermind for as long as they could remember—and since they were the only ones who cared, they were the only ones who counted. Certainly they were there when the first knights arrived in Sancrist, traveling from the newly created kingdom of Solamnia to build their keeps and fortress along the westernmost part of their border.
Always suspicious of outsiders, the gnomes were alarmed to see a ship arriving upon their shores, bearing hordes of tall, stern-faced, warlike humans. Determined to keep what they considered a mountain paradise secret from the humans, the gnomes launched into action. Being the most technologically minded of the races on Krynn (they are noted for having invented the steam-powered engine and the coiled spring), the gnomes first thought of hiding within their mountain caverns, but then had a better idea. Hide the mountain itself!
After several months of unending toil by their greatest mechanical geniuses, the gnomes were prepared. Their plan? They were going to make their mountain disappear!
It was at this juncture that one of the members of the gnomish Philosopher’s Guild asked if it wasn’t likely that the knights would have already noticed the mountain, the tallest on the island. Might not the sudden disappearance of the mountain create a certain amount of curiosity in the humans?
This question threw the gnomes into turmoil. Days were spent in discussion. The question soon divided the Philosopher gnomes into two factions: those who believed that if a tree fell in a forest and no one heard it, it still made a crashing sound; and those who believed it didn’t. Just what this had to do with the original question was brought up on the seventh day, but was promptly referred to committee.
Meanwhile, the Mechanical Engineers, in a huff, decided to set off the device anyhow.
And thus occurred the day that is still remembered in the annals of Sancrist (when