Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [178]
Some of the younger knights began to cheer.
“Keep quiet!” Sturm commanded harshly. Their shouts grated on his raw nerves. Laurana came to stand beside him and glanced at him in astonishment. His face was gray and haggard in the flickering torchlight. His gloved fists, resting atop the battlements, clenched and unclenched nervously His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, staring eastward.
Laurana, sensing the rising fear within him, felt her own body grow chill. She remembered what she had told Tas.
“Is it what we feared?” she asked, her hand on his arm.
“Pray we are wrong!” he spoke softly, in a broken voice.
Minutes passed. Nothing happened. Flint came to join them, clambering up on a huge slab of broken stone to see over the edge of the wall. Tas woke, yawning.
“When’s breakfast?” the kender inquired cheerfully, but no one paid any attention to him.
Still they watched and waited. Now all the knights, each of them feeling the same rising fear, lined the walls, staring eastward without any clear idea why.
“What is it?” Tas whispered. Climbing up to stand beside Flint, he saw the small red sliver of sun burning on the horizon, its orange fire turning the night sky purple, dimming the stars.
“What are we looking at?” Tas whispered, nudging Flint.
“Nothing,” Flint grumbled.
“Then why are we looking—” The kender caught his breath with a sharp gulp. “Sturm—” he quavered.
“What is it?” the knight demanded, turning in alarm.
Tas kept staring. The rest followed his gaze, but their eyes were no match for the kender’s.
“Dragons …” Tasslehoff replied. “Blue dragons.”
“I thought as much,” Sturm said softly. “The dragonfear. That’s why they pulled the armies back. The humans fighting among them could not withstand it. How many dragons?”
“Three,” answered Laurana. “I can see them now.”
“Three,” Sturm repeated, his voice empty, expressionless.
“Listen, Sturm—” Laurana dragged him back away from the wall. “I—we—weren’t going to say anything. It might not have mattered, but it does now. Tasslehoff and I know how to use the dragon orb!”
“Dragon orb?” Sturm muttered, not really listening.
“The orb here, Sturm!” Laurana persisted, her hands clutching him eagerly. “The one below the Tower, in the very center. Tas showed it to me. Three long, wide hallways lead to it and—and—” Her voice died. Suddenly she saw vividly, as her subconscious had seen during the night, dragons flying down stone halls.…
“Sturm!” she shouted, shaking him in her excitement. “I know how the orb works! I know how to kill the dragons! Now, if we just have the time—”
Sturm caught hold of her, his strong hands grasping her by the shoulders. In all the months he had known her, he could not recall seeing her more beautiful. Her face, pale with weariness, was alight with excitement.
“Tell me, quickly,” he ordered. Laurana explained, her words falling over themselves as she painted the picture for him that became clearer to her as she talked. Flint and Tas watched from behind Sturm, the dwarf’s face aghast, the kender’s face filled with consternation.
“Who’ll use the orb?” Sturm asked slowly.
“I will,” Laurana replied.
“But, Laurana,” Tasslehoff cried, “Fizban said—”
“Tas, shut up!” Laurana said through clenched teeth. “Please, Sturm!” she urged. “It’s our only hope. We have the dragonlances—and the dragon orb!”
The knight looked at her, then toward the dragons speeding out of the ever-brightening east.
“Very well,” he said finally. “Flint, you and Tas go down and gather the men together in the center courtyard. Hurry!”
Tasslehoff, giving Laurana a last, troubled glance, jumped down from the rock where he and the dwarf had been standing. Flint came after him more slowly, his face somber and thoughtful. Reaching the ground, he walked up to Sturm.
Must you? Flint asked Sturm silently, as their eyes met.
Sturm nodded once. Glancing at Laurana, he smiled sadly. “I’ll tell her,” he said softly. “Take