Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [5]
It was Elistan who recalled the ancient legends of Tarsis the Beautiful and its gull-winged ships. But that’s all they were—legends, as Tanis had pointed out when Elistan first mentioned his idea. No one on this part of Ansalon had heard anything about the city of Tarsis since the Cataclysm three hundred years ago. At that time, the dwarves had closed off the mountain kingdom of Thorbardin, effectively shutting off all communication between the south and north, since the only way through the Kharolis Mountains was through Thorbardin.
Tanis listened gloomily as the Council of Highseekers voted unanimously to approve Elistan’s suggestion. They proposed sending a small group of people to Tarsis with instructions to find what ships came into port, where they were bound, and how much it would cost to book passage—or even to buy a ship.
“And who’s going to lead this group?” Tanis asked himself silently, though he already knew the answer.
All eyes now turned to him. Before Tanis could speak, Raistlin, who had been listening to all that was said without comment, walked forward to stand before the Council. He stared around at them, his strange eyes glittering golden.
“You are fools,” Raistlin said, his whispering voice soft with scorn, “and you are living in a fool’s dream. How often must I repeat myself? How often must I remind you of the portent of the stars? What do you say to yourselves when you look into the night sky and see the gaping black holes where the two constellations are missing?”
The Council members shifted in their seats, several exchanging long-suffering glances indicative of boredom.
Raistlin noticed this and continued, his voice growing more and more contemptuous. “Yes, I have heard some of you saying that it is nothing more than a natural phenomenon—a thing that happens, perhaps, like the falling of leaves from the trees.”
Several Council members muttered among themselves, nodding. Raistlin watched silently for a moment, his lip curled in derision. Then he spoke once more. “I repeat, you are fools. The constellation known as the Queen of Darkness is missing from the sky because the Queen is present here upon Krynn. The Warrior constellation, which represents the ancient God Paladine, as we are told in the Disks of Mishakal, has also returned to Krynn to fight her.”
Raistlin paused. Elistan, who stood among them, was a prophet of Paladine, and many here were converts to this new religion. He could sense the growing anger at what some considered his blasphemy. The idea that gods would become personally involved in the affairs of men! Shocking! But being considered blasphemous had never bothered Raistlin.
His voice rose to a high pitch. “Mark well my words! With the Queen of Darkness have come her ‘shrieking hosts,’ as it says in the Canticle. And the shrieking hosts are dragons!” Raistlin drew out the last word into a hiss that, as Flint said, “shivered the skin.”
“We know all this,” Hederick snapped in impatience. It was past time for the Theocrat’s nightly glass of mulled wine, and his thirst gave him courage to speak. He immediately regretted it, however, when Raistlin’s hourglass eyes seemed to pierce the Theocrat like black arrows. “W-what are you driving at?”
“That peace no longer exists anywhere on Krynn,” the mage whispered. He waved a frail hand. “Find ships, travel where you will. Wherever you go, whenever you look up into the night sky, you will see those gaping black holes. Wherever you go, there will be dragons!” Raistlin began to cough. His body twisted with the spasms, and he seemed likely to fall, but his twin brother, Caramon, ran forward and caught him in his strong arms.
After Caramon led the mage out of the Council meeting, it seemed as if a dark cloud had been lifted. The Council members shook themselves and