Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [88]
“Elistan!” Laurana whispered, but the cleric was gone. Silvara quietly shut the door.
Laurana sank back into her bed, trying to think. Elistan is right, of course. The dragon orb cannot stay here. And if we are going to escape, it must be tonight. But it’s all happening so fast! And it’s all up to me! Can I trust Silvara? But why ask? She’s the only one who can guide us. Then all I have to do is get the orb and the lance and free my friends. I know how to get to the orb and the lance. But my friends—
Laurana knew, suddenly, what she would do. She realized she had been planning it in the back of her mind even as she talked to Elistan.
This commits me, she thought. There will be no turning back. Stealing the dragon orb, fleeing into the night, into strange and hostile country. And then, there is Gilthanas. We’ve been through too much together for me to leave him behind. But he will be appalled at the idea of stealing the orb and running away. And if he chooses not to go with me, would he betray us?
Laurana closed her eyes for a moment. She laid her head down wearily on her knees. Tanis, she thought, where are you? What should I do? Why is it up to me? I didn’t want this.
And then, as she sat there, Laurana remembered seeing weariness and sorrow on Tanis’s face that mirrored her own. Maybe he asked himself these same things. All the times I thought he was so strong, perhaps he really felt as lost and frightened as I do. Certainly he felt abandoned by his people. And we depended on him, whether he wanted us to or not. But he accepted it. He did what he believed was right.
And so must I.
Briskly, refusing to allow herself to think any further, Laurana lifted her head and beckoned for Silvara to come near.
Sturm paced the length of the crude cabin that had been given to them, unable to sleep. The dwarf lay stretched out on a bed, snoring loudly. Across the room, Tasslehoff lay curled in a ball of misery, chained by his foot to the bedpost. Sturm sighed. How much more trouble could they get into?
The evening had gone from bad to worse. After Laurana had fainted, it had been all Sturm could do to hold back the enraged dwarf. Flint vowed to tear Porthios limb from limb. Derek stated that he considered himself to be a prisoner held by the enemy and, as such, it was his duty to try and escape; then he would bring the Knights down to recover the dragon orb by force. Derek was immediately escorted away by the guards. Just when Sturm got Flint calmed down, an elflord appeared out of nowhere and accused Tasslehoff of stealing his purse.
Now they were being held under double guard, “guests” of the Speaker of the Suns.
“Must you pace about like that?” Derek asked coldly.
“Why? Am I keeping you awake?” snapped Sturm.
“Of course not. Only fools could sleep under these circumstances. You’re breaking my concen—”
“Hsst!” Sturm said, raising his hand warningly.
Derek instantly fell silent. Sturm gestured. The older knight joined Sturm in the center of the room where he was staring up at the ceiling. The log house was rectangular, with one door, two windows, and a firepit in the center of the floor. A hole cut in the roof provided ventilation.
It was through this hole Sturm heard the odd sound that caught his attention. It was a shuffling, scraping sound. The wooden beams in the ceiling creaked as though something heavy was crawling over it.
“A wild beast of some sort,” Derek muttered. “And we’re weaponless!”
“No,” Sturm said, listening closely. “It’s not growling. It’s moving too silently, as if it didn’t want to be heard or seen. What are those guards doing out there?”
Derek went to the window and peered out. “Sitting around a fire. Two are asleep. They’re not overly concerned about us, are they?” he asked bitterly.
“Why should they be?” Sturm said, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. “There’s a couple of thousand elves within the sound of a whisper. What the—”
Sturm fell back in alarm as the stars he had been watching through the hole were suddenly blotted out by