Dragons of Winter Night - Margaret Weis [94]
“What legend?” Gilthanas asked. The elflord sat facing Silvara, who was in the prow of the boat. His paddling was not much better than Flint’s, Gilthanas being much more interested in Silvara’s face than his work. Every time Silvara looked up, she found he was staring at her. She became more confused and flustered as the hours passed.
“Surely you are not interested,” she said, gazing out across the silver-gray water, trying to avoid Gilthanas’s gaze. “It is a child’s tale about Huma—”
“Huma!” Sturm said from where he sat behind Gilthanas, his swift, strong oar strokes making up for the ineptness of both elf and dwarf. “Tell us your legend of Huma, Wilder elf.”
“Yes, tell us your legend,” Gilthanas repeated smiling.
“Very well,” she said, flushing. Clearing her throat, she began. “According to the Kaganesti, in the last days of the terrible dragon wars, Huma traveled through the land, seeking to help the people. But he realized, to his sorrow, that he was powerless to stop the desolation and destruction of the dragons. He prayed to the gods for an answer.” Silvara glanced at Sturm, who nodded his head solemnly.
“True,” the knight said. “And Paladine answered his prayer, sending the White Stag. But where it led him, none know.”
“My people know,” Silvara said softly, “because the Stag led Huma, after many trials and dangers, to a quiet grove, here, in the land of Ergoth. In the grove he met a woman, beautiful and virtuous, who eased his pain. Huma fell in love with her and she with him. But she refused his pledges of love for many months. Finally, unable to deny the burning fire within her, the woman returned Huma’s love. Their happiness was like the silver moonlight in a night of terrible darkness.”
Silvara fell silent a moment, her eyes staring far away. Absently she reached down to touch the coarse fabric of the cloak covering the dragon orb which lay at her feet.
“Go on,” Gilthanas urged. The elflord had given up all pretext of paddling and sat still, enchanted by Silvara’s beautiful eyes, her musical voice.
Silvara sighed. Dropping the fabric from her hands, she stared out over the water into the shadowy woods. “Their joy was brief,” she said softly. “For the woman had a terrible secret—she was not born of woman, but of dragon. Only by her magic did she keep the shape of womankind. But she could no longer lie to Huma. She loved him too much. Fearfully she revealed to Huma what she was, appearing before him one night in her true shape—that of a silver dragon. She hoped he would hate her, even destroy her, for her pain was so great she did not want to live. But, looking at the radiant, magnificent creature before him, the knight saw within her eyes the noble spirit of the woman he loved. Her magic returned her to the shape of woman, and she prayed to Paladine that he give her woman’s shape forever. She would give up her magic and the long life span of the dragons to live in the world with Huma.”
Silvara closed her eyes, her face drawn with pain. Gilthanas, watching her, wondered why she was so affected by this legend. Reaching out, he touched her hand. She started like a wild animal, drawing back so suddenly the boat rocked.
“I’m sorry,” Gilthanas said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What happened? What was Paladine’s answer?”
Silvara drew a deep breath. “Paladine granted her wish, with a terrible condition. He showed them both the future. If she remained a dragon, she and Huma would be given the Dragonlance and the power to defeat the evil dragons. If she became mortal, she and Huma would live together as man and wife, but the evil dragons would remain in the land forever. Huma vowed he would give up everything—his knighthood, his honor—to remain with her. But she saw the light die in his eyes as he spoke, and, weeping, she knew the answer she must give. The evil dragons must not be allowed to stay in the world. And the silver river, it is said, was formed from the tears shed by the dragon when Huma left her to find the Dragonlance.”
“Nice story. Kind of sad,” said Tasslehoff, yawning.