The Second Generation

by Margaret Weis

  “Plus it’s a matter of honor, lad,” Dougan said solemnly. “You did lose the bet. And it will be a few days before the gnomes have the ship repaired.…”

  “And the women will probably be very grateful!” struck in Sturm.

  “All right, we’ll go!” said Tanin. “Though I’d rather face a dragon than fight the power of some sort of weird rock.”

  “Ha, ha, dragon!” repeated the dwarf, with a sickly grin that Tanin was too preoccupied to notice.

  The brothers and the dwarf walked up to the chief, who was hanging laundry out to dry and keeping an anxious eye on the stew pot to see that it didn’t boil over.

  “Listen to me, men!” Tanin called loudly, motioning the warriors of the village to gather around him. “My brothers and the dwarf and I are going to go to the castle of this Lord Gargath to take the Graygem. Would any of you like to come along?”

  Glancing at each other, the warriors shook their heads.

  “Well, then,” Tanin continued in exasperation, “will any of you go with us as our guide? You can come back when we reach the castle.”

  Again, the warriors shook their heads.

  “Then we’ll go alone!” Tanin said fiercely. “And we will return with the Graygem or leave our lives in that castle!”

  Spinning on his heel the big man stalked out of the camp, his brothers and the dwarf marching behind. As they left, however, they encountered dark looks from the warriors and heard muttered comments. More than a few shook their fists at them.

  “They certainly don’t look pleased,” Tanin said. “Especially since we’re the ones facing all the danger. What is it they’re saying?”

  “I think it’s just occurred to them that the women will probably be very grateful,” Dougan answered in a low voice.

  Chapter Five

  A Matter of Honor

  Sturm later maintained that Tanin should have realized what was going on and kept the dwarf out of the game that night Tanin retorted that Sturm should keep his mouth shut since he slept through the whole thing. But Palin reminded them both that they were all under the influence of the Graygem at the time, so it probably wouldn’t have made any difference anyway.

  They had walked all day, moving easily through the thick jungle, following a trail that had obviously been there for years. The major problem was the heat, which was intense. Sturm and Tanin soon took off their armor and packed it away and finally convinced Palin to strip off his white robes, though he protested long against wandering the wilderness clad only in his undergarments.

  “Look,” said Tanin, finally, after Palin was on the verge of collapse, his robes dripping with sweat, “there aren’t any women to see you, that much we know. Hang your spell bags around your waist We can always get dressed again before we reach the next village.” Palin reluctantly agreed and, other than taking some ribbing from Sturm about his skinny legs, was thankful he did so. The jungle grew steamier as the sun rose higher, Intermittent rain showers cooled the brothers and the dwarf occasionally, but in the end served only to increase the humidity.

  Dougan, however, steadfastly refused to shed so much as his broad-brimmed hat, maintaining that the heat was nothing to a dwarf and ridiculing the humans for their weakness. This he did with perspiration streaming down his face until it dripped off the ends of his moustache. He marched along with a defiant air, as if daring one of them to say something, and often grumbled that they were slowing him down. Yet Palin saw Dougan more than once, when he thought no one was looking, slump down on a rock, fan himself with his hat, and mop his face with his beard.

  By the time they arrived at the next village, which was about a day’s walk through the jungle, all of them—even the dwarf—were so limp and tired that they barely had the strength to put their clothes and their armor back on in order to make an impressive show. Word of their coming must have traveled in some mysterious way (Palin thought he knew, then, the reason for the strange drumbeats they’d been hearing), for they were met by the men of the village and the children. The men regarded them coldly (though more than a few eyes flashed at the sight of the elven armor), gave them food and drink, and indicated a hut where they could spend the night. Tanin made a stirring speech about storming Gargath Castle and asked for volunteers.

  The only responses were dark looks, shuffling feet, and a muttered comment, “I can’t. I’ve got a chicken stewing.…”

  This being no more than they had expected, the brothers stripped off their armor and their clothes and went to bed. Their night’s rest was unbroken, save for slapping at some sort of winged, carnivorous insect that apparently had a craving for human flesh, and one other incident.

  Around midnight, Tanin was wakened by the dwarf, shaking his shoulder and loudly calling his name.

  “Whasit?” mumbled Tanin sleepily, fumbling for his sword.

  “Nay, lad, put your weapon away,” said Dougan, hurriedly. “I just need to know something, lad. You and me and your brothers, we’re comrades, aren’t we?”

  Tanin recalled, as well as he could recall anything, that the dwarf had seemed particularly anxious about this and had repeated the question several times.

  “Yeah, comrades,” Tanin muttered, rolling over.

  “What’s mine is yours, yours is mine?” persisted the dwarf, leaning over to look the young man in the face.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Tanin waved a hand, brushing away a feeding insect and the dwarf’s beard at the same time.

  “Thank you, lad! Thank you,” said Dougan gratefully. “You won’t regret it.”

  Tanin said later that the dwarf’s last words, “You won’t regret it,” lingered ominously in his dreams, but he was too tired to wake up and ponder the situation.

  As it was, he had plenty of time for pondering the next morning when he woke to find a spear point at his throat and several tall warriors standing over him. A quick glance showed him his brothers in similar circumstances.

  “Sturm!” Tanin called, not daring to move and keeping his hands in plain sight. “Palin, wake up!”

  His brothers woke quickly at the sound of alarm in his voice, and stared at their captors in sleepy surprise.

  “Tanin,” said Palin, keeping his voice even, “what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out!” Tanin angrily thrust the spear point aside. “What is this nonsense?” he asked, starting to stand up. The spear point was at his throat again, joined, this time, by two more—one at his chest, the other jabbing him in the back.

  “Tell them that no matter how grateful the women are, it won’t matter to us!” said Sturm, swallowing and trying in vain to inch backward. The spear followed him. “We’re going to be knights! We’ve taken vows of celibacy.…”

  “It’s … uh … not the women, lad,” muttered a shamefaced Dougan, entering the hut and thrusting his head in between the warriors. “It’s … uh … a matter of honor … so to speak. The truth of it is, lads,” the dwarf continued with a heart-rending sigh, “I got into a wee bit of a game last night.”

  “So?” grunted Tanin. “What has that got to do with us?”

  “I’ll explain,” Dougan began, licking his lips, his eyes darting from one to the other of the brothers. “I threw the bones well the first hour or two. Won the chief’s feather headdress and two cows. I was going to quit then, I swear it, but the old boy was upset and so what could I do but let him try to win them back? My luck was going that good, I bet it all on one toss, plus threw in my axe and my own hat as well.”

  Tanin looked at the dwarf’s bare head. “You lost”

  Dougan’s shoulders slumped. “I didn’t miss the other so much, but I couldn’t do without my hat, now could I? So I bet all my money against the hat and—” He looked at Tanin wistfully.

  “You lost that, too,” Tanin muttered.

  “Snake eyes,” said the dwarf sadly.

  “So now you’ve lost your money, your axe, and your hat.”

  “Not quite,” Dougan hedged. “Yo
u see, I just couldn’t do without my hat.… And I didn’t have anything left that the old boy wanted, my jacket not fitting him. And you did say we were comrades, share and share alike—”

  “When did you say that?” Sturm demanded, glaring at Tanin.

  “I don’t remember!” Tanin growled.

  “So, I bet your armor,” said the dwarf.

  “You what?” Tanin roared in fury.

  “The chief had taken a liking to it when he saw it on you last evening,” continued Dougan rapidly. Even with five spears pointed directly at him, Tanin looked extremely formidable and extremely angry. “I bet your armor against my axe and hat, and I won.” The dwarf looked smug.

  “Thank Paladine!” breathed Tanin, relaxing.

  “Then,” said Dougan, looking uncomfortable, “since my luck was obviously turning, I decided to try for my money back. I bet the armor, my hat, and”—he pointed—“the magic staff against my money, the cows, and the axe.”

  This time it was Palin who, oblivious of the spears, sat forward, his face deathly pale, his lips ashen. “You bet … my staff!” He could scarcely speak. Reaching out a trembling hand, he grasped hold of the staff, which lay at his side even while he slept.

  “Aye, lad,” said Dougan, regarding him with wide-eyed innocence. “We’re comrades. Share and share—”

  “This staff,” said Palin in a low, shaking voice, “belonged to my uncle, Raistlin Majere! It was a gift from him.”

  “Indeed?” Dougan appeared impressed. “I wish I had known that, lad,” he said wistfully, “I would have wagered more—”

  “What happened?” Palin demanded feverishly.

  “I lost.” Dougan heaved a sigh. “I’ve seen a man roll snake eyes twice in a game only once before and that was when I—Well, never mind.”

  “You lost my staff!” Palin seemed near fainting.

  “And our armor?” Sturm shouted, veins swelling in his neck.

  “Wait!” Dougan held up his hand hastily. The warriors with the spears, despite their weapons and their obvious advantage, were beginning to look a little nervous. “I knew how upset you lads would be, losing all your possessions like this, so I did the only thing I could. I wagered your swords.”

  This time the shock was so great that neither Tanin nor Sturm could speak, they simply stared at Dougan in stunned silence.

  “I put up the swords and my battle-axe against the magic staff and my hat. I truly wish”—Dougan glanced at the shaken Palin—“that I’d known the staff belonged to Raistlin of the Black Robes. Even here, they’ve heard of him, and I likely could have gotten the chief to throw in the armor. As it was, he wasn’t all that impressed with what he’d seen of the staff—”

  “Get on with it!” Palin cried in a choked voice, clutching the staff close.

  “I won!” Dougan spread his hands, then sighed again, only this was a sigh of ecstasy. “Ah, what a throw that was.…”

  “So … I have my staff?” Palin asked timidly, brightening.

  “We have our swords?” Tanin and Sturm began to breathe.

  “Finding that my luck had shifted,” the dwarf continued, plunging the brothers into gloom once more, “I decided to try for the armor again. Figuring what good were swords without armor, I bet the weapons and—” He gestured bleakly toward the warriors with the spears.

  “You lost,” Tanin said glumly.

  “But I still have my staff?” Palin asked nervously.

  “Aye, lad. I tried to use it to win back the swords, my axe, and the armor, but the chief didn’t want it.” Dougan shook his head, then gazed at Palin intently, a sudden, cunning expression twisting his face. “But if you were to tell him it belonged to the great Raistlin Majere, perhaps I could—”

  “No!” snarled Palin, holding the staff close.

  “But, lad,” pleaded the dwarf, “my luck’s bound to change. And we’re comrades, after all. Share and share alike …”

  “This is great!” said Sturm gloomily, watching the last of his armor being carried out of the hut. “Well, I guess there’s nothing left to do now but go back to the ship.”

  “The ship?” Dougan appeared astonished. “When we’re so close? Why, Lord Gargath’s castle’s only a day’s march from here!”

  “And what are we going to do when we get there?” Tanin demanded furiously. “Knock on the door in our underwear and ask him to lend us weapons so that we can fight him?”

  “Look at it this way, Big Brother,” Sturm pointed out, “he might drop over dead from laughter.”

  “How can you joke at a time like this?” Tanin raged. “And I’m not certain I’m ready to leave yet.”

  “Easy, my brothers,” Palin said softly. “If all we lose from this fool quest is some weapons and armor, I’m beginning to think we can count ourselves lucky. I agree with Sturm, Tanin. We’d better head back for the ship before the day gets much hotter.”

  “That’s easy for you to say!” Tanin retorted bitterly. “You’ve still got your precious staff!” He looked over to the chief’s hut, where the old man was happily decking himself out in the bright armor, putting most of it on upside down. Then he cast a dark glance at the contrite Dougan. “I suppose Palin’s right,” Tanin said grudgingly, glaring at the dwarf. “We should count ourselves lucky. We’ve had enough of this fool quest, dwarf. We’re getting out of here before we lose anything else—like our lives!”

  Turning, Tanin found himself, once again, facing a ring of spears and this time his own sword, held by a grinning warrior.

  “Wanna bet, lad?” Dougan said cheerfully, twirling his moustache.

  “I thought as much,” Palin remarked.

  “You’re always thinking ‘as much’ when it’s too late to do anything about it!” Tanin snapped.

  “It was too late when we first set eyes on the dwarf,” Palin said in low tones.

  The three, plus Dougan, were being escorted down the jungle trail, spears at their backs. The castle of Lord Gargath loomed ahead of them. They could see it quite clearly now—a huge, misshapen building made entirely of shining gray marble. All three brothers had visited the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth Forest, and they had been impressed and overawed by the magical aura that surrounded it. They felt a similar awe approaching this strange castle, only it was an awe mingled with the wild desire to laugh hysterically.

  None of them could tell afterward describe Castle Gargath, since the appearance of the castle shifted constantly. First it was a massive fortress with four tall, stalwart towers topped by battlements. As they watched in amazement, the towers swelled out and spiraled upward into graceful minarets. Then the minarets melted together, forming one gigantic dome that separated into four square towers once more. While all this was going on, turrets sprouted from the walls like fungi, windows blinked open and shut, a drawbridge over a moat became a bower of gray roses over a still, gray pond.

  “The power of the Graygem,” Dougan remarked.

  “ ‘The power of the Graygem,’ ” Tanin mimicked sarcastically. He shook his fist at the dwarf. “I’m getting so sick of hearing about that blasted rock that I—”

  “I think I figured out what’s going on,” Palin interrupted.

  “Well, what?” Sturm asked miserably. “They don’t want us to go, apparently. Yet they threaten to kill us if we try to turn back! They take our clothes …” In addition to losing their armor and their weapons, he and Tanin had been stripped of their clothes; the chief having discovered that the armor chafed without anything underneath it. Sturm and Tanin, therefore, were now approaching Gargath Castle clad only in loincloths (having coldly refused the offer of breastplates made of bone).

  Palin and Dougan had been more fortunate, the mage having kept his robes and the dwarf his red velvet jacket and breeches (minus the hat). The reason for this leniency on the chief’s part was, Palin suspected, Dougan’s whispered remarks to the chief concerning the staff. Contrary to what the dwarf had anticipated, the fact that the staff had belonged to Raistli
n Majere caused the chief to open his eyes wide in terror. Palin also suspected Dougan of continuing to try to drum up a game (the dwarf wanted his hat back badly), but the chief obviously wanted no part of an object of such evil. The members of the tribe kept a respectful distance from Palin after that, some waving chickens’ feet in his direction when they thought he wasn’t watching.

  That didn’t stop the warriors from marching him off down the trail at spear-point toward the castle with his brothers and the chagrined Dougan, however.

  “Put yourself in the place of one of these warriors,” said Palin, sweating in his hot robes but not daring to take them off for fear the warriors would grab them, too. “You are under the influence of the Graygem, which is literally chaos incarnate. You hate the Graygem more than anything, yet you are ordered to guard it with your life. Because of the Graygem, you’ve lost your women. Strangers come to take the Graygem and rescue your women, who will undoubtedly be grateful to their saviors. You don’t want strangers saving your womenfolk, but you’d give anything to have your women back. You must guard the Graygem, but you’d do anything to get rid of it. Are you following me?”

  “Sort of,” Tanin said cautiously. “Go on.”

  “So you take the strangers,” Palin finished, “and send them to the castle naked and weaponless, knowing they’re bound to lose, yet hoping in your heart they’ll win.”

  “That makes sense, in a weird sort of way,” Sturm admitted, looking at Palin with undisguised admiration. “So, what do we do now?”

  “Yes, Palin,” Tanin said gravely. “I can fight minotaurs and draconians … I’d rather be fighting minotaurs and draconians,” he added, breathing heavily, the heat and humidity taking their toll on the big man, “but I’m lost here. I can’t fight chaos. I don’t understand what’s going on. If we’re going to get out of this, it’s up to you and your magic, Little Brother.”

  Palin’s eyes stung with sudden tears. It had been worth it, he thought. It had been worth this whole insane adventure to know that he had finally won his brothers’ respect and admiration and trust. It was something a man might willingly die to achieve … For a moment, he did not trust himself to speak, but walked on in silence, leaning on the Staff of Magius, which felt oddly cool and dry in the hot, humid jungle.