The History of Krynn: Vol V

by Dragon Lance

  Men and ogres were clashing furiously with one another. In Huma’s eyes, it seemed as if the land below was swarming with the dead and dying. Both sides were advancing and retreating at the same time, depending upon where he looked. It was chaos. Dragons of Takhisis continually dove down, assaulting both the ravaged lines of the knights and any of their ogre allies who were unfortunate enough to be too near. There were dragons of gold, silver, bronze, and copper, but they always seemed outnumbered. Worse yet, there prevailed a sense of malevolent power all about that the courage of the good dragons could not seem to counter. Even up here, away from the battle, Huma could feel discouragement and surrender building up within his soul.

  “Takhisis is here,” Huma’s companion muttered to him. “She is here on Krynn, feeding our cousins with her power, chilling the minds of her enemies. I did not think she could retain so much of her power on the mortal plain. It is as if she were before us herself.”

  It was true. The Dragonqueen’s presence was overwhelming. Huma shivered from a cold that threatened to numb his mind more than his body. How did one fight a goddess?

  “Up ahead, Huma. Can you see it?”

  His gaze followed the direction her head pointed and, after wiping his eyes more than once, he identified the tiny object on the horizon.

  “Vingaard Keep!” Kaz shouted from ahead of them. By now, they all could see it – and the battle that seemed to cover every inch of ground all the way to its walls.

  Lord Avondale cried out and pointed to their right. A gold dragon battled two reds. The combat was fierce, and all three bore wounds. When it became obvious that the gold dragon was beginning to lose, Bolt waited no longer. With Kaz readying his Dragonlance, the two charged into the fray.

  Suddenly, there were dragons everywhere, most of them foes. All thoughts of food and rest vanished. There were only the claws and the teeth, the cries and the screams, the blood and the pain.

  And the Dragonlances.

  The dark dragons here knew nothing of the lances, perhaps because Dracos had not wanted them to fear. They soon learned that fear, however, as one after another perished on the points of lances which, when pulled free, were unstained and unscratched, and glowed with a brilliance all their own.

  The children of Takhisis soon began to turn and flee from that brilliance, for they marked it easily as the sign of Paladine and they had no power against him. Others, farther off, noted the frenzy with which their brethren fled the battle and assumed then that the day was lost. The fleeing of the first dragons soon became a wave of confusion in the sky as more and more retreated in uncomprehending panic.

  Freed from battling their counterparts, the dragons of Paladine added to the strength of the knighthood, and the tide on the ground began to turn as well. First the west, then the eastern lines of the Dragonqueen’s forces began to bend, give, and then at last crumble. Without the aid of their dragon allies, the ogres and humans who fought for the darkness lost courage, and many simply threw down their weapons and fled.

  Eventually, the fighting died. That the skies rumbled ominously and lightning blasted the mountains to the west disturbed only a few. A victory of some kind had been desperately needed, and it had been produced. No one at the time knew how, but they gave thanks to Paladine and his house for the miracle and then grimly waited to see what would happen next.

  Well past midday, four exhausted dragons landed in the courtyard of Vingaard Keep. On their backs they each bore a rider, all of whom also were pale and exhausted. A silvery glow encompassed the newcomers and eventually someone realized it was the great lances that glowed so godlike, and not the dragons and riders themselves.

  By that time, though, the stories were already spreading.

  Chapter 25

  “They told me it was you, but I could not believe it! Not after the tales that have circulated.”

  “Tales?” Huma and his companions had climbed down from the dragons – where they would have been swarmed by knights and commonfolk alike if not for the quick thinking of Lord Grendal, who controlled the Keep’s defenses. Several of the well-trained veterans who made up Grendal’s force were out and around the newcomers within the first minute after the landing.

  Lord Oswal, Grand Master, indicated Huma himself. “You know what I speak of. The stories of your battle with the demon who seeded plague and dissension throughout the land.”

  “Rennard?”

  “Rennard. Amazing how faulty their memories can be. When he was revealed for what he was and you defeated him there, they quickly forgot how much they wanted to believe the rumors he spread. They blamed him as an evil demon or cleric – I forget what exactly. Then, to top it all off, you supposedly vanish into thin air like Paladine himself.”

  Huma’s face turned dark crimson. “The part about my vanishing is true, but I assure my lord that it was not by my own power.”

  “Indeed.” Lord Oswal’s eyes strayed to the Dragonlances and his body seemed to shake momentarily. “Are those, then, what you have been seeking? What we have so desperately needed?”

  “Yes, milord. The Dragonlances. We would have been here sooner, but we became caught up in the battle.”

  “I daresay. I’ve had men and dragons alike speak of how the eight of you came from nowhere, dealing fear and death to the Dragonqueen’s lackeys. Perhaps they are right; perhaps you are Paladine in mortal guise come to Krynn.”

  “Lord Oswal!”

  The Grand Master chuckled. “I have not come around to that way of thinking, Huma. Not yet.” Despite his evident desire to inspect the lances, Oswal turned to the rest of Huma’s band. “I know you, minotaur, and glad I am that I had faith in you. You live up to all the good I have heard of your kind. I thank you for your assistance.”

  Kaz was oddly quiet. “I did what I was required to do. I have sworn an oath to Huma.”

  “Is that all it was?” The Grand Master smiled and turned to the others, starting with Lord Avondale. There was just the hint of coolness in the Grand Master’s tone. “I welcome you, Ergothian commander, as a fellow knight. I do not suppose you have brought your army with you?”

  “When we met that one time, Grand Master, I knew you would someday hold your present position, but I hoped it would mellow you before we had to face each other again.”

  Oswal accepted the veiled reprimand with a more genuine smile. “Forgive me if I sometimes forget I am also in the presence of a cleric of Paladine.”

  Huma, Kaz, and Buoron looked at one another. While they respected Lord Avondale, they would have never taken him for a cleric of Paladine. Then again, who was to say what a cleric had to look like so long as his belief and his ways did not contradict the teachings?

  “You’ve let out my secret, but it’s just as well. Perhaps Huma now will understand why I wanted him to accompany me to Caergoth. When I noted the sign of Morgion on such an obviously loyal knight, I worried that he might be marked for some foul deed.” Avondale turned back to Huma and smiled.

  The Grand Master turned from Avondale and regarded Buoron with some amusement. With his great beard, the knight from the southwest stood out. Buoron was shaking in the presence of the Grand Master.

  “You are …”

  The knight blinked several times before blurting out his name. “Buoron, milord!”

  “From one of our remote Ergothian outposts, I imagine.”

  “Yes, milord.” Buoron was white.

  “Good man.” Lord Oswal patted him on the shoulder and turned away. Buoron breathed a sigh of relief and gave a sickly smile.

  “Now, then, Huma.” The Grand Master was all seriousness. “If you would be so kind, I would like you and your companions to join me in my quarters. I want to hear everything.”

  “Yes, milord, but the Dragonlances —”

  “Will be handled with care and placed in a safe location until we decide what can be done with them. Now come; I suspect you all could do with something to drink. I know after today’s near-catastrophe, I could.�
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  Huma’s report was punctuated every now and then by the thunder and lightning playing havoc in the mountains to the west. Takhisis letting loose her rage on those who had failed her, Kaz suggested, or perhaps Galan Dracos furious over his followers’ failed attempts to seize the Dragonlances.

  Lord Oswal tapped the table as he absorbed all Huma had related. “Paladine! I never would have believed it if it had not been you – and to actually see them! You make an old man proud, Huma. Durac would have been proud, I know that.”

  “Thank you, milord.” That compliment meant more to him than all others.

  “Made from dragonsilver by a smith with one silver arm, and bearing a god-forged hammer, as well.”

  Huma looked perplexed. “I made no mention of that.”

  The Grand Master smiled knowingly. “I am a student of old lore, Huma, which is one reason I believed in you all along. If this smith is as you described him, he must be bearing a hammer that was forged by Reorx himself. I am thankful that our ancient records are true after all and you have lived to bring the weapon to us.”

  Something had been building up inside Huma and he finally stood. “Milord, I beg of you. I appreciate all you have been saying and I know there was much you had to hear, but we now have the Dragonlances and I must ask of you a favor. There are twenty lances that may be utilized in the heavens. Give me but one lance and let me fly to the domain of Galan Dracos and his dark mistress. I must free Magius!”

  “Knight Huma.” The Grand Master’s voice was toneless, frighteningly akin to Rennard’s. Lord Oswal stared at him until Huma sat. “One man or woman, be they companion, lover, or blood kin, is not worth the lives of hundreds – and I say that even if I were that one. You may disagree with me, and that is your prerogative – in private. We are fighting for the existence of all Solamnia, of all Ansalon if not Krynn itself. I cannot condone your idea.”

  “He was taken defending the lances.” Huma’s bitterness began to show.

  “I understand that, Knight Huma, as I understand the dangers to you that I think you do not. My answer remains the same. Understood?”

  Huma said nothing.

  “Now, then, you have twenty-one lances, one of which is designed for a footsoldier, you said.”

  “Yes.”

  “Twenty lances are hardly sufficient. We were fortunate this time, in that the dragons did not expect you, and your sudden appearance threw them into confusion.”

  “They fled with their tails between their legs,” remarked Kaz smugly.

  “This time. When next they come – and do not believe they will not – they will act with more cunning and more confidence, and four lances, let alone twenty, will not prevail.”

  “You are claiming the fight is lost already. This is not what I expected to hear from the Grand Master of the Knights of Solamnia,” Lord Avondale commented.

  The Grand Master ignored the look of disdain on the Ergothian’s face and kept his gaze fixed on Huma. “While some may see this as accepting defeat, it is only because they have not bothered to wait and hear. What we need to do is clear the smithy of all else and create, as accurately as possible, lances as near in quality to the originals as we can.”

  Guy Avondale’s eyes narrowed, and a thin smile played across his lips. Kaz and Buoron exchanged looks of puzzlement. Huma hesitated, then saw where the elder knight was leading.

  “A ploy! We’re going to ensnare them with a great bluff!”

  Lord Oswal smiled, an edge in his gaze. “A bluff. Exactly. We already have the setup for creating ordinary lances. Now we shall make as many faithful forgeries of the Dragonlances as possible.”

  “How long will all this take?” asked Avondale. “As you yourself have indicated, it will not be long before they return.”

  “Metalworking in most of its forms is an art with us, commander. It is part of the secret of our success. Shoddy weaponry and protection make for shoddy armies – a paraphrasing of something in the Measure. Given two days, we will have more than a hundred lances. They will be, as I said, copies, forgeries of the true Dragonlances. The word has no doubt spread as to the cause of the rout. When next we face them, I hope to have at least a hundred lances ready. When the Dragons of Takhisis come, they will find themselves facing a veritable cavalry charge. The element of surprise will be ours. I am hoping that a hundred lances, supposedly actual Dragonlances, will cause a new panic. With the dragons at bay, our own forces will advance and meet the ogres.”

  “This is more than a bluff. You intend to win, Dragonlances or not. It is an interesting plan. You have faith in it? Truly?”

  “As a cleric of Paladine, you should know. Besides, it is not so much the plan I have faith in as it is in my men. We are, after all, Knights of Solamnia.”

  “Huma.”

  He had been walking alone, trying to sort out all that was happening. Magius, the Dragonlances, Galan Dracos, Gwyneth —

  “Huma?”

  He whirled. She was there in the shadows of the stable. She was clad in a flowing robe of silver-blue, her slim form partially revealed as she walked toward him. Huma could only gape.

  “Gwyneth?”

  She smiled. “You expect someone else?”

  “No!”

  “I wanted to come to you earlier, but it wasn’t possible. There are – some things – I must sort out. I hope you don’t mind if I walk with you, though.”

  “No. Not at all.”

  Gwyneth took his arm, and the two walked slowly around the courtyard. It was the first nearly clear night that Huma could recall. There were even patches of actual sky, as if the cloud cover at last were breaking up. Huma knew better than to hope it would vanish. Only one thing would bring that about: total defeat of the Dragonqueen.

  It took him some time to build up the nerve, but at last Huma asked, “How did you get here?”

  She turned her face from him. “Please don’t ask that now. I promise I’ll tell you soon.”

  “Very well. I’m just glad to see you.”

  That made her turn back. “I’m glad of that. It makes everything worthwhile.” Gwyneth’s expression suddenly darkened again. “I heard something about you wanting to go after Magius by yourself.”

  “The Grand Master forbids it.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I obey the Grand Master. It’s my duty.”

  They were silent after that. Gwyneth had rested one hand on Huma’s arm and, as they walked, he was astonished at the strength in that hand. There was so much he did not know about her, including her connection with the Dragonlance. She must be a cleric, he decided, but of which god he was not sure.

  Gwyneth suddenly stared ahead and stiffened. Huma followed her gaze and caught sight of an unfamiliar male of approximately his own age. The man was dressed like a villager – they had come straggling in to Vingaard Keep just before the war reached their homes – but his stance was not like one of them. The face was fairly well hidden by shadow, but Huma could have sworn that the eyes blazed. After glancing at both of them, the stranger disappeared around a corner.

  “Who is that?” Huma’s hand fell to the hilt of his sword. If someone stalked Gwyneth …

  “No one,” she replied, much too quickly. Gwyneth disengaged herself from Huma’s arm. “I have to leave now. I’ll see you again later, I promise.”

  She turned the way they had come, and hurried away. Huma thought to follow her, but she was out of sight almost instantly. The knight blinked; he could not recall when or where she had turned.

  Reaction to the Dragonlances was not what Huma and the others had expected.

  He had offered to demonstrate the methods and uses of the Dragonlance. To his amazement, only a handful of knights came to see him. One of them revealed the reason for the astonishing apathy among his brethren. Huma, stunned, told the others what the knight had said and how widespread those feelings were among the knighthood.

  “The time for miracles is past. They will not accept the magic of
the lances, and who can blame them? We are asking them to risk their lives uselessly as far as they are concerned. Those who ride with the true Dragonlances will bear the brunt of the assault and then attempt to break through and strike at the heart of evil, Galan Dracos and his infernal mistress. But suicide is against the Oath and Measure. And few have the true faith in Paladine where this is concerned. I was told a few believe I created the lances myself. They want to know why they should risk their lives so needlessly when they could be here, with their comrades, fighting a definite foe on more equal terms. Fighting dragons is one thing; facing the Dragonqueen herself is folly. That message was relayed to me more than once.”

  Lord Oswal rose at that point. “They’ll risk it, curse them! They’re knights, not skulking thieves! I’ll order them to take the lances and use them!”

  “And they’ll die,” Avondale threw in.

  “What’s that?” The two commanders locked eyes.

  “They’ll die, Grand Master. With little or no faith, they’ll simply die. It’s not a matter of whether the power of Paladine flows within the Dragonlances. The hand that guides the weapon also must believe or else reactions will be a little too slow, a little off the mark. They must have faith, as we do, or they will lose because they will see these lances as they have seen all lances – objects that will bend, break, or shatter on the hides of the dark dragons.”

  “But a Dragonlance —”

  The Ergothian cleric held up a hand for silence. “We have twenty Dragonlances, correct?”

  “Plus the footman’s lance,” Huma quickly added.

  “Twenty lances. All we need are twenty men. I think Paladine is watching over us. If there are only twenty Dragonlances, then there is a reason. If we are to obtain more, Paladine will see that we do. If our faith is strong, twenty lances or a thousand, we will triumph.”

  Lord Oswal looked at Huma. “He’s right.”

  Huma studied those assembled in the room. Kaz, Buoron, and Avondale would follow him on this. He needed only sixteen other men. “Let there just be the twenty, then.”