Dragons of Autumn Twilight - By Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman Page 0,167

to do and I hope he pays for it someday!" She snapped a thread viciously.

"Twon't be difficult to free the children," she added, seeing Tanis's worried look. "Flamestrike always sleeps late of a morning. We feed the children their breakfast, take them out for their exercise, and she never stirs. She'll never know they're gone till she wakes, poor thing."

The women, filled with hope for the first time, began modifying old clothes to fit the men. Things went smoothly until it came time to fit them.

"Shave!" Sturm roared in such fury that the women scurried away from the knight in alarm. Sturm had taken a dim view of the disguise idea, anyway, but had agreed to go along with it. It seemed the best way to cross the wide-open courtyard between the fortress and the mines. But, he announced, he would rather die a hundred deaths at the hands of the Dragon Highlord than shave his moustaches. He only calmed down when Tanis suggested covering his face with a scarf.

Just when that was settled, another crisis arose. Riverwind stated flatly that he would not dress up as a woman and no amount of arguing could convince him otherwise. Goldmoon finally took Tanis aside to explain that, in their tribe, any warrior who committed a cowardly act in battle was forced to wear women's clothes until he redeemed himself. Tanis was baffled by this one. But Maritta had wondered how they would manage to outfit the tall man anyway.

After much discussion, it was decided Riverwind would bundle up in a long cloak and walk hunched over, leaning on a staff like an old woman. Things went smoothly after this-for a time at least.

Laurana walked over to a corner of the room where Tanis was wrapping a scarf around his own face.

"Why don't you shave?" Laurana asked, staring at Tanis's beard. "Or do you truly enjoy flaunting your human side as Gilthanas says?"

"I don't flaunt it," Tanis replied evenly. "I just got tired of trying to deny it, that's all." He drew a deep breath. "Laurana, I'm sorry I spoke to you as I did back in the Sla-Mori. I had no right-"

"You had every right," Laurana interrupted. "What I did was the act of a lovesick little girl. I foolishly endangered your lives." Her voice faltered, then she regained control. "It will not happen again. I will prove I can be of value to the group."

Exactly how she meant to do this, she wasn't certain. Although she talked glibly about being skilled in fighting, she had never killed so much as a rabbit. She was so frightened now that she was forced to clasp her hands behind her back to keep Tanis from seeing how she trembled. She was afraid that if she let herself, she would give way to her weakness and seek comfort in his arms, so she left him and went over to help Gilthanas with his disguise.

Tanis told himself he was glad Laurana was showing some signs of maturity at last. He steadfastly refused to admit that his soul stood breathless whenever he looked into her large, luminous eyes.

The afternoon passed swiftly and soon it was evening and time for the women to take dinner to the mines. The companions waited for the guards in tense silence, laughter forgotten. There had, after all, been one last crisis. Raistlin, coughing until he was exhausted, said he was too weak to accompany them. When his brother offered to stay behind with him, Raistlin glared at him irritably and told him not to be a fool.

"You do not need me this night," the mage whispered. "Leave me alone. I must sleep."

"I don't like leaving him here-" Gilthanas began, but before he could continue, they heard the sound of clawed feet outside the cell, and another sound of pots rattling. The cell door swung open and two draconian guards, both smelling strongly of stale wine, stepped inside. One of them reeled a bit as it peered, bleary-eyed, at the women.

"Get moving," it said harshly.

As the "women" filed out, they saw six gully dwarves standing in the corridor, lugging large pots of some sort of nameless stew. Caramon sniffed hungrily, then wrinkled his nose in digust. The draconians slammed the cell door shut behind them. Glancing back, Caramon saw his twin, shrouded in blankets, lying in a dark, shadowy corner.

Fizban clapped his hands. "Well done, my boy!" said the old magician in excitement as part of the wall in the Mechanism Room