"The old man said I was to tell you he had urgent news regarding the dragon orb, my lard!"

"The dragon orb!" Gunthar murmured. The orb was secret,

or he presumed it was. The Knights knew of it, of course. Had Derek told anyone else? Was this one of has maneuvers?

"You acted wisely, Wills, as always:' Gunthar said finally.

"Where are they?"

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT

"I put them in your war room, my lord, figuring they could cause little mischief there:'

"I'll change clothes before I catch my death, then see them directly. Have you made them comfortable?"

"Yes, my lard;' Wills replied, hurrying after Gunthar, who was on the move again. "Hot wine, a bit of bread and meat. Though I mistrust the kender's lifted the plates by now-'

Gunthar and Wills stood outside the door of the war room for a moment, eavesdropping on the visitors" conversation.

"Put that back!" ordered a stern voice.

"I won't! It's mine! Look, it was in my pouch:'

"Bah! I saw you put it there not five minutes ago!"

"Well, you're wrong;" protested the other voice in wounded tones. "It's mine! See, there's my name engraved-"

"'Ta Gunthar, my beloved husband an the Day of Life-Gift,"' said the first voice.

There was a moment's silence in the room. Wills turned pale. Then the shrill voice spoke, more subdued this time.

''I guess it must have fallen into my pack, Fizban. That's it! See, my pack was sitting under that table. Wasn't that lucky'' It would have broken if it had hit the floor-"

His face grim, Lord Gunthar flung open the door.

"Merry Yuletide to you, sirs," he said. Wills popped in after him, his eyes darting quickly around the room.

The two strangers whirled around, the old man holding a crockery mug in his hand. Wills made a leap for the mug, whisking it away. With an indignant glance at the kender, he placed it upon the mantlepiece, high above the kender's reach.

"Will there be anything else, my lord?"' Wills asked, glaring meaningfully at tine kender. "Shall I stay and! keep an eye on things?"

Gunther opened his mouth to reply, but the old man waved a negligent hand.

"Yes,. thank you, my good man. Bring up some more ale.

And .don't bring any of that rotgut stuff from tike servant's barrels, either!" The old man :looked at Wills steamy. "Tap the barrel that's in the dark cornea by the cellar stairs. You knowthe one that's all cobwebby."

Wills stared at him, open-mouthed-.

DRAGONLANCE CHRONICLES

"Well, go on. Don't stand there gaping like a landed fish! A bit dim-witted, is he?" the old man asked Gunthar.

"N-no," Gunthar stammered. "That"s all right, Wills. I-I believe I'll have a mug, too-of-of the ale from the cask by the-uh-stairs. How did you know?" He demanded of the old man suspiciously.

"Oh, he's a magic-user," the kender said, shrugging arid sitting down without being invited.

"A magic-user?" The old man peered around. "Where?"

Tas whispered something, poking the old man.

"Really? Me?" he said. "You don't say! How remarkable. Now you know, come to think of it, I do seem to remember a spell . . . Fireball. How did it go?"

The old mage began to speak the strange wards. Alarmed, the kender leaped out of his seek and grabbed the old man.

"No, Old One!" he said, tugging him back into a chair. "Not now!„

'Z suppose not;' the old man said wistfully. "Wonderful spell, though-"

"I'm certain;" murmured Gunthar, absolutely mystified. Then he shook his head, regaining his sternness. "Now, explain yourselves. Who are you? Why are you here? Wills sand something about a dragon orb-"

"f m-" The mage stopped, blinking.

''Fizban;' said .he kender with a sigh. Standing, he extended his small hand politely to Gunthar. "And I am Tasslehoff Burrfoot He started to sit dawn. "Oh;" he said, popping up again. "A Merry Yuletide to you, too, sir knight."

"Yes, yes,' Gunthar shook hands, -nodding absently. "Now about the dragon .orb?"

"Ah, yes, the dragon orb!" The befuddled lank left Fizban's face. He stared at Gunthar with shrewd., cunning eyes. "Where is it? We've come a long way -n search of it:'

"I"m afraid I can"t tell you;' Gunthar said coolly. "If. indeed, such a thing were ever here-"

"Oh, it was here," Fizban replied. "Brought to you by a Knight of the Rose: one Derek Crownguard. And Sturm Brightblade was with him:'

"Tlney're friends of mine," explain-:d Tasslehoff, seeing Gunw thar's jaw go slack. 'I helped get the orb, in fac:;' the kender

THE DRAGONS OF WINTER NIGHT

added modestly. "We took it away from an evil wizard in a palace made of ice. It's the most wonderful story-" He sat forward eagerly. "Do you want to hear it?"

"No;" said Gunthar, staring at them both in amazement. "And if I believed this swimming bird tale-wait-" He sank back in his chair. "Sturm did say something about a kender. Who were the others in your party'"'

"Flint the dwarf, Theros the blacksmith, Gilthanas and Laurana-"

"It must be!" Gunthar exclaimed, then he frowned. "But he never mentioned a magic-user. . . :'

"Oh, that's because I'm dead;' Fizban stated, propping his feet up on the table.

Gunthar's eyes opened wide, but before he could reply, Wills came in. Glaring at Tasslehoff, the retainer set mugs down on the :able in franc of his lordship.

"three mugs, here" my lord. And one an the mantle makes four. .end there better be four when I come back!"

He walked out, shutting the door with a thud.

"III keep an eye on them;' Tas promised solemnly. "Do you have a problem with people stealing mugs:" he asked Gunthar.

"I-no…. Dead?" Gunthar felt he was rapidly losing his grip on the situation.

"It's a long story," said Fizban, downing the liquid in one swallow. He wiped the foam from his lops with the tip of his beard. "Ah, excellent. Now, where was I?"

"Dead;' said Tas helpfully.

"Ah, yes. A long story. Too long for now. Must get the orb. Where is it?"

Gunthar stood up angrily, intending to order this strange old man and this kender from has chamber and his castle. He was going to tall his guards to extract them. But, instead, he found h mself caught by the old morn's intense gaze.

The Knights of Solamnia have always feared magic. Though they had not taken part in the destruction of the Towers of High Sorcery-that would have been against the Measure-they had mat been sorry to see magic-users driven from Palanthas.

"Why do you want to know?" Gunthar faltered, feeling a cold fear seep into his blood as he felt the old man's strange Power engulf him. Slowly, reluctant: y, Gunthar sat back down.

X85

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Fizban's eyes glittered. "I keep my own counsel;" he said softly. "Let it be enough for you to know that I have came seeking the orb, It was made by magic-users, long ago I I know of it. I know a great deal about it:"

Gunthar hesitated, wrestling with himself. After aII, there were knights guarding the orb, and if this old man really did know something about it, what harm could there be in telling him whew it was? Besides, he really didn't feel like he had any choice in the matter.

Fizban absently picked up his empty mug again and started to drink. He peered inside it mournfully as Gunthar answered.

"The dragon orb is with the gnomes."

Fizban dropped his mug with a crash. It broke into a hundred pieces that went skittering across the wooden floor.

"There, what'd I tell you?" Tas said sadly, eyeing the shattered mug.

The gnomes had lived in Mount Nevermind for as long as they could remember-and since they were the only apes who cared, they were the only ones who counted. Certainly they were there when the first knights arrived in Sancrist, traveling from the newly created kingdom of Solamnia to build their keeps and fortress along the westernmost park of their border