It was glorious, glorious! And I-I will be Grand Master!" He choked and blood spewed from his mouth as he fell back into the arms of the young knight, who looked up at Sturm, his youthful face hopeful.

"Do you suppose he's right, sir? Maybe that was a ruse-'

His voice died at the sight of Sturm's grim face, and he looked back at Derek with pity. "He"s mad, isn't he, sir?T'

"He's dying-bravely-like a true knight;' Sturm said.

"'Victor-%,!" Derek whispered, then his, eyes fixed in his head and he gazed sightlessly into the fog.

"No, you musts"t break it;' said Laurana.

"But Fizban said-"

"I know what he said;' Laurana replied impatiently. "It isn't e•ail, it isn't good, it's sat anything, it's everything. That"-she muttered-"is so like Fizban!'

She .and Tas stand in front of the dragon orb. The orb rested On its stand in the center of the round room, still covered with dust except for the spat Tas had rubbed ream. The roam was dark and eerily silent, so quiet, in fart, that Tas arid Laurana

363

DRAGONLANCE CHRONICLES

felt compelled to whisper.

Laurana stared at the orb, her brow creased in thought. Tas stared at Laurana unhappily, afraid he knew what she was thinking.

"These orbs have to work, Tas!" Laurana said finally. "They were created by powerful magic-users! People like Raistlin who do eat tolerate failure. If only we knew how-"

"I know how;" Tas said in a broken whisper.

"IhJllat7" Laurana asked. "You know! Why didn't you-"

"I didn't know I knew-so to speak;' Tas stammered. "It just came to me. Gnosh-the gnome-told me that he discovered writing inside the orb, letters that swirled around in the mist. He couldn't read them, he said, because they were written in some sort of strange language-"

"The language of magic:'

"Yes, that's what t said and-"

"But that want help us! We can't either of us speak it. If only Raistlin-"

'We don't need Raistlin;' Tas interrupted- "I can't speak it, but I can read it. You see, I have these glasses-glasses of true seeing, Raistlin called there. They let me read languages-even the language of magic. I know because he said if he caught me reading any of his scrolls he'd turn me into a cricket and swallow me whole."

"And you think you can read the orb?"

"7.cantry,"Tashedged" "but, Laurana, Sturm said there probably wouldn't be any dragons. Why should we risk even bath-: sting with the arb7 Fizbam said only the most powerful: magic-users dared use it,"

"Listen to me, Tasslehoff BuxeEaot;" Laurana said softly„] kneeling down beside the kender and staring him straight in the eye. 'If they bring even one dragon here, we're finished. That's why they gave us time to surrender instead of just storming the place They're using the extra time to bring im dragons. 4

~ mruust take this chance!"

.r'I dark path and a light path. Tasslehoff remembered T~ ban's. words and hung his head. Death of those you ,love, be yon have .t`5e covrage.

Slowly Tanis reached into the post of his fleecy vest, pulls ovn the glasses, and fit the wire frames over his pointed ears,

I3

EJ'he sun rises. Darkness descends.

– _~e fog lifted with the coming of morning. The day dawned bright and clear-so clear that Sturm, walking Che battlements, could see the snow-covered grasslands of his birthplace near Vingaard Keep-lands now cc~mp]etely contr©l led by the dragonarmies. The sun's first rays

struck the flag ef the Knights-kingfisher beneath a golden cr.:)',vn, holding a sword decorated with a rose in his claws. The golden emblem glittered in the morning light. Then Sturm

herd the harsh, blaring horns.

The dragonarmies marched upon the Tower at dawn,

DRAGONLANCE CHRONICLES

The young knights-the hundred or so that were left-stood silently on the battlements watching as the vast army crawled across the land with the inexorability of devouring insects. At first Sturm had wondered about the knight's dying words. "They ran before us!" Why had the draganarmy run? Then it became clear to him-the dragonmen had used the knights :: own vainglory against them in an ancient, yet sample, maneuver. Fall back before your enemy . . . not too fast, just let the front lines show enough fear and terror to be believable. Let them seem to break in panic, Then let your enemy charge after you, overextending his lines. And let your armies close in, surround him, and cut hire to shreds.

It didn't need the sight of the bodies-barely visible in the-# distant trampled, bloody snow-to tell Sturm he had judged= correctly. They lay where they had tried desperately to regroup for a final stand. Not that it mattered how they died. He wo ,' dered who would) look an his body when it was all over.

Flint peered out from a crack in the wall. "At least I'll die dry land.," the dwarf muttered.

Sturm smiled slightly, stroking his moustaches. His eyes went to the east. As he thought about dying, he looked up the land where he'd been born -a home he had barely known, a father he barely remembered, a country that had driven his family into exile. He was about to give his life to defend that country^. Why? Why didn't he just leave and go back to Palanthas?

All of his life he had followed the Code and the Measure.

Code: Est Suiax'us oth Mithas-My Honor Is My Life. The Code was all he had left. The Measure was gone. It was Rigld, inflexible, the Measure had encased the Knights in heavier than their armor. The Knights, isolated, Eigl-.tingta_ vive, had dung to the Measure in despair-not realizing twas dal anchor, weighing them down..

Why was I different? Sturm wondered. But he knew the answer, even as he listened to the dwarf grumble. It' because of the dwarf, the kender, the mage~, the half-elf.

They had taught .him ko see the world. through other ,slanted eyes, smaller eyes, even hourglass eyes. I~nig~t~

Derek saw the world in stark black and white.. Sturm had: the world in all its radiant colors, in all its bleak grays.

"It's time;' he said to Flint. The two descended from the high lookout point just as the first of the enemy's poison-tipped arrows arched over the walls.

With shrieks and yells the blaring of horns, and clashing of shield and sword, the dragonarmies struck the Tower of the High Clerist as the sun's brittle light filled the sky.

By nightfall, the flag still flew. The Tower stood.

But half its defenders were dead.

The living had no time during the day to shut the staring eyes

or compose the contorted, agonised limbs, The living had all they could do to stay alive. Peace came at last with the night, as the dragonarmies withdrew to rest and wait for the morrow.

Sturm paced the battlements, his body aching with weariness. Yet every time he tried to rest taut muscles twitched and danced, his brain seemed an fire. And so he was driven to pace again-back and forth, back and forth with slow, measured tread. He could not know that his steady pace drove the day's ?lorrors from the thoughts of the young knights who listened.

:nights in the courtyard, laying out the bodies of friends and comrades, thinking that tomorrow someone might be doing this for them, heard Sturm's steady pacing and felt their fears for tomorrow eased.

The ringing sound of the knight's footfalls brought comfort to even-one, in fact; except to the knight himself. Sturm's thoughts were dark and tormented: thoughts of defeat;

thoughts of dying ignobly; without honor; tortured memories of the dream, seeing his body harked and mutilated by the foul creatures camped beyond. Would the dream came true? he wondered, shivering. 'A'ou]dhe falter at the end, unable to con-

quer fear? Would the -Code tail him, as had the h9easure7

Step. . . ste p . . step . . . step, .

Stop this! Sturm told himself angrily. You'll soon be mad as pour Derek. Spinning abruptly on his heel to break .his stride, the knight turned to find Laurana behind him. His eyes met hers, and the black thoughts „„,ere brightened by her light. As l°nq as such peace and beauty as hers existed in this world there


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