Laurana's face glowed. "You come, too, Sturml" she said, tugging at him like a child eager to show a parent a new toy. "I'll explain this to the men if you want. Then you can give the orders and ,arrange the battle disposition-"

"You're in command, Laurana," Sturm said.

"What?" Laurana stopped, fear replacing the hope in her heart so suddenly the pain made her gasp.

"You said you needed time;" Sturm said, adjusting his swordbelt, avoiding her eyes. "You're right. You must get the men in

Position. You must have tune to use the orb. I will gain you that time." Re picked up a bow and aquiver of .arrows.

"No! Sturm! " Laurana shivered with terror. 'You can't mean this! I can't command! I need you! Sturm, don't -do this to yourself!" Her voice died to a whisper, "Don't do this to me!"

"You can command, Laurana," Sturm said, taking her head in his hands. Leaning forward, he kissed her gently. "Farewell, elEmaid;' he said softly. "Your light will shine in this world. It is time for mine to darken. Don't grieve, dear one. Don't cry:" He held her close. "The Forestmaster said to us, in Darken Wood, that we should not mourn those who have fulfilled their destiny. Mine is fulfilled. Now, hurry, Laurana. You'll need every second:'

"At least take the dragonlance with you;' she begged.

Sturm shook his head, his hand on the antique sword of his father. "I don't know how to use it. Good-bye, Laurana. Tell Tanis-" He stopped, then he sighed. "No;" he said with a slight smile. "He will know what was in my heart."

"Sturm , . :" Laurana's tears choked her into silence. She could only stare at hire in mute appeal.

"Go;' he said.

Stumbling blindly, Laurana turned around and somehow made her way dawn the stairs to the courtyard below. Here she felt a strong, hand grasp hers.

"Flint;" she began, sobbing painfully, "he, Sturm . . :'

"I know, Laurana," the dwarf replied. "I saw it in his face. I think I've seen it there for as long as I can remember. It"s up to you now. You can't fail him."

Laurana drew a deep breath, then wiped her eyes with her hands, cleaning her tear-streaked face as best she could. Taking . another breath, she lifted her head. ,

"There;" she said, keeping her voice firm and steady. "Um,

ready. Where's Tas?" `

"Here;' said) a small voice.

"Go on down. You read the words in the orb once before. -i head them again. Make absolutely certain you've got it right" -'i

"Yes, Laurana ' Tas.gulped and ran off..

"The knights are assembled,'" Flint said. "Waiting your command"

"Waiting my command';' Laurana repeated absently.

Hesitating, she looked up. The red rays of the sun flashed off Sturm's bight armor as the knight climbed the narrow sk ' that led tos high. wallnear the central Tower- Sighing. shela ferect her gaze to the courtyard where the knights waited.

Laurana drew another deep breath, then walked toward them, the red crest fluttering from her helmet, her golden hair flaming in the morning light.

The cold and brittle sun stained the sky blood red, deepening into the velvet blue-blackness of receding night. The Tower stood in shadow still, though the sun's rays sparkled off the golden threads in the fluttering flag.

Sturm reached the top of the wall. The Tower soared above him. The parapet Storm stood upon extended a hundred feet or moue to his left, Its stone surface was smooth, providing no shelter, no cover.

Looking east, Sturm saw the dragons.

They were blue dragons, and on the back of the lead dragon in the formation sat a Dragon Highlord, the blue-black draganscale armor gleaming in the sunlight. He could see the hideous horned mask, the black cape fluttering behind. Two other blue dragons with riders followed the Dragon Highlord. Sturm gave them a brief, perfunctory glance. They did not concern him. His battle was with the leader, the Highlord.

The knight looked into the courtyard far below him. Sunlight was just climbing the walls. Sturm saw it flicker acct off the tips of the silver dragonlances that each man held now in his hand _ He saw it burn on Laurana's golden hair. He saw the men look up at him. Grasping his sword; he raised it into the air. Sunlight trashed from the ornately carved blade.

Smiling up at him, though she could barely see him through her tears. Laurana raised her dragonlance into the air in answer-in good-bye.

Comforted by her smile. Sturm turned back to face his enemy.

I'Valking to the center of the wall, he seemed a small figure poised halJivay between land and sky. The dragons could fly past him.. or circle around h:na, but that wasn't what he wanted. They must see him as a threat. They must take time to fight him.

Sheathing;his svrord, Sturm fit an arrow to his bow and took careful aim at the lead dragon. Patiently he waited, holding his breath. I cranrnat waste this, '~.e thought. Wait . . , wait . . .

The dragon was in range. Sturm's arrow„ sped through the morning brilliance. His aim was true. The arrow struck the blue dragon in the neck. It did little damage, bouncing off the dragon's blue scales, but the dragon reared its head in pain and irritation-slowing its flight. Quickly Sturm fired again, this time at the dragon flying directly behind the leader.

The arrow tore into a wing, and the dragon shrieked in rage. Sturm fired once more. This time the lead dragon's rider steered it clear. But the knight had accomplished what he set out to do: capture their attention, prove he was a threat, force them to fight him. He could hear the sound of running footsteps in the courtyard and the shrill squeak of the winches raising the portcullises.

Now Sturm could see the Dragon Highlord rise to his feet in the saddle. Built like a chariot, the saddle could accommodate its rider in a standing position for battle. The Highlord carried a spear in his gloved hand. Sturm dropped his bow. Picking up his shield and drawing his sword, he stood upon the wall, watching as the dragon flew closer and closer, its red eyes flaring, its white teeth gleaming.

Then-Ear away-Sturm heard the clear, clarion call of a j trumpet, its music cold as the air from the snow-covered mouetains of his homeland in the distance. Pure and crisp, the trumi pet call pierced his heart, rising bravely above the darkness death and despair that surrounded him.

Sturm answered the call with a wild battle-cry, raising sword to meet his enemy. The sunlight flashed red on his bla '~' The dragon swooped' in low.

Again the trumpet sounded, and again Sturm answered, voice rising in a shout. But this time his voice faltered, for s denly Sturm realized he had heard this trumpet before.

The dream!

Sturm stopped, gripping his s4,rord in a hand that wars ing inside its glove. The dragon loomed above him. Astride dragon was the Highlord, the horns of his mask nieke ' blood-red, his spear poised. and ready.

Fear knotted Sturm's stomach, hi., skin grew cold. The . call sounded a third tune. It had sounded three timies in dream, and .after the third .-.all he had fallen. The drag was averwhelmdng him.. Escape!'. his brain screamed. -

Escape! The dragons would swoop into the courtyard – the knights could not be ready yet, they would die, Laurana, Flint, and Tas …. The Tower would fall.

No! Sturm got hold of himself. Everything else was gone: his ideals, his hopes, his dreams. The Knighthood was collapsing. The Measure had been found wanting. Everything in his life was meaningless. His death must not be .so. He would buy Laurana tine, buy it with his life, since that was all he had to

give. And he would die according to the Code, since that was all he had to cling to.

Raising his sword in the air, he gave the knight's salute to an enemy. To his surprise, it was returned with grave dignity by