"C'mon, Flint. We're all taking the oath," said the kender.
"Hmph." The old dwarf leaned over and set his age- and work-worn hands around the others. "Reorx be with you until we meet again," he said. His voice caught, and his friends knew him for the sentimental old fraud he was.
They left Flint at the table. The twins departed. Tanis, Kitiara, and Sturm strolled to the foot of the stairway. Tasslehoff trailed after them.
"I will say good night," said Sturm, with a glance at Tanis.
"But not good-bye." They clasped hands. "Kit, my horse is stabled at the farrier's. Will you meet me there?"
"That's good. My beast is there, too. Sunrise tomorrow?" Sturm nodded and looked around for Tas.
"Tas?" he called. "Where did he get to? I wanted to say good-bye."
Tanis gestured toward the inn above. "He went back up, I think." Sturm nodded and strode away into the cool night. Tanis and Kitiara were left with the crickets, which sang from the massive trees, a symphony of hundreds.
"Walk with me?" asked Tanis.
"Wherever you like," Kitiara replied.
They strolled a dozen paces from the inn before Kitiara took the opportunity to slip her arm through Tanis's. "I have a thought," she said slyly.
"What's that?"
"That you should stay with me tonight. It may be five years before we see each other again."
He halted and drew his arm free. "I cannot," said Tanis.
"Oh? And why not? There was a time not so long ago when you couldn't keep away from me."
"Yes, in between the times you spent far away, campaigning for whoever would pay you."
Kitiara lifted her chin. "I'm not ashamed of what I do."
"I don't expect you to be. The point is, I've come to realize more and more clearly that you and I are of two worlds, Kit. Worlds that can never hope to be reconciled."
"So what are you saying?"
"I had a birthday while you were gone. Do you know how old I am? Ninety-seven. Ninety-seven years old, Kit! If I were a human, I'd be a withered ancient. Or dead."
She eyed his willowy form appreciatively. "You're not withered or ancient."
"That's the point! My elvish blood will extend my life far beyond the normal span of humans." Tanis stepped closer and took her hands. "While you, Kit, will age and die."
Kitiara laughed. "Let me worry about that!"
"You won't. I know you, Kit. You're burning your youth out like a two-ended candle in a gale. How do you think I feel, knowing that you might be killed in battle for some petty warlord, while I would live on and on without you? It has to end, Kit. Tonight. Here and now."
Though it was dark, and the white moon, Solinari, was hidden by boughs of val1enwood Tanis saw the hurt in Kitiara's expression. It was there but an instant. She mastered it and forced a superior smile.
"Maybe it's just as well," she said. "I never did like being tied down. My poor fool of a mother was like that — she never could get along without a husband to tell her what's what. That's not my style. I take after my father. Burning in the wind, am I? So be it! I ought to thank you, Tanthalus Half-Elven, for holding a mirror up to the truth — "
He interrupted her tirade with a kiss. It was a gentle, brotherly kiss on the cheek. Kitiara glared.
"It's not what I want, Kit," Tanis said with great sorrow.
"It's how it must be."
She slapped him. Being the warrior she was, Kitiara's slap was no light tap. Tanis staggered and put a hand to his face. A thin smear of blood showed in the corner of his mouth. "Keep your pretty gestures," she spat. "Save them for your next lover, if you find one! Who will it be, Tanis? A full-blooded elf maiden? But no, the elves would despise you as a half-breed. You need a female version of yourself to love." She marched away, leaving Tanis staring. "You'll never find her!" Kitiara called from the darkness. "Never!"
The crickets had quieted under Kitiara's shouts. In their own time they began to sing again. Tanis stood alone in the night, finding no comfort in their song.
Chapter 2
The sky hab not yet lost its violet hue when Sturm reached the farrier's shop. Tirien, the farrier, had his establishment in a vallenwood tree. The winding ramp to Tirien's shop was doubly wide and strongly braced for horses. Tirien, ruddy-faced from leaning over forge fires, and with heavily muscled arms and shoulders from wielding his farrier's hammer, was already up and about when the knight arrived.
"Sturm!" he boomed. "Come in, lad. I'm just straightening some nails."
Tirien's helper, a boy named Mercot, plucked a red-hot spike from the furnace with a pair of tongs. He set the bent nail in the groove atop Tirien's anvil, and the brawny farrier smote it twice. Mercot flicked the straight nail into a bucket of water. A serpent's hiss and a wisp of steam arose.
"I need my horse, Tirien," said Sturm.
"Right. Mercot, fetch Master Brightblade's animal."
The boy's eyes widened. Rings of soot around them made him look like a startled owl.
"The chestnut gelding?" "Aye, and be quick about it!" said Tirien. To Sturm he continued, "Reshod him, as you asked. A good mount."
Sturm paid his bill while Mercot led Tallfox, his horse, to the lower platform. Sturm had bought Tallfox from a Quekiri tribesman only a few weeks before, and he was still learning the horse's manners. He shouldered his bedroll and pack and descended the ramp to where Mercot had tied his mount. Tirien's hammer rang out again, banging twisted scrap iron into arrowstraight horseshoe spikes. Sturm distributed his baggage over Tallfox's sides and rump.
He filled his water bottle and heard, "You're late."
Kitiara was slouched in a corner under the livery's eaves. She was wrapped to her ears in a red horse blanket.
"Am I?" asked Sturm.
"The sun is just rising. When did you get here!"
"Hours ago. I slept here," she said, casting off the blanket. Underneath, Kitiara still wore the clothes she'd had on the previous night. She stretched her arms and braced the knots out of her stiff back.
"Why in the gods' names did you sleep here?" asked Sturm. "Did you think I'd forget and leave without you?"
"Oh, not you, noble friend. It seemed like a good place to sleep, that's all. Besides, Pira needed a shoe repaired."
Sturm led Tallfox down to the ground. He swung into Tallfox's saddle and waited for his companion. Kitiara came loping down the ramp, leading a rather nondescript brown and white spotted mare.
"Something wrong?" she asked, mounting beside Sturm.
"I just imagined that you would prefer a fiery stallion for your mount," he replied. "This, ah, quaint animal doesn't suit you at all."
"This 'quaint animal' will still be walking a steady pace long after that beast of yours is no more than bones and hide," Kitiara said. Her fitful sleep had not improved her temperament since her parting with Tanis. "I've been on six campaigns with Pira, and she's always carried me home."
"My apologies."
They rode out of Solace, north by east. The new sun pierced the hills around Solace and warmed the air. Sturm and Kitiara breakfasted simply, on jerky and water. The fine dawn became an even finer morning, and Kitiara's spirits rose.
"I can't be unhappy on the road," she said. "There's too much to see and do."
"We should be on guard as well," Sturm said. "I heard travelers in the inn say there were brigands about."
"Tshaw. Peasants on foot may have reason to fear brigands, but two warriors, armed and mounted — it's the robbers who'd best be afraid!"
Sturm made polite assent, but still kept his eyes on the horizon and his sword hilt handy.
Their route was simple enough. Once clear of Solace's hills, the two would turn northwest and make for the coast. On the shore of the Straits of Schallsea was a small fishing port called Zaradene. From there Kitiara and Sturm could easily take passage to Caergoth in southern Thelgaard. North of Caergoth lay Solamnia proper, their ultimate destination. Such was their plan. But plans, as said the sage wizard Arcanist, are like figures drawn in sand: easily made and just as easily disturbed. The forests and hills of Abanasinia thinned with the miles. Kitiara filled the hours with tales of her past adventures.