“Let’s get on with it, I say,” said one. “I don’t want to spend another night in this death’s den.”
“You’re right, there,” said another. “Let’s march on Solanthus. This minute. I’d welcome a fight with an enemy who’s got flesh and blood in him.”
“Two hundred of us, and we’re going to take Solanthus,” said a third.
“Rot! If there were two hundred thousand we couldn’t take that city, even with the help of the One God. It’s got walls the size of Mt. Nevermind. Infernal devices, too, or so I’ve heard. Giant ballista that can shoot dragons out of the skies.”
“Like you said we’d never take the elf city,” said one of his comrades irritably. “Remember, boys? ‘It’ll take two hundred thousand of us to whip those pointy-ears.’ “
The others laughed, but it was nervous laughter, and no one laughed too long or too loudly.
“We’re off again,” said one, rising to his feet.
The others stood up, moved back into formation. Those in front turned to say something to those in back.
“Keep watch for the kender. Pass it on.” The word came down the line.
“Keep watch for the kender.”
The soldiers in back waited impatiently for those in front to start moving. Finally, with a sluggish lurch, the line of men began to advance, and they were soon lost to Tasslehoff’s eyes and ears.
“ ‘Keep watch for the kender,’ ” Tas repeated. “Hah! Those must be Dalamar’s minions. I was wrong about the fish part. I’ll just wait here until I’m sure they’re gone. I wonder who this One God is? It must very dull, to have only one god. Unless, of course, it was Fizban, but then there probably wouldn’t be any world, because he’d keep misplacing it, just like he misplaces his hat.
“Uh, oh!” The kender gave a stifled groan, noting that the troops were heading in the identical direction his finger had pointed. “They’re going north. That means I have to go some other direction. The opposite direction, in fact.”
Which was how Tasslehoff came at last to find his way out of Nightlund and on the road leading to Solanthus—proving yet again that the kender body compass works.
Arriving at the great walled fortress city of Solanthus, Tasslehoff walked around the walls until he came to the front entrance. There he stopped to rest himself a bit and to watch with interest the crowds of people coming and going. Those entering the city stood in a long line that moved very slowly. People stood in the road, fanning themselves and talking to their neighbors. Farmers dozed on their carts, their horses knowing enough to move forward as the line inched along. Soldiers posted outside the walls kept watch to make certain that the line continued to move, that no one grew impatient and attempted to shove his way to the front. No one seemed too upset by the delay but appeared to expect it and to take in stride.
Every person who entered the city was being questioned by the guards. Pouches were searched. Wagons were searched. If the wagon carried goods, the goods were examined by the guards, who loosened bags, pried up the tops of crates, and poked pitchforks into loads of hay. Once he was familiar with the rules, fully intending to comply with them, Tasslehoff took his place at the very end of the line.
“Hullo, how are you?” he said to a large matronly woman carrying an enormous basket of apples, who was gossiping with another large woman, carrying a basket of eggs. “My name is Tasslehoff Burrfoot. My, this is a long line. Is there any other way in?”
The two turned around to look at him. Both scowled at him fiercely, and one actually shook her fist at him.
“Keep away from me, you little vermin. You’re wasting your time. Kender aren’t allowed inside the city.”
“What a very unfriendly place,” Tasslehoff observed and walked off. He did not go far, however, but sat down in the shade of a tree near the front entrance to enjoy his apple. As he ate, he observed that while no kender could be seen entering the city, two were seen leaving it, accompanied by city guards.
Tas waited until the kender had picked themselves up, dusted themselves off, and gathered up their pouches. Then he began to wave and shout. Pleased as always to see a fellow kender, the two came running over to greet him.
“Leafwort Thumbfloggin,” said one, extending his hand.
“Merribell Hartshorn,” said the other, extending her hand.
“Tasslehoff Burrfoot,” said Tas.
“No, really?” said Merribell, highly pleased. “Why I met you just last week. You don’t look the same though. Are you doing something different with your hair?”
“What have you got in your pouches?” asked Leafwort.
In the ensuing excitement of answering that interesting question, followed by Tas’s asking them what they had in their pouches and a general round of pouch-dumping and object-trading, Tas explained that he wasn’t one of the innumerable Tasslehoffs wandering about Ansalon, he was the original. He was particularly proud to show off the pieces of the Device of Time Journeying, complete with the story of how he and Caramon had used it to travel back to the past and how it had taken him inadvertently to the Abyss and how it had brought him forward to a future that wasn’t this future but some other.
The two kender were impressed and quite happy to trade their most valuable objects for pieces of the device. Tas watched the pieces vanish into their pouches without much hope that they would stay there. Still it was worth a shot. Finally, when everything had been traded that could possibly be traded and all the stories told that could possibly be told, he told them why he was in Solanthus.
“I’m on a quest,” Tas announced, and the other two kender appeared quite respectful. “I’m searching for a Solamnic Knight.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” said Leafwort, jerking a thumb behind him at the city walls. “There’re more Knights in there than you can shake a stick at.”
“What do you plan on doing once you’ve got one?” Merribell wondered. “They don’t look like they’d be much fun to me.”
“I’m searching for a specific Knight,” Tas explained. “I had him once, you see, but I lost him, and I was hoping he might have come here, this being a place where Knights tend to congregate, or so I’ve heard. He’s about so high”—Tas jumped to his feet, stood on his tiptoes and raised his arm—”and he’s extremely ugly, even for a human, and he has hair the color of Tika’s corn bread muffins.”
The two kender shook their heads. They’d seen lots of Knights—they described several—but Tas didn’t have any use for them.
“I have to find my own,” he said, squatting down comfortably again.
“He and I are great friends. I guess I’ll just go look for myself. These ladies told me— I say, would anyone care for an apple? Anyhow two ladies told me that kender aren’t allowed inside Solanthus.”
“That’s not true. They’re really quite fond of kender in Solanthus,”
Merribell assured him.
“They just have to say that to keep up appearances,” added Leafwort.
“They don’t put kender in jail in Solanthus,” Merribell continued enthusiastically. “Imagine that! The moment they catch—er— find you, they give you an armed escort through the town—”
“—so that you can see all the sights—”
“—and they throw you out the front gate. Just like a regular person.”
Tasslehoff agreed that Solanthus sounded like a wonderful place. All he had to do was to find a way inside. His new friends provided him with several entrances that were not known to the general public, adding that it was best to have an alternate route in case the first he tried happened to have been shut down by the guards.