“My,” he said. “This garden is pretty. Are there fish in that pool? Could I catch one, do you think? It was certainly stuffy in that sack, and I much prefer riding a horse sitting up on the saddle instead of lying down. I have a sort of pain here in my side where something poked me. I would introduce myself,” he said contritely, apparently realizing that he wasn’t conforming to the mores of polite society, “but I’m suffering from”—he caught Gerard’s eye and said, with emphasis, “I am suffering from a severe bump on the head and I’m not quite certain who I am. You look awfully familiar to me. Have we met?”
Palin Majere had said nothing through this diatribe. His face had gone livid. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“Sir.” Gerard reached out a supporting hand. “Sir, you should sit down. You don’t look well.”
“I have no need of your support,” Palin snapped, shoving aside Gerard’s hand. He stared at the kender.
“Quit the nonsense,” he said coldly. “Who are you?”
“Who do you think I am?” the kender parried.
Palin seemed about to make an angry rejoinder, but he closed his lips over the words and, after drawing in a deep breath, he said tightly, “You look like a kender I once knew named Tasslehoff Burrfoot.”
“And you look sort of like a friend of mine named Palin Majere.” The kender was gazing at Palin with interest.
“I am Palin Majere. Who are—”
“Really?” The kender’s eyes opened wide. “You’re Palin? What happened to you? You look terrible! Have you been sick? And your poor hands. Let me see them. You said the Dark Knights did that to you? How? Did they smash your finger bones with a hammer, ‘cause that’s what it looks like—”
Palin drew his sleeves over his hands, moved away from the kender. “You say you know me, kender? How?”
“I just saw you at Caramon’s first funeral. You and I had a nice long chat, all about the Tower of High Sorcery at Wayreth and you being head of the White Robes, and Dalamar was there, and he was Head of the Conclave, and his girl friend Jenna was Head of the Red Robes—and—”
Palin frowned, looked at Gerard. “What is he talking about?”
“Don’t pay any attention to him, sir. He’s been acting crazy ever since I found him.” Gerard looked strangely at Palin. “You said he resembled ‘Tasslehoff.’ That’s who he claimed to be, until he started all this nonsense about having amnesia. I know it sounds odd, but your father also thought he was Tasslehoff.”
“My father was an old man,” Palin said, “and like many old men, he was probably reliving the days of his youth. And yet,” he added softly, almost to himself, “he certainly does look like Tasslehoff!”
“Palin?” A voice called to him from the far end of the garden.
“What is this Kelevandros tells me?”
Gerard turned to see an elven woman, beautiful as a winter’s twilight, walking toward them along the flagstones. Her hair was long and the color of honey mingled with sunlight. She was dressed in robes of a pearly diaphanous material, so that she seemed to be clothed in mist. Catching sight of Gerard, she regarded him in disbelief, too outraged at first to pay any attention to the kender, who was jumping up and down and waving his hand in excitement.
Gerard, confused and awe-struck, made an awkward bow.
“You have brought a Dark Knight here, Palin!” Laurana turned on him in anger. “To our hidden garden! What is the reason for this?”
“He is not a Dark Knight, Laurana,” Palin explained tersely, “as I told Kelevandros. Apparently, he doubts me. This man is Gerard uth Mondar, Knight of Solamnia, a friend of my father’s from Solace.”
Laurana looked at Gerard skeptically. “Are you certain, Palin? Then why is he wearing that foul armor?”
“I wear the armor for disguise only, my lady,” Gerard said. “And, as you see, I have taken the first opportunity I could to cast it aside.”
“This was the only way he could enter Qualinesti,” Palin added.
“I beg your pardon, Sir Knight,” Laurana said, extending a hand that was white and delicate. Yet, when he took it, he felt the calluses on her palm from her days when she had carried a shield and wielded a sword, the days when she had been the Golden General. “Forgive me. Welcome to my home.”
Gerard bowed again in profound respect. He wanted to say something graceful and correct, but his tongue felt too big for his mouth, just as his hands and feet felt big and clumsy. He flushed deeply and stammered something that died away in a muddle.
“Me, Laurana! Look at me!” The kender called out.
Laurana turned now to take a good look at the kender and appeared astonished at what she saw. Her lips parted, her jaw went slack. Putting her hand to her heart, she fell back a step, staring all the while at the kender.
“Alshana, Quenesti-Pah!” she whispered. “It cannot be!”
Palin was watching her closely. “You recognize him, as well.”
“Why, yes! It’s Tasslehoff!” Laurana cried dazedly. “But how—Where—”
“I am Tasslehoff?” The kender looked anxious. “Are you certain?”
“What makes you think you’re not?” Laurana asked.
“I always thought I was,” Tas said solemnly. “But no one else did, and so I thought perhaps I’d made a mistake. But if you say I am Tasslehoff, Laurana, I suppose that settles it. You of all people wouldn’t be likely to make a mistake. Would you mind if I gave you a hug?”
Tas flung his arms around Laurana’s waist. She looked confusedly over his head from Palin back to Gerard, asking silently for an explanation.
“Are you in earnest?” Gerard demanded. “Begging your pardon, my lady,” he added, flushing, realizing he’d come close to calling the Queen Mother a liar, “but Tasslehoff Burrfoot has been dead for over thirty years. How could this be possible? Unless—”
“Unless what?” Palin asked sharply.
“Unless his whole wild tale is somehow true.” Gerard fell silent, pondering this unforeseen development.
“But, Tas, where have you been?” Laurana asked, removing one of her rings from his hand just as the ring was disappearing down his shirt front. “As Sir Gerard said, we thought you were dead!”
“I know. I saw the tomb. Very nice.” Tas nodded. “That’s where I met Sir Gerard. I do think you might work to keep the grounds cleaner—all the dogs you know—and the tomb itself is not in good repair. It was hit by lightning when I was inside it. I heard the most tremendous boom, and some of the marble fell off. And it was awfully dark inside. A few windows would sort of brighten the place—”
“We should go somewhere to talk, Palin,” Gerard interrupted urgently. “Some place private.”
“I agree. Laurana, the Knight has brought other sad news. My father is dead.”
“Oh!” Laurana put her hand to her mouth. Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, I am sorry, Palin. My heart grieves for him, yet grief seems wrong. He is happy now,” she added in wistful envy. “He and Tika are together. Come inside,” she added, glancing about the garden where Tasslehoff was now wading in the ornamental pond, displacing the water lilies and terrorizing the fish. “We should not discuss this out here.” She sighed. “I fear that even my garden is not safe anymore.”
“What happened, Laurana?” Palin demanded. “What do you mean the garden is not safe?”
Laurana sighed, a line marred her smooth forehead: “I spoke to Marshal Medan at the masquerade last night. He suspects me of having dealings with the rebels. He urged me to use my influence to make them cease their acts of terror and disruption. The dragon Beryl is grown paranoid lately. She threatens to send her armies to attack us. We are not yet prepared if she should.”
“Pay no heed to Medan, Laurana. He is concerned only with saving his own precious skin,” said Palin.