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Of course. When better to start? Who better to accomplish it?
Dayn s eyes looked past Kresean, into a world of snapping pennants
and trumpeting horns. He saw Kresean at the head of a great army, sun
sparkling off the perfectly polished armor of legions of Knights, a sea of
people standing on either side of the procession, clapping. Later that night,
in the great hall, he saw himself singing a song of bravery, self-sacrifice,
and victory as the Knights looked on. At the end, everyone assembled
would be stomping their feet and yelling.
Kresean clapped Dayn on the shoulder, jolting him from his reverie.
I ll do it! Dayn said.
That s a good lad. If I d had a dozen men as stouthearted as you, I
could ve brought the Knights of Takhisis to heel at the High Clerist s
Tower.
You were at the battle for the High Clerist s Tower?
Indeed. Kresean nodded.
Dayn reached for his satchel, in which he kept all his writing materials.
You must let me get everything down on
Lad. Kresean put a hand on Dayn s shoulder. How many times do I
have to tell you? If you want to write songs about defeat, go to Palanthas. I
hear there are types there that love to hear such things all day long.
Tragedies, they call them. But not in the countryside. Not here.
Right. Dayn nodded. Of course. So what do we do next, then?
Next? Kresean said, and that infectious smile curved his lips. Next
we kill ourselves a dragon.
* * * * *
The morning was quiet. Only the sound of the horses hooves on the
road accompanied Dayn and Kresean westward. Dayn remembered when
the birds would sing at this time just before sunrise. No more. Perhaps it
was too hot for them to bother.
Dayn had been up most of the night listening to Kresean s stories of the
Chaos War. His friend was not a Knight, merely a man-at-arms, but he had
risen quickly through the ranks as those ranks had died around him. The
bloodiest battle, so said Kresean, was the battle for the High Clerist s
Tower against the Knights of Takhisis, but that was nothing compared to
the terror of the Chaos army. Those abominations could kill a man without
shedding a single drop of his blood. Some howling horrors could suck the
wind from a man s lungs, make him die from suffocation. Others, inky
black, could pass over an entire troop of soldiers and swallow them whole.
The shadow creatures covered them and they disappeared. No screams. No
remains. Nothing.
What did you do? How did you survive? Dayn had asked,
thunderstruck by the terrifying nature of the Chaos hordes.
Kresean shrugged. I fought and fought. Those that could not be
harmed by weapons, we left to the mages. Those that could bleed, we
attacked. I owe a lot to the men around me. They saved my life more than
once. I wanted to do the same for them, but there is only so much one man
can do. Most of us who made it to the end were just plain lucky. I barely
remember the point at which I looked up and noticed that no one else was
fighting. No Chaos fiends, no friendly faces. It was only later I heard that
the leader of the Chaos hordes had been killed, and that was why the rest
lost heart. Otherwise, I believe we would all have died. You simply cannot
imagine
Even faced with that, you still fought on, Dayn whispered, more to
himself than to Kresean. But Kresean heard him.
What else could I do? My friends all died fighting. I was just waiting
for my turn, but my turn never came, Kresean said. He shook his head, as
if warding off a bad dream. That s why I want to help these folks with the
dragon. Somehow my life was spared. I ought to do something worthwhile
with it.
Now they were heading to a small town called Feergu, so small that
Dayne had never heard of it. It was up in the mountains, and Kresean had
got word of a young dragon in the vicinity killing off livestock. Then, a
week ago, a young child had turned up missing.
How are you going to kill the dragon? Dayn asked his newfound
friend as they rode along. Won t you need a dragonlance or something?
Aye, I wish I had one. If it was full grown, there would be no hope
without one, but if it is young, I should be able to take it.
You re really going to fight a dragon?
That s right, lad, and you re going to write about it. Kresean twisted
in his saddle, winked at Dayn.
That s beautiful.
Do you think that ll be something others would want to hear?
Kresean asked, smiling. Do you think that will raise their spirits?
Definitely. Dayn felt he would explode from excitement. Kresean
was right. This was the only way to write a ballad. Dayn would walk side
by side with Kresean. Dayn would be there when the blood was spilled,
when the danger ran high, when the victory was gained.
For the rest of the day, Kresean recounted tales from the Chaos War.
By that night Dayn s admiration for Kresean had grown a hundredfold.
* * * * *
Two days later Dayn and Kresean rode over the crest of a hill and
looked down at their destination. Feergu was a misty little hamlet nestled
in a valley. Behind the town, the mountains rose tall, disappearing into the
ever-present fog. Dayn felt trapped, hemmed in by those rocky giants. He
wondered why the villagers had decided to settle here in the first place.
The town was a small place by the side of a swiftly flowing mountain
river. It didn t even have a central square. There was just a smattering of
stone and wood houses.
Let me do the talking, Kresean said. I ve already spoken to the man
they sent out looking for help. His name s Chandael. He was the first to
tell me about the reward.
Reward? Dayn s brows furrowed. What reward?
They ve promised a reward to whoever kills the dragon, Kresean
said.
You didn t tell me we came to collect a reward.
Kresean clapped a hand on Dayn s back. You re a crusader, all right,
lad. Look at it this way. I know how much you love to sing. You d do it
for free, wouldn t you?
Yes.
You don t, do you?
No, the bard had to admit.
You don t have to feel like a thief, just because you earn your living.
These people want to give us something. It s rude to turn it down. If you
did someone a favor and they wanted you to stay for dinner, you wouldn t
refuse just because you d have done it for free, would you? No. You
accept their hospitality. Besides, we ve got expenses to pay for. A little
reward never hurts.
Well, I guess. I just thought [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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Of course. When better to start? Who better to accomplish it?
Dayn s eyes looked past Kresean, into a world of snapping pennants
and trumpeting horns. He saw Kresean at the head of a great army, sun
sparkling off the perfectly polished armor of legions of Knights, a sea of
people standing on either side of the procession, clapping. Later that night,
in the great hall, he saw himself singing a song of bravery, self-sacrifice,
and victory as the Knights looked on. At the end, everyone assembled
would be stomping their feet and yelling.
Kresean clapped Dayn on the shoulder, jolting him from his reverie.
I ll do it! Dayn said.
That s a good lad. If I d had a dozen men as stouthearted as you, I
could ve brought the Knights of Takhisis to heel at the High Clerist s
Tower.
You were at the battle for the High Clerist s Tower?
Indeed. Kresean nodded.
Dayn reached for his satchel, in which he kept all his writing materials.
You must let me get everything down on
Lad. Kresean put a hand on Dayn s shoulder. How many times do I
have to tell you? If you want to write songs about defeat, go to Palanthas. I
hear there are types there that love to hear such things all day long.
Tragedies, they call them. But not in the countryside. Not here.
Right. Dayn nodded. Of course. So what do we do next, then?
Next? Kresean said, and that infectious smile curved his lips. Next
we kill ourselves a dragon.
* * * * *
The morning was quiet. Only the sound of the horses hooves on the
road accompanied Dayn and Kresean westward. Dayn remembered when
the birds would sing at this time just before sunrise. No more. Perhaps it
was too hot for them to bother.
Dayn had been up most of the night listening to Kresean s stories of the
Chaos War. His friend was not a Knight, merely a man-at-arms, but he had
risen quickly through the ranks as those ranks had died around him. The
bloodiest battle, so said Kresean, was the battle for the High Clerist s
Tower against the Knights of Takhisis, but that was nothing compared to
the terror of the Chaos army. Those abominations could kill a man without
shedding a single drop of his blood. Some howling horrors could suck the
wind from a man s lungs, make him die from suffocation. Others, inky
black, could pass over an entire troop of soldiers and swallow them whole.
The shadow creatures covered them and they disappeared. No screams. No
remains. Nothing.
What did you do? How did you survive? Dayn had asked,
thunderstruck by the terrifying nature of the Chaos hordes.
Kresean shrugged. I fought and fought. Those that could not be
harmed by weapons, we left to the mages. Those that could bleed, we
attacked. I owe a lot to the men around me. They saved my life more than
once. I wanted to do the same for them, but there is only so much one man
can do. Most of us who made it to the end were just plain lucky. I barely
remember the point at which I looked up and noticed that no one else was
fighting. No Chaos fiends, no friendly faces. It was only later I heard that
the leader of the Chaos hordes had been killed, and that was why the rest
lost heart. Otherwise, I believe we would all have died. You simply cannot
imagine
Even faced with that, you still fought on, Dayn whispered, more to
himself than to Kresean. But Kresean heard him.
What else could I do? My friends all died fighting. I was just waiting
for my turn, but my turn never came, Kresean said. He shook his head, as
if warding off a bad dream. That s why I want to help these folks with the
dragon. Somehow my life was spared. I ought to do something worthwhile
with it.
Now they were heading to a small town called Feergu, so small that
Dayne had never heard of it. It was up in the mountains, and Kresean had
got word of a young dragon in the vicinity killing off livestock. Then, a
week ago, a young child had turned up missing.
How are you going to kill the dragon? Dayn asked his newfound
friend as they rode along. Won t you need a dragonlance or something?
Aye, I wish I had one. If it was full grown, there would be no hope
without one, but if it is young, I should be able to take it.
You re really going to fight a dragon?
That s right, lad, and you re going to write about it. Kresean twisted
in his saddle, winked at Dayn.
That s beautiful.
Do you think that ll be something others would want to hear?
Kresean asked, smiling. Do you think that will raise their spirits?
Definitely. Dayn felt he would explode from excitement. Kresean
was right. This was the only way to write a ballad. Dayn would walk side
by side with Kresean. Dayn would be there when the blood was spilled,
when the danger ran high, when the victory was gained.
For the rest of the day, Kresean recounted tales from the Chaos War.
By that night Dayn s admiration for Kresean had grown a hundredfold.
* * * * *
Two days later Dayn and Kresean rode over the crest of a hill and
looked down at their destination. Feergu was a misty little hamlet nestled
in a valley. Behind the town, the mountains rose tall, disappearing into the
ever-present fog. Dayn felt trapped, hemmed in by those rocky giants. He
wondered why the villagers had decided to settle here in the first place.
The town was a small place by the side of a swiftly flowing mountain
river. It didn t even have a central square. There was just a smattering of
stone and wood houses.
Let me do the talking, Kresean said. I ve already spoken to the man
they sent out looking for help. His name s Chandael. He was the first to
tell me about the reward.
Reward? Dayn s brows furrowed. What reward?
They ve promised a reward to whoever kills the dragon, Kresean
said.
You didn t tell me we came to collect a reward.
Kresean clapped a hand on Dayn s back. You re a crusader, all right,
lad. Look at it this way. I know how much you love to sing. You d do it
for free, wouldn t you?
Yes.
You don t, do you?
No, the bard had to admit.
You don t have to feel like a thief, just because you earn your living.
These people want to give us something. It s rude to turn it down. If you
did someone a favor and they wanted you to stay for dinner, you wouldn t
refuse just because you d have done it for free, would you? No. You
accept their hospitality. Besides, we ve got expenses to pay for. A little
reward never hurts.
Well, I guess. I just thought [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]