Tanis the shadow years

22

Mentwiq stared in anguish as half-elf pushed his way to the clearing at the center of the crowd. "I know not the merit of these charges brought against the dwarf," Tanis said loudly, "but I have something to say that no one else has knowledge of." Mertwig flushed. He wanted to cry out, 'Traitor!" but he knew if he did so it would go badly with him. Instead, he hunched his shoulders and lowered his head as if to ward off a cold, hard wind. "You know little of me," Tanis conceded to the villagers of Ankatavaka. "And, to be honest, I know little of you. I do know sacrifice and bravery, though, and I saw it- and live to describe it-thanks to the dwarf who is now under suspicion."

Several elves murmured and shifted their weight. "The dwarf has lived here a long time," said an elf who had remained silent up until now. "Let's not be hasty." Several other villagers nodded their support.

Tanis waited for them to be silent. The late-afternoon sun bathed his hair in a reddish glow. His tooled leather also picked up an auburn warmth. Mertwig realized that Tanis would be far more comfortable tracking deer through the forest than addressing several hundred elves. Unlike Scowarr, Mertwig thought, the half-elf speaks out of duty, not love of attention.

Tanis plunged on. "Let it be known that Mertwig, the dwarf, came to my aid when I fought the giant spider. He saved my life at great risk to his own. For reasons he did not explain to me-modesty, perhaps? — he asked that I not give him his due."

Yeblidod glared around the group, daring them to criticize her beloved Mertwig.

"I break my word by saying this, for how can I remain silent?" Tanis continued. "I speak up for him now because such heroism seems hardly to match the picture of a thief that has been painted. I ask you all, would a thief risk his ill-gotten treasure-let alone his own life-to save a stranger from certain death?"

While the elves chattered among themselves, impressed by Tanis's argument, Mertwig heard Brandella say to Kishpa, "He speaks eloquently for your friend. Should you not do the same while you still have the chance7"

Mertwig moved his head slightly to catch the mage's response. Kishpa was crimson. "I warned Mertwig," the mage said sullenly. "He made his own choice."

"Then you think he's lying? You think he's guilty?"

"I… I don't know. I just-" The dwarf and Kishpa saw a change in Brandella's expression. The mage stopped speaking; Mertwig also felt his interest quicken. Something had agitated Brandella. He scanned the crowd and saw Tanis weaving his way in the pair's direction.

"What's wrong?" Kishpa asked his lover.

"Nothing." Brandella averted her face from Kishpa, unwittingly giving Mertwig a clear view of the heartache in her soft eyes.

"I know better," the mage insisted. "Please, what troubles you?"

She shivered. "I'll be fine. Just be still." Brandella made a gallant effort to control her emotions, calmly singing out, "Look, here comes Tanis," as the half-elf approached her on her other side. Tanis nodded pleasantly at Kishpa and then said something in Brandella's ear. Trembling ever so slightly, she nodded her approval, said a few words that the mage and the dwarf could not hear, and the half-elf quickly moved on.

Mertwig could see that all thoughts of his own dilemma had flown from Kishpa's mind. Something was happening between the half-elf and Brandella. And judging from Kishpa's set expression, the mage had vowed to find out exactly what it was.

"I've come to remind you of your promise," Tanis had whispered to Brandella. 'The battle is over. It is time for you to leave this place before you-and everything else here-vanishes. Meet me behind Reehsha's shack."

The weaver clung for a moment to the thought of staying behind, of disappearing when the old wizard could dream of her no more. There was something appealing in the notion of dying together in that way. But who would remember Kishpa if she were to die7 Who would keep his memory alive? She agreed to meet Tanis. Before the half-elf began pacing the garden, he had looked inside Reehsha's house, pleased and relieved to see that the fisherman was away. From where he stood, Tanis could not view the celebration on the beach, but he could see the shimmering waves of the Straits of Algoni. The sun soon would set in its depths, and the golden fire on the water's surface would disappear. He hoped he would vanish with Brandella just as quickly and easily. The half-elf suddenly felt his heart beating fast. Now that he was so close to fulfilling his promise to the old mage, he realized with a start, he had no idea how he was going to get back to his own time! Clotnik had told him that Kishpa would do it. But how? And when? Tanis was deep in thought when he heard a voice softly say, "I am here." She stood at the far side of the garden near the house. The setting sun's slanting rays caught her hair, giving her dark curls a becoming reddish glow- and setting Tanis's heart to an even greater pounding. He hurried to her.

Brandella had told Kishpa that she was tired and going home. If there was one thing he knew about the woman, it was that lies did not come naturally to her lips. Distrust, however, came rather easily to him. The mage had begun trailing her at a safe distance. But Scowarr saw Kishpa leaving the celebration and rushed to join him. Tve got one for you," the funny man chimed. "Have you heard about the mage who always says no?" "No." "Caught you!" the human declared. Kishpa saw Brandella making a sharp turn away from the path that led to her home, and he frowned. "Don't like that one, huh?" asked Scowarr. Kishpa didn't answer. He quickened his pace, making a sharp right turn and following after Brandella. "Here's another one, " Little Shoulders persisted, keeping pace with the mage.

"Not now," Kishpa snapped, waving Scowarr away.

"What did I do?" Scowarr asked, his countenance a study in injured innocence. The little human could have had kender blood, the mage thought.

"I'm sorry," Kishpa sighed. "I have something personal to attend to. Go back to the beach, and enjoy yourself."

Scowarr scooted around the mage and halted in front of him. His smile was ingratiating. "How can I have a good time if my favorite wizard is angry with me?"

Kishpa stopped reluctantly. "I'm not angry with you," he said with considerable irritation as he watched Brandella turn yet again. It appeared as if she was taking a very roundabout route to Reehsha's shack. Why would she do that? he wondered. He sidestepped Scowarr and lengthened his stride, the funny man dogging him. The mage hadn't gone far, however, before a shrill cry brought him to yet another abrupt stop.

"It's Yeblidod," said Scowarr, looking back over his shoulder.

The dwarf's woman came to them on unsteady legs and with eyes swollen from crying.

"Kishpa, come back," she begged. "Come back to the beach and help my Mertwig."

"New trouble?" the mage asked.

"He needs you," Yeblidod said. She pulled at his robes, grabbed at his arms, wailing in her fear and pain. Although Kishpa was desperate to follow after Brandella, he did not have such a hard heart that he could refuse his old friend's wife. Casting a troubled glance in the direction in which Brandella had gone, he sighed deeply and retraced his steps with Yeblidod.

"I can't just leave without saying good-bye," Brandella said mournfully, staring out into the glimmering sea. She and Tanis had been sitting so quietly that a small flock of gulls had come to rest on the sand at their feet, obviously hoping the two had brought food to share.

Tanis knew there might be little time left, but he also knew how hard it was to part from those you love without saying farewell. He thought about Kitiara's abrupt departure. The gulls' hard, black eyes reminded him of the angry gleam in Kit's eyes as she'd stormed away.

Brandella saw the sadness in his face and seemed to know him for a kindred spirit. "Is it the leaving that hurts the worst, or is it the lack of a good-bye?" she asked plaintively.

"Both." He laughed harshly, thinking of the good-bye slap he'd received from Kit. "But it's better, in the end," he added thoughtfully, "to tell someone how you feel and to be told the same. Without those words to hold onto-for good or ill-you're just adrift."

Brandella pulled her shawl tighter against the twilight chill. "Are you adrift?" she asked.

His silence appeared to be answer enough. Brandella' made a sudden move to take his hand, then seemed to rethink the movement and merely sat quietly.

The weaver was like no woman he had ever known, Tanis thought, but she could not be his. It was driving him mad.

She broke the awkward silence, asking, "What should I do?"

Swallowing hard, he suggested, "Leave Kishpa a note. That way he'll always have your words. Hell have something to hold on to."

She thought about it for a moment and then slowly, sadly, said, "Yes, that may be best. Otherwise, I might not be able to part with him at all."

At that moment, Tanis remembered the enchanted writing instrument that Kishpa had given him. A band of sligs had been after it, the mage had said. He was right: they wouldn't find it here. He fished it out of the inside pocket of his tunic and handed it to her. "This was once Kishpa's," he said with feeling. "He gave it to me so that I might leave it in this time and place. From his hand to my hand to yours, I give it to you to write him his farewell."

She took it lovingly. It was wooden and plain, but that didn't seem to matter to Brandella. Her Kishpa once had possessed it.

"Thank you," she said, fighting her emotions.

Embarrassed, the half-elf said, "I ask but one thing. When you finish your note, leave the writing instrument behind. Don't take it with you."

"I will do as you ask," she said, throwing her arms around the half-elf in gratitude, the movement scaring off the half-dozen seagulls at their feet.

The smell of her hair, and the touch of her hands on his back, made Tanis light-headed.

A moment later she pulled away awkwardly. "Are you all right?" he asked in a whisper.

She nodded her head but did not meet his eyes. "I will go and write the note now."

He agreed too heartily, he thought. "Yes. Good. When it is done, meet me by the east gate of the village."

She had barely left his side when he called to her, "Please hurry!" He wasn't sure if he said it because he feared time was running out or because he simply needed to see her again as soon as possible.

Scowarr didn't follow Kishpa and Yeblidod. He had watched Tanis, Kishpa, and Brandella, and had seen every move they had made. The funny man was a jester, but no fool; he sensed trouble was brewing, and he figured that as the savior of Ankatavaka, he had a duty to try to stop it. The arrival of Yeblidod had been his great good fortune. But Kishpa would not be put off for long. Scowarr figured to handle this himself, now, quickly, before the great victory of which he was so grand a part was marred by betrayal and murder.

Scowarr followed the path that Brandella had taken, hoping that his worst fears would not be realized. When he circled around Reehsha's shack, he discovered that they had.