Dragonlance 03 - Dragons of Spring Dawning Read Online Free PDF Page B

escape. The look on his face had not been fearful or dull or uncaring. It had been, what? Resigned! That was it! As if he knew the fate that awaited him and went ahead anyway. Sure enough, just as Berem and Eben reached the gates, hundreds of tons of rocks had cascaded down from the gate-blocking mechanism, burying them beneath boulders it would take a dragon to lift. Both bodies were lost, of course.
    Or at least Eben’s body was lost. Only weeks later, during the celebration of the wedding of Goldmoon and Riverwind, Tanis and Sturm had seen Berem again—alive! Before they could catch him, the man had vanished into the crowd. And they had not seen him again. Not until Tanis found him three, no, four, days ago, calmly sewing a sail on this ship.
    Berem steered the ship on its course, his face filled with peace. Tanis leaned over the ship’s side and retched.
    Maquesta said nothing to the crew about Berem. In explanation of their sudden departure, she said only that she had received word that the Dragon Highlord was a bit too interested in their ship, it would be wise to head for the open seas. None of the crew questioned her. They had no love for the Highlords, and most had been in Flotsam long enough to lose all their money anyway.
    Nor did Tanis reveal to his friends the reason for their haste. The companions had all heard the story of the man with the green gemstone and, though they were too polite to say so (with the exception of Caramon), Tanis knew they thought he and Sturm had drunk one too many toasts at the wedding. They did not ask for reasons why they were risking their lives in the rough seas. Their faith in him was complete.
    Suffering from bouts of seasickness and torn by gnawing guilt, Tanis hunched miserably upon the deck, staring out to sea. Goldmoon’s healing powers had helped him recover somewhat, though there was apparently little even clerics could do for the turmoil in his stomach. But the turmoil in his soul was beyond her help.
    He sat upon the deck, staring out to sea, fearing always to see the sails of a ship on the horizon. The others, perhapsbecause they were better rested, were little affected by the erratic motion of the ship as it swooped through the choppy water, except that all were wet to the skin from an occasional high wave breaking over the side.
    Even Raistlin, Caramon was astonished to see, appeared quite comfortable. The mage sat apart from the others, crouched beneath a sail one of the sailors had rigged to help keep the passengers as dry as possible. The mage was not sick. He did not even cough much. He just seemed lost in thought, his golden eyes glittering brighter than the morning sun that flickered in and out of view behind the racing storm clouds.
    Maquesta shrugged when Tanis mentioned his fears of pursuit. The
Perechon
was faster than the Highlords’ massive ships. They’d been able to sneak out of the harbor safely, the only other ships aware of their going were pirate ships like themselves. In that brotherhood, no one asked questions.
    The seas grew calmer, flattening out beneath the steady breeze. All day, the storm clouds lowered threateningly, only to be finally blown to shreds by the freshening wind. The night was clear and starlit. Maquesta was able to add more sail. The ship flew over the water. By morning, the companions awakened to one of the most dreadful sights in all of Krynn.
    They were on the outer edge of the Blood Sea of Istar.
    The sun was a huge, golden ball balanced upon the eastern horizon when the
Perechon
first sailed into the water that was red as the robes the mage wore, red as the blood that flecked his lips when he coughed.
    “It is well-named,” Tanis said to Riverwind as they stood on deck, staring out into the red, murky water. They could not see far ahead. A perpetual storm hung from the sky, shrouding the water in a curtain of leaden gray.
    “I did not believe it,” Riverwind said solemnly, shaking his head. “I heard William tell of