Steel and Stone
Authors: Ellen Porath
Young Haudo crept along the back of the ridge, remembering everything his father had told him about tracking game. Even before he slipped his head above the ridge, he smelled the acrid stench of the minotaurs. He caught, also, the greasy fish smell of the thanoi, the walrus men. And Haudo smelled something else—a nasty odor of garbage and rancid meat. Then he peered at his village, barely keeping from coughing in the smoky haze, and his breath caught in his throat. “Two-headed beasts!” he whispered.
He wanted to jump back, to avoid seeing the image he knew would never vanish from his mind. His kinsmen, his friends, lay sprawled in death on the blood-soaked snow. Minotaurs, walrus men, and the two-headed monsters brought body after body forth from iceblock huts and skin tents. A few bodies were still twitching. An old man moaned, and one of the two-headed brutes hurried over, waving a spiked club over its head.
Overseeing it all was the robed figure of a man, silhouetted against the southern sky.…
®
Saga
Chronicles Trilogy
Dragons of Autumn Twilight
Dragons of Winter Night
Dragons of Spring Dawning
Tales Trilogy
The Magic of Krynn
Kender, Gully Dwarves, and Gnomes
Love and War
Heroes Trilogy
The Legend of Huma
Stormblade
Weasel’s Luck
Preludes Trilogy
Darkness and Light
Kendermore
Brothers Majere
Meetings Sextet
Kindred Spirits
Wanderlust
Dark Heart
The Oath and the Measure
Steel and Stone
The Companions (January 1993)
Legends Trilogy
Time of the Twins
War of the Twins
Test of the Twins
Tales II Trilogy
The Reign of Istar
The Cataclysm
The War of the Lance (Nov. 1992)
Heroes II Trilogy
Kaz, the Minotaur
The Gates of Thorbardin
Galen Beknighted
Preludes II Trilogy
Riverwind, the Plainsman
Flint, the King
Tanis, the Shadow Years
Elven Nations Trilogy
Firstborn
The Kinslayer Wars
The Qualinesti
The Art of the DRAGONLANCE Saga
The Atlas of the DRAGONLANCE World
To all who have dared to enter Darken Wood,
this book is dedicated
With thanks to the following: Mary Kirchoff, for taking a chance on me; Pat McGilligan, for his blunt criticism; J. Eric Severson, for the book title and many nifty ideas; Bill Larson, for his careful editing; and B. Wolfgang Hoffmann, for the author photo.
STEEL AND STONE
D
RAGONLANCE
®
Meetings Sextet • Volume Five
©1992 TSR, Inc.
All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Published by Wizards of the Coast LLC. Hasbro SA,
represented by Hasbro Europe, Stockley Park, UB11 1AZ. UK
.
D
RAGONLANCE
, Wizards of the Coast, D&D, their respective logos, and TSR, Inc. are trademarks of Wizards of the Coast LLC in the U.S.A. and other countries. All other trademarks are the property of their respective owners.
All Wizards of the Coast characters and their distinctive likenesses are property of Wizards of the Coast LLC.
Cover art by: Clyde Caldwell
eISBN: 978-0-7869-6327-0
640-A1584000-001-EN
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v3.1
PROLOGUE
F
OG HUNG LOW OVER THE DAMP GROUND, CLINGING
to scattered crusts of dirty snow as night eased into predawn gray. A black-haired woman, mist curling around her knee-high ebony boots, slapped canvas tents with an ungloved hand as she wove through a nearly silent camp. A few dozen soldiers were already awake; they looked up and smiled as she passed.
“It’s time to earn your pay, you lazy meadow slugs,” she snapped at the slumbering men. “Get moving!” In her wake, curses resounded. Soldiers verbally abused the woman’s ancestors as the men groped for weapons, boots, and helmets. One by one they opened tent flaps and emerged into the winter chill. The soldiers
fastened woolen cloaks at their necks and swore at the weather’s bite.
“By the gods, couldn’t the crazy Valdane and his accursed mage have waited until summer?” a bearded man complained, glaring over a red nose and sandy mustache toward two large tents erected uphill from the main camp, a hundred paces away.
“Quiet, Lloiden!” his companion cautioned. An elderly-looking man had appeared suddenly in the opening of the smaller of the two tents and now fastened a dark gaze directly on the pair of complainers. The old man’s black robe was tied at the waist with a silken rope, from which hung a dozen gathered pouches. Gaunt fingers toyed with one pouch, and Lloiden’s companion went pale. He again gestured to his tentmate to remain silent.
