The War Of The Lance (33 page)

"I saw a dozen good dragons fall in the first pass, wings seared off by fiery breath,
wounds gaping in their flesh, ripped by the lightning bolts of the blue. Silvara wheeled
sharply, ducking below the crackling lightning bolt spit by a great blue dragon. I raised
my lance, tearing

the wyrm's wing as it whirled past. The two dragons met with a brutal crash, slashing at
each other with rending talons as we plummeted toward the ground.

“The dragons split apart at the last instant, both of them torn and bleeding. Silvara
struggled to regain altitude. I lost sight of my enemy in the chaos of the smoky sky, but
drove my lance through the belly of a small red that attacked us from overhead. Mortally
wounded, the dragon and its doomed rider plunged to earth, bellowing smoke and fire in a
spiralling trail.”

Yet such victories were rare. Gilthanas saw many corpses of silver and copper sprawled
across the landscape below. Finally, after a half hour of savage battle, the elf was
forced to accept the grim truth: the good dragons had lost this fight. More than half of
them had perished.

Hellish fireballs spewed by the red dragons continued to erupt. Crackling bolts of
lightning spit by the blues still crisscrossed the skies, rending copper wings and
scorching scales of silver. The numbers made the outcome inevitable, and ultimately
Gilthanas and Silvara were forced to order the surviving good dragons to retreat.

During the course of the screaming fight in the sky, Bakaris's ground troops quickly
reached the bank of the ford. Hordes of goblins and hobgoblins, mounted upon howling
wolves, immediately charged across the dry passage.

Sir Markham, commanding a large force of the knights, watched them approach. He writes:
“The frenzied din of the snarling canines and their equally vociferous riders rolled
across us - a cacophony of chaos. They rushed forward with astonishing speed, splashing
through the shallow pools that were the only remnants of the once- flooding Vingaard.”

Markham held his riders back from the west bank of the ford. When the charging wolfpack
reached the halfway mark of the crossing, the knight gestured to his signalmen. Trumpets
brayed, and a line of armored horses thundered toward the riverbank. The goblins and their
snarling wolves scrambling onto the near bank were met by the crushing advance of the
heavily barded warhorses and fully armored cavalry. Markham continues:

"My horse pitched and bucked in the midst of a swirling melee. Wolves snapped at my
steed's flanks, drawing

blood in many places. But a number of the beasts fell with skulls crushed or backs broken
by the powerful kicks of the charger's hooves.

"No sooner had the snarling wolves launched into desperate battle with my knights than
three thousand kapak draconians surged across the ford in support. Shrieking and hissing
in their hideous tongue, the reptilian scourges flapped their wings madly, hastening the
speed of their advance into an unnerving rush.

“Their charge was met by the pikemen of Palanthas, who stood in a three-rank line along
the shore. The steely heads of their weapons ripped into the lizardlike attackers. Though
the momentum of the charge staggered the line with its impetus, the men held against a
breach. Savage and snarling, the formation of draconians crowded against the bank of the
ford.”

Bakaris here began to reveal his own plan - he hurled the rest of the draconian forces
into the attack, holding only his companies of ogres in reserve. At the same time, the
evil wyrms appeared in the skies overhead, having defeated the silver and copper dragons.
The Dragonarmy general mounted his own dragon - a powerful blue.

Before he rode aloft he sent his field report by courier to Kitiara.

“The time to finish this is NOW - we own the skies over the field! I join my dragonriders,
and we shall waste no time in driving onto the Knights of Solamnia, and the pathetic
footmen of Palanthas and Ergoth - all of whom stand defenseless against the onslaught!”

Markham's knights had finally driven the last of the wolfriders back; nearly half of the
vicious carnivores and their riders lay dead on the riverbank. Now, however, a newer - and
far greater - menace approached.

The knight looked upward in raw, frustrated fury as he saw the green and blue forms fill
the sky overhead - a sky devoid of metallic colors. The evil serpents tucked their wings,
and Markham felt that every one of the beasts glared straight at HIM. The wyrms fanned
into a broad line, spreading to strike the entire army.

The lines of pikemen and knights on the riverbank wavered as the dragonfear swept across
them. Markham cursed and shouted, even using the flat of his sword to try and muster

shaken footmen - but to no avail. Whole companies broke, fleeing blindly away from the
ford, panicked beyond reason by the great, circling serpents above. Fireballs of
dragonbreath and searing lightning bolts

landed with enormous blasts, eliminating entire ranks and melting the stony bank. Screams
of the dying mingled with the terrified wails of panicked men - veterans and rank recruits
alike quailed at the dreadful

attack. In mere seconds, most of the Army of Solamnia had broken and fled, leaving the
ford unguarded.

Excellency, I must here remark upon the fact that, if the evil dragons had not expended so
much of their limited breath weapons against Gilthanas and his flight, the carnage would
have been many times worse. Nevertheless, in moments, the Army of Solamnia teetered at the
brink of total collapse.

Laurana, meanwhile had flown southward with all speed - the timing of her activities was
crucial. Soon the flight of good dragons and their Golden General came to the Narrows,
where the ice dam had swelled from the overnight pressure of the great river. A vast new
lake spread across the plains to each side. Before the huge sheet of white, glistening in
the sunlight, but not melting in the cool spring air, Laurana and Quallathon settled to
earth. The other golds and brass dragons also dropped, landing on the rocky riverbed. The
bronze dragons circled overhead, watchful for any interference from the dragonarmies.

Again the Golden General turned the breath of her dragons onto the

River Vingaard - but this time in the form of heat. Explosive fireballs belched forth from
the golds; from the brass came blistering waves of

scorching wind. The searing breath weapons swept across the frozen surface, assailing with
arcane heat the same waters that had earlier

suffered the onslaught of cold. With convulsive force the great sheets of ice cracked and

splintered, shifting and breaking under the rapid change of temperature. Huge chunks broke
free, white mountains tumbled into the surging water. With a rush, the dam broke away. The
waters of the Vingaard thundered forth, many times more powerful than they had been even
at the height of the spring flood.

*****

The huge, newly-formed lake roared through its new outlet, carrying massive pieces of ice,
like jagged daggers, in the forefront of the advancing tide. Rocks that had rested in the
river bed for a century ripped

free in the space of a minute, rumbling along with the flow like great engines of war.

Above the water flew the dragons of gold, brass, and bronze. They

soared northward now, racing the torrent - but only barely matching it in speed. Thus,
both the waters and the good dragons reached Margaard

Ford at the same time, little more than two hours after the dam had collapsed.

Nevertheless, according to Gilthanas, the situation stood at the brink

of disaster. His silvers still wheeled in the sky, forced back from the fight - and sadly
reduced in numbers. He had all but given up hope of victory,

when he saw the glint of sunlight on gilded wings. Laurana's mighty gold. dragons bellowed
a challenge, echoed by a

hundred throats of gold and brass and bronze. And below the wings of gleaming metal surged
a maelstrom of frothing white, capped by the icebergs and boulders.

The waters swept through Margaard Ford with all the impact of a

tidal wave, drowning and crushing the enemy troops trapped there. At the same time, the
dragons of Laurana and Gilthanas tore into the blues and

reds. The evil serpents fought desperately, but the vengeful attackers swiftly slashed the
enemy from the skies in the greatest aerial melee of the war. By my calculations,
Excellency, it seems likely that nearly four hundred dragons fought in the air over
Margaard Ford!

It is worth noting, Excellency, that Bakaris himself was taken captive

in this airborne clash. He ended the fight clinging for his life to the mane of a bronze
dragon after his own mount had fallen. It was the famed hill

dwarf Flint Fireforge, together with his squire, who rode the bronze. This was Fireforge's
last flight on dragonback. He vowed everafter to keep his boots firmly on the ground.

The waters of the Vingaard slowly settled to their normal levels. We'll never know how
many bodies they carried along their route to Kalaman and the sea. The few surviving
troops belonged to the Blue Wing, and they hastened back to Dargaard Keep, where the Dark
Lady still held her fortress.

The last of the dragonarmies had been driven from the plains, and Laurana slowed the pace
of her march somewhat, to rest her weary army as it at last approached long-forsaken
Kalaman. That city had endured a bleak winter of isolation and siege, and so it was only
proper that their liberator and heroine should pass through the city gates to commence the
Festival of Spring Dawning.

That event concludes the tale of the Vingaard Campaign. I hope Your Grace will forgive the
addition of several of my conclusions that, I feel certain, can be comfortably established
within the boundaries of objectivity.

It is interesting to note that the Dark Lady, Highlord Kitiara, was sentenced to death by
Lord Ariakus for her failures in this campaign. When he arrived at Dargaard to carry out
the sentence, however, Kitiara was able to persuade the Emperor that much of the campaign
had

passed according to her “plan.” It is true that her life was spared, but my own

suspicion is that this is due more to her “friend,” the Death Knight Lord Soth, than to
any lapse in Ariakus's judgment. It is hard to imagine the campaign being viewed by the
Emperor as anything but a monstrously disastrous defeat.

In retrospect, Grand Master Gunthar Uth Wistan's appointment of Laurana as the army's
commander stands clearly vindicated. The Golden General proved capable of initiative and
audacity far beyond what any Knight of Solamnia could have mustered. In fact, her use of
dragon breath for strategic purposes (damming the river) clearly shows how she managed to
outwit even her battle- seasoned opponents - no Highlord used the dragons for any purpose
other than a tactical application on the battlefield.

In conclusion, Lauralanthalasa of Qualinesti must clearly stand alongside Kith-Kanan,
Vinas Solamnus, and Huma himself as one of the greatest generals of Krynn.

In gratitude, I shall remain heretofore, Foryth Teel, Senior Scribe of Astinus

Margaret Weis AND Tracy Hickman

So I guess you're wondering why I'm telling you this, since I promised not to. I'm sure
Tanis wouldn't mind, seeing that it's you. I mean, you've heard the other stories, all
about the War of the Lance and the Heroes of the Lance (of which I, Tasslehoff Burrfoot,
am one) and how ten years ago we defeated the Dark Queen and her dragons. This is just one
more story, one that never was told. As to why it was never told, you'll find that out
when I get around to the part about promising Fizban.

It all began about a month ago. I was traveling up the Vingaard River, heading for
Dargaard Keep. You've heard the stories about Dargaard Keep, how it's cursed and Lord

Soth is supposed to haunt it. I hadn't seen Lord Soth in a while - he's a death knight and
while we're not exactly friends, he is what you might call a close personal acquaintance.
I was thinking about him one night and how he very nearly killed me once. (I don't harbor
a grudge; death knights have to do these things, you see.) And it occurred to me that he
might be bored, what with having nothing to do for the past ten years, ever since we
defeated the Dark Queen, except haunt people.

Anyway, I thought I'd go find Lord Soth and fill him in on Recent Events and maybe he'd
glare at me with his fiery eyes, and make me go all wonderfully cold and shivery inside.

I was on my way to Dargaard Keep when I stopped over in a little town that I can show you
on my map, though I can't remember the name. They have a very nice jail there. I know,
because I was spending the night in it, having become involved in an argument with a
butcher over a string of sausages that had followed me out of his shop.

I tried to point out to the butcher that they must be magical sausages, because I couldn't
think of any other way they would have ended up trailing after me like that. I thought
he'd be pleased, you know, to realize he had the power to make magical sausages. And if I
did eat two of them, it was just to find out if they did anything magical in the stomach.
(They did, but I don't think that counts as magic. I'll have to ask Dalamar.) To make a
long story short, he was not pleased to hear he had magical sausages and I was taken away
to jail.

Things have a way of working out, though, as my grandmother Burrfoot used to say. There
were a whole lot of other kender in the jail. (Quite a remarkable coincidence, don't you
think?) We had a very agreeable time together, and I caught up on all the news of
Kendermore.

And I found out that someone had been looking for me!

He was a friend of a friend of a friend and he had an important message for me. Just
think! An Important Message. Kender all over Ansalon had been told to give it to me if
they ran into me. This was the Important Message.

“Meet me at the Silver Dragon Mountain during this anniversary. Signed, FB.”

I must say that I thought the message a bit confused, and I still think it probably lost
something over having been passed around by so many people. But my friends assured me that
was exactly how they'd heard it or close enough as not to make any difference. I knew
right off who FB was, of course, and you must, too. (Tanis did. I could tell that from the
groan he gave when I mentioned it.) And I knew where the Silver Dragon Mountain was. I'd
been there before, with Flint and Laurana and Gilthanas and Theros Ironfeld and Silvara
before we knew she was a silver dragon herself. You remember that story, don't you?
Astinus wrote it all down and called it Dragons of Winter Night.

I was puzzling over this message and wondering what anniversary it was talking about, when
the kender who gave it to me said that there was another part to it.

“Repeat the name Fizban backwards three times and clap your hands.”

That sounded like magic to me and I am extremely fond of magic. But, knowing Fizban as I
did, I thought it wise to take precautions. I told the other kender in the cell with me
that this message was from a rather fuddled old wizard and that the spell might be Quite
Interesting and that maybe I should wait until we were all out of jail in the morning.

But the other kender said that, while it would be a shame to blow up this nice jail, if I
did blow it up, they didn't want to miss it. They all gathered around and I began.

“Nabzif, Nabzif, Nabzif!” I said quickly, kind of holding my breath, and I clapped my
hands.

Poof!

Once I cleared away the smoke, I discovered I was holding a scroll. I unrolled it quickly,
thinking it might be another spell, you see. But it wasn't. The other kender were
considerably disappointed and rather miffed that I hadn't blown up either the jail or
myself. They went back to comparing jails in other parts of Solamnia. I read what I was
holding in my hands.

It turned out to be an invitation. At least I think that's what it was. It was hard to
tell, what with all the burn

holes and smudges and smears of what smelled like grape jelly.

The writing was very pretty and elaborate. I can't copy it, but this is what it said (I'm
including smudges and blots):

THE

A CELEBRATION OF THE TENTH ANNIVERSARY OF

(Blot) OF THE DRAGONL (smudge) TO BE HELD AT THE

SILVER DRAGON MOUNTAIN YULETIME.

HERO OF THE LANCE YOUR PRESENCE IS MOST EARNESTLY

REQUESTED. WE HONOR THE KNIGHT OF SOLAMNIA

WHO FIRST DID BATTLE WITH THE (blob, blot), SIR (smear and tarbean tea-stain) OWER

It was signed LORD GUNTHAR UTH WISTAN.

Well, of course, this explained everything (not counting the blots). The knights were
holding a celebration in honor of something, probably the War of the Lance. And, since I'm
one of the Heroes, I was invited! This was incredibly exciting. I put off my visit to Lord
Soth (I hope he understands, if he reads this), let myself out of jail with a key I found
in my pocket, and headed immediately for Silver Dragon Mountain.

It used to be you couldn't find Silver Dragon Mountain, but after the War, the knights
turned it into a Monument and fixed the roads so that they could get to it easier. They
left the Ruined Keep ruined. I traveled past it and wandered through the Woods of Peace
awhile, then I stopped to admire the hot springs that boil just like Tika's tea kettle and
I crossed the bridge where I saw the statues that looked like my friends, only they were
just statues now. Probably because of the Monument. And then I came to Foghaven Vale.

Foghaven Vale has a lot to do with the rest of my story, so I'll tell you about it, in
case you've forgotten from the last time I was there.1 The Hot Springs mixing with the
water of the Cool Lake makes fog so thick that it's hard to see your topknot in front of
your nose. No one used to

know where this Vale was, a long time ago, except Silvara and the other silver dragons,
who guarded Huma's Tomb, the final resting place of a truly great knight from long, long
ago. His tomb is there, only he isn't.

At the north end of Foghaven Vale stands Silver Dragon Mountain. You can get into the
mountain through a secret tunnel inside Huma's Tomb. I know, because I accidentally fell
into it and got sucked up the statue dragon's windpipe. That's where I found Fizban after
he was dead, only he wasn't.

And it was in this mountain that Theros Ironfeld forged the dragonlances. And that's why
it's a Monument.

Every year at Yuletime the knights come to the Silver

1 Dragons OF WINTER NIGHT, Dragonlance Chronicles, Volume 2. Available in the Library at
Palanthas, which is a very nice city to visit, especially since they've cleaned up after
the dragons. The library is one block south and two east of the jail. You can't miss it.

Dragon Mountain and Huma's Tomb and they sing songs of Huma and of Sturm Brightblade - a
very good friend of mine! They “tell tales of glory by day, and spend the night on their
knees in prayer before Huma's stone bier.” Those

quotes are from Tanis. I knew about this, but I'd never been invited to come

before, probably because I'm not a knight. (Though I would really like to be, someday. I
know a story about a half-kender who was almost a knight. Have you heard it? Oh, all
right.) I guess I was invited this year because this year was special, being the tenth
anniversary of Something that I couldn't read for the blot. But I didn't care what it was,
as long as there was to be a big party in honor of it.

I was traipsing through the fog of Foghaven Vale, wondering where I was (I had wandered
off the path), when I heard voices. Naturally, I stopped to listen and while stopping to
listen I may have sneaked behind a tree. (This is not snooping. It is called “caution” and
caution is conducive to a long life. Something Tanis is very big on. I'll explain later.)

This is what I heard the voice say. "'The tenth anniversary is to be a reverent, solemn,

holy time of rededication for all good and righteous people of Krynn.'“ It was Tanis! I
was sure it was his voice, only he was talking in a Lord Gunthar-kind of tone. Then Tanis
said in his own voice, ”Crap. It's all a lot of crap."

“What? - ” said another voice, and I knew that voice was Caramon's, and he sounded the
same dear old confused Caramon as always. I couldn't believe my luck.

'Tanis, my dear,“ came a woman's voice and it was Laurana! I knew that because she's the
only one who ever calls Tanis my DEAR. ”Don't talk so loudly."

“But what? - ” That was Caramon again.

“No one can hear me,” said Tanis, interrupting. He sounded really irritated and in a Bad
Mood. “This damn fog muffles everything. The truth is that the knights are having
political problems at home. That draconian raid on Throtl touched off a riot in Palanthas.
People think the knights should go into the mountains and wipe out the draconians and the
goblins and anything else that doesn't wipe them out first. It's all the fault of this new
group of boneheads who say we should go back to the golden days of the Kingpriest!”

“But doesn't Lady Crysania - ” Caramon tried again.

“Oh, she reminds people of the truth,” Tanis told him. “And I think most understand. But
the fanatics are gaining converts, especially when the refugees come forward and tell
their tales of Throtl in flames and goblins killing babies. What no one seems to realize
is that the knights couldn't possibly raise an army large enough to go into the Khalkists,
even if they did ally with the dwarves. The rest of Solamnia would be left defenseless,
which is probably just exactly what these goblins raids are trying to accomplish; But
these fools don't want to listen to reason.”

“Then why are we - ”

“ - here? That's why,” Tanis answered. “The knights are turning this into a public
spectacle in order to remind everyone how truly great and wonderful we are. Are you sure
we're going the right direction?”

I could see them now from where I was hiding. (Caution, not snooping.) Tanis and Caramon
and Laurana were riding on horses, and an escort of knights was riding behind - a long way
behind. Tanis had reigned in his horse and was looking around like he thought he was lost,

and Caramon was looking, too. “I think - ” Caramon began. “Yes, dear,” said Laurana
patiently. "This is the trail.

I came this way before, remember?“ ”Ten years ago," Tanis reminded her, turning to look

at her with a smile. “Yes, ten years,” she said. "But I'm not likely to ever

forget it. I was with Silvara and Gilthanas . . . and Flint. Dear old Flint." She sighed
and brushed her hand across her cheek.

I felt a snuffle coming on, so I kept behind the tree until I could choke it back down. I
heard Tanis clear his throat. He shifted uncomfortably in his saddle and moved closer to
Caramon. Their horses were nose to nose and almost nose to nose with me.

“I was afraid this would happen,” Tanis said quietly. “I tried to talk her out of coming,
but she insisted. Damn knights. Polishing up their armor and their memories of glory from
ten years ago, hoping that people will remember the battle of the High Clerist's Tower and
forget the Sacking of Throtl.”

Caramon blinked. “Was Throtl really? - ”

“Don't exaggerate, Tanis,” said Laurana briskly, riding up to join them. “And don't worry
about me. It's good to be reminded of those who have gone before us, who wait for us at
the end of our long journey. My memories of my dear friends aren't bitter. They don't make
me unhappy, only sad. It is our loss, not theirs.” Her eyes went to Caramon as she spoke.

The big man smiled, nodded his head in silent understanding. He was thinking of Raistlin.
I know because I was thinking of Raistlin, too, and some fog got into my eyes and made
them go all watery. I thought about what Caramon had put on the little stone marker he set
up in Solace in Raistlin's honor.

ONE GRANTED PEACE FOR HIS SACRIFICE. ONE WHO SLEEPS, AT REST. IN ETERNAL NIGHT.

Tanis scratched his beard. (His beard has little streaks of gray in it now. It looks quite
distinguished.) He looked frustrated.

"You'll see what I mean when we get there. The knights have gone to all this trouble and
expense, and I don't think it's going to help matters. People don't live in

the past. They live in the present. That's what counts now. The knights need to do
something to bolster our faith in them now, not remind us of what they were ten years ago.
Some are beginning to say it was all wizard's work back then anyway. Gods and magic.“ He
shook his head. ”I wish we could forget the past and get on with the future."

“But we should remember the past, honor it,” said Caramon, actually managing to finish a
complete sentence. He wouldn't have managed that - Tanis was so worked up - only Tanis had
been forced to stop talking by a sneeze. “If people are divided now, then it seems that we
should remind them of a time they came together.”

“If it would do that, it might be of some worth,” Tanis muttered, sniffing. He was
searching through his pockets, probably for a handkerchief. He's quite careless about
losing things. I know because I was holding onto his pack at the time.