The Legend of Huma

Chapter 24

“We do not know if he has indeed been taken Huma, and even if he is a prisoner of Galan Dracos, it would be impossible for us to rescue him. They must have him in the citadel of the renegade, himself,” Kaz pointed out for the hundredth time.

“Our best hope is to deliver the Dragonlances to Vingaard Keep and the Grand Master, Huma,” Buoron added.

Huma nodded. They were both correct, he knew, but his inability to protect Magius, whom he had known nearly all his life, gnawed at him.

Buoron, the wounded arm in a sling, drove the wagon now. Huma sat with the lances, watching the trio’s backside. The silver dragon had volunteered to seek out the assistance of her kin, and Huma had approved the idea.

With Crynus destroyed and his guardsmen in disarray, the trio should be safe for the time being. In actuality, a part of Huma almost desired a second accounting.

The next few days passed without incident as the companions traveled toward Solamnia and Vingaard Keep. There were times when Huma would wake to what he was sure were the cries of the dreadwolves, but nothing came of these.

In all this time, the silver dragon did not return. No one cared to conjecture on this, although all three assumed it had something to do with the steadily advancing hordes of the Dragonqueen. Huma recalled the words of Crynus—that the Knights of Solamnia had been virtually defeated and that Vingaard soon would fall. As much as he wished to believe otherwise, Huma tasted too much truth in those statements.

By this time, they were far to the northwest of Caergoth. Huma recalled Lord Guy Avondale and prayed they would pass this region without confronting the Ergothian commander. After Huma’s abrupt departure, he was not sure how Avondale would welcome him. Nor was Huma confident as to what the Ergothians would do once they saw the Dragonlances. They might very well confiscate them.

The trio was making good time, all things considered, but it was still not fast enough for Huma. The evil of Takhisis was enveloping everything, and Huma felt impotent.

They crossed plains now. That would continue for much of the journey. While it made their going easier, it also provided them with little cover.

At midday, only two days from the border, they sighted a huge patrol, too far away to be identified. But it was plain the patrol had seen the trio as well, for the soldiers shifted in their direction and their pace quickened.

Kaz removed his battle ax. Huma leaped from the back of the wagon and unsheathed his blade. Buoron remained with the wagon, but he pulled out his sword and waited for the approach of the patrol.

The bearded knight was the first to identify them. Turning to Huma, he said, “Ergothians. Part of their northern army, I would say.”

There was no way to outrun them. How would Ergothians act when confronted with an ax-wielding minotaur and two knights from an order responsible in great part for the decay of the once-mighty Ergothian Empire?

The commander of the patrol raised his hand as the group neared the trio. A broad, almost fat man with a small beard and thin gray hair, he studied each of them in turn, his gaze lingering on Kaz, who, despite his nature, tried his best to look unthreatening. In Huma’s opinion, the minotaur failed completely.

First, the Ergothian addressed Buoron. “You are from one of the outposts in the south, are you not?”

“I am.” Both knights stiffened. This commander was a keen observer.

“Your companion knight is not?”

Huma answered. “Lord, I am Knight Huma of the Order of the Crown.”

“I see,” said the Ergothian with about as much interest as if he had been told that there was grass growing on the plains. He pointed at Kaz. “And that? Where did that come from? I’ve heard rumors . . .”

“I,” the minotaur announced proudly, “am Kaz. I have rebelled from my former masters and am now companion to Huma, most noble and brave of knights.”

That might have brought a few smiles to the faces of the Ergothians if they had not seen the dark look on the face of Kaz and knew he meant every word of it.

“I am also a minotaur, not a ‘that.’”

“I see.” The commander shifted his girth in the saddle and turned to Huma. “I am Faran and though we have never met, I and my men are presently attached to an acquaintance of yours. Lord Guy Avondale,”

Huma could not help but flinch.

“I see you remember him. I have been asked to escort you to him, and I will not take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Huma looked at his two companions. The patrol outnumbered them and included more than a few archers. To resist would be foolish. As long as they lived, there was hope. “We will gladly accept your escort.”

Faran smirked. “I thought you might.” He waved his hand and the patrol split, one half flanking each side of the wagon. There would be no escape. “We have a day’s journey ahead of us, so I recommend we waste no more valuable time.”

“I must admit to being greatly surprised at your sudden absence that night, Huma,” Lord Guy Avondale was saying the next day.

The three of them sat, alone, before the chief commander in his tent.

“I have explained those circumstances.”

“Yes, you have.” Lord Avondale put down his goblet. The trio had been offered wine as well, but none of them had accepted. “I should have known better, I grant that, but when we discovered that nest of pestilence, I was more than happy to accept the mage’s assistance.”

Kaz, his patience wearing thin, stood up fiercely. “We have been sitting here for the past three hours, two of which were wasted waiting for you, commander. For the past hour, you have spoken of nothing but false pleasantries and news so old—how much longer are we to put up with this? Are you going to let us pass into Solamnia with the lances?”

Two guards came rushing in, but the commander waved them off. They did not leave the tent, Huma noticed.

The Ergothian put down his goblet. “For the past three hours, and all of last night, I have been debating in my mind as to what to do about you and those weapons. In answer to your last question, yes, you may pass through with the lances. For what reason would I turn them over to the emperor? He would merely mount them on some palace wall as the latest of his trophies, despite what they could do for all of Ansalon.”

Huma and Avondale locked gazes. “Other than a few die-hards, most of us are realistic enough to admit the truth. It is no longer the emperor we truly fight for, although perhaps that once might have been the case. We are fighting for Ergoth, our homeland, and our families. That is what matters in the long run. Emperors come and go, but it is the people who sustain. We lost sight of that at some point, and a good portion of the empire decided they could do better without us—but you know that, of course.”

“Then,” Huma said calmly, “if what you say is true, why are we being held here?”

“You are not. We are waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

A horn signaled the approach of someone or something. Guy Avondale rose and smiled knowingly. “I think that is them now. Come with me, please.”

They stood and followed the Ergothian commander. They were trailed by the two guards.

When they had entered the camp, the first thing Huma had noticed was the vast, open plain situated before the tent of the commander. He had wondered at its purpose then, even as he had wondered until now how Avondale had known where they were and that they were coming at all. Now the knight understood.

The first to land was the silver dragon herself. She seemed fully healed and, in fact, greeted Huma with such enthusiasm that he was overwhelmed.

“I apologize for the delay, Huma, but it proved more difficult than I thought to locate assistance. But I have found them!”

Two more silver dragons landed, one female and one male. They were introduced as the silver dragon’s siblings, and both greeted and gazed at Huma with such seriousness it was as if they were inspecting him. Huma returned their greeting with some unease.

The final newcomer was a bronze-colored dragon, slightly smaller than all the rest. What he lacked in size, though, he more than made up for in muscle and speed. He had, from humans, acquired the nickname of Bolt, which he wore proudly. Here at last, Huma decided, was a kindred spirit for Kaz.

“Four or five lances between us will be no difficulty,” Huma’s silver dragon explained.

“The saddle—” Huma began.

“I have had someone working on that,” interjected Avondale. “We have four saddles, which should suffice. I assure you that they will be more than capable of withstanding the rigors ahead.”

“They had better be,” Kaz muttered.

“You said four,” Huma said. “We have only three, without Magius. Unless you think—”

“I do not!” The Ergothian commander looked Huma straight in the eye. “In the name of Paladine and all of Ansalon, I forbid you from going and throwing yourself at the renegade in a futile attempt to rescue the mage! You yourself have spoken of how much the Dragonlances mean to the future of all of us. If you throw your life away, you are condemning us to the Dragonqueen’s dark dreams!”

Inwardly, Huma felt shame at the relief that flowed through him upon hearing Avondale’s words. Part of him desperately wanted to rescue his companion, while another part of him yearned for his own safety. Huma was torn.

“Who is to be our fourth member, then?”

“I am.”

“You?” Kaz snorted in derision. “Have all the world’s commanders gone mad?”

Lord Avondale replied coldly. “Faran is more than capable of stepping into my role. Despite his dislike of Solamnia, he is a practical man. He will not do anything to upset the situation. I would trust no one more.”

“What would your emperor say?” asked Buoron, silent until now.

“What the emperor would say, he may tell me if I survive. As I told you, I am fighting for Ergoth. I would never forgive myself if I placed another’s life in such danger, though I am sure many would volunteer. Someone must go with you, to represent Ergoth to your Grand Master, and it may as well be me.”

Huma agreed, albeit with great reluctance. They were in Avondale’s hands at present; there really was no choice—and he would be a good man to have on one’s side, Huma decided.

It was agreed that Huma would again ride the silver dragon, while Buoron and Avondale would take the younger male and female, respectively. This left Kaz with the volatile Bolt. As Huma had suspected, the minotaur and the bronze dragon took to one another like two old soldiers. His only fear was that the two might take it on themselves to charge on ahead, and he voiced this opinion to the silver dragon.

She chuckled. “Bolt and Kaz do indeed make a troublesome pair, but the dragon at least knows better—I think. I shall warn him once we are in the air.”

“Make sure it’s understood that the warning is for both of them.”

“There will be no doubts.”

They had wanted to leave without fanfare, but Faran would not hear of it. The second-in-command had an honor guard waiting to see them off.

Bolt, especially, was intrigued by the Dragonlance. Already a terror in the skies—according to himself—he claimed he now had the perfect edge with the lance and Kaz in the saddle. The silver dragons all looked on in poorly masked amusement, although Huma’s did admit shortly thereafter that the bronze dragon’s words were not bluster. He was indeed a formidable opponent.

The dragons rose into the sky one at a time, with Huma and his mount the first, Kaz and Bolt last. The sun was already well into the sky, but with the dragons bearing them, they would cover a vast distance that day in any case.

By the time night had triumphed, they had long passed the border into Solamnia. One thing they had not thought of slowed them, though. The drizzle that had started in Ergoth was a downpour at this point, and all four riders were soaked. The dragons seemed unaffected, especially the bronze, who seemed to enjoy the shafts of lightning that almost skewered them twice. At Huma’s urging, they finally landed for the night in the hope that the morning would bring better conditions. The dragons formed a protective square around them and the four set up the two tents Avondale had thought to bring along. The tents kept the rain from them and Huma’s only regret was that the true smell of a wet minotaur became very obvious as the night aged.

In the morning, Kaz had the same comment about him.

The rain did not cease, but it did lighten. The riders covered themselves with their cloaks or in the few blankets they had brought. Thanks to the dragons, they would be within the vicinity of Vingaard Keep in two days. Had they not been burdened by the extra lances, it would have taken even less time.

Still, their journey was by no means over, for now they were to face the Dragonqueen’s forces. Dracos had a stranglehold on the heart of Solamnia, for he had finally cut off northern and southern routes into and out of Vingaard, effectively creating a wall that encircled the Keep. Supplies were becoming scarce. Control of the sky was still a question, but morale was having its effect even on the dragons of light. The only thing that had kept them going, the silver dragon revealed, was the rumor of the Dragonlance.

The male silver was in the lead when they felt the first probe in their direction. A presence was nearby, reaching out with magic to detect outsiders. The probe was no more than a momentary contact with their minds, but it was enough to send the entire group into an abrupt halt.

“Back!” cried the male.

The four leviathans whirled and retreated some distance back along their route. They conferred as they flew.

“What was it we felt?” Huma’s female asked.

“A mind—not a dragon’s mind, but a powerful human mind. Undisciplined, too. This one was never a student of the Orders of Magic.”

“Not a cleric?”

The male shook his massive head. “No, definitely a mage. A renegade.”

Huma looked around nervously. “Surely, he is not a threat to you!”

“Physically, no, Huma.” It was his own silver dragon who replied. “But he would have no trouble warning others of our presence—if he hasn’t already—and those others may be a threat. His sole purpose is to watch the skies.”

“Let me take him!” Bolt shouted.

“What would you do,” the young female silver asked, “that could possibly prevent him from sending out a message before you strike?”

The bronze dragon clamped his mouth shut.

“I think,” the silver male commented, “that an opening has been left for us. He is, after all, only human. I will fly to a level much higher than we normally fly. Once there, it is possible that I can discover whether his range of power can extend that high. I must risk our discovery to be sure.” He added, “If my companion has no objections . . .”

Buoron shook his head, although he gripped the saddle pommel tightly.

“What of the rest of you?”

There was no argument from the others. Taking that as a positive response, the male spiraled once and then turned skyward. As Buoron held on, the silver male began to soar higher and higher and higher until he was lost in the cloud cover. Several minutes passed while the others waited anxiously. Then Huma spotted a form breaking through the clouds.

Buoron was rather pale, but otherwise seemed none the worse. His dragon seemed elated. “I was correct. So typical of many earthbound minds; his search extends only to the cloud cover. As far as he is concerned, anything above that does not exist.”

“I could’ve thought of that!” complained Bolt.

“You did not, and neither did I,” commented Huma’s dragon. “Now that I hear it, it amazes me. I had forgotten how closed-minded some humans are. Still, he may yet come to that realization by accident, so we had better move quickly.”

The others followed Huma and his companion skyward, soaring up until they burst into the cloud cover, the mists, and then broke through to the other side. From there, they estimated their present position from Vingaard Keep and continued their journey.

The dragons flew on through the night while their riders slept. Huma awoke to the sound of Kaz arguing with the great reptilian creatures about the need for them to land before every muscle in his body stiffened, war or no war. The dragons themselves were visibly tired and ready to land in order to get a new fix on their positions.

First Bolt, then the others spiraled swiftly downward.

The bronze dragon disappeared into the silky, white sea, followed quickly by the other silver female. Huma and the silver dragon followed next.

The cool mist surrounded him, and he could not even see the dragon’s head. A harsh, grating crashing came from below them and Huma’s first thoughts were that they were entering into a tremendous storm. Then, suddenly, they were out of the cloudcover—

—and into chaos.

They had assumed, incorrectly, that they had crossed beyond the enemy forces. Huma’s mind spun with horrible nightmares as he realized how tightly the Keep was surrounded. Fighting raged everywhere.

Men and ogres were clashing furiously with one another. In Huma’s eyes, it seemed as if the land below was swarming with the dead and dying. Both sides were advancing and retreating at the same time, depending upon where he looked. It was chaos. Dragons of Takhisis continually dove down, assaulting both the ravaged lines of the knights and any of their ogre allies who were unfortunate enough to be too near. There were dragons of gold, silver, bronze, and copper, but they always seemed outnumbered. Worse yet, there prevailed a sense of malevolent power all about that the courage of the good dragons could not seem to counter. Even up here, away from the battle, Huma could feel discouragement and surrender building up within his soul.

“Takhisis is here,” Huma’s companion muttered to him. “She is here on Krynn, feeding our cousins with her power, chilling the minds of her enemies. I did not think she could retain so much of her power on the mortal plain. It is as if she were before us herself.”

It was true. The Dragonqueen’s presence was overwhelming. Huma shivered from a cold that threatened to numb his mind more than his body. How did one fight a goddess?

“Up ahead, Huma. Can you see it?”

His gaze followed the direction her head pointed and, after wiping his eyes more than once, he identified the tiny object on the horizon.

“Vingaard Keep!” Kaz shouted from ahead of them. By now, they all could see it—and the battle that seemed to cover every inch of ground all the way to its walls.

Lord Avondale cried out and pointed to their right. A gold dragon battled two reds. The combat was fierce, and all three bore wounds. When it became obvious that the gold dragon was beginning to lose. Bolt waited no longer. With Kaz readying his Dragonlance, the two charged into the fray.

Suddenly, there were dragons everywhere, most of them foes. All thoughts of food and rest vanished. There were only the claws and the teeth, the cries and the screams, the blood and the pain.

And the Dragonlances.

The dark dragons here knew nothing of the lances, perhaps because Dracos had not wanted them to fear. They soon learned that fear, however, as one after another perished on the points of lances which, when pulled free, were unstained and unscratched, and glowed with a brilliance all their own.

The children of Takhisis soon began to turn and flee from that brilliance, for they marked it easily as the sign of Paladine and they had no power against him. Others, farther off, noted the frenzy with which their brethren fled the battle and assumed then that the day was lost. The fleeing of the first dragons soon became a wave of confusion in the sky as more and more retreated in uncomprehending panic.

Freed from battling their counterparts, the dragons of Paladine added to the strength of the knighthood, and the tide on the ground began to turn as well. First the west, then the eastern lines of the Dragonqueen’s forces began to bend, give, and then at last crumble. Without the aid of their dragon allies, the ogres and humans who fought for the darkness lost courage, and many simply threw down their weapons and fled.

Eventually, the fighting died. That the skies rumbled ominously and lightning blasted the mountains to the west disturbed only a few. A victory of some kind had been desperately needed, and it had been produced. No one at the time knew how, but they gave thanks to Paladine and his house for the miracle and then grimly waited to see what would happen next.

Well past midday, four exhausted dragons landed in the courtyard of Vingaard Keep. On their backs they each bore a rider, all of whom also were pale and exhausted. A silvery glow encompassed the newcomers and eventually someone realized it was the great lances that glowed so godlike, and not the dragons and riders themselves.

By that time, though, the stories were already spreading.