The Second Generation

Caramon stopped her, frowning. “An odd adornment,” he said, forcing open the woman’s hand for Tika to view the pin. He found, now that he studied it, that he was loath to touch it.

Tika peered at the brooch. Her lips tightened. Perhaps she was thinking her infallible judge of character had failed her at last. “A black lily.”

A black, waxen flower with four pointed petals and a blood-red center, the black lily is reputed by elven legend to spring up from the graves of those who have met their deaths by violence. The black lily is said to grow from the heart of the murdered victim and, if plucked, the broken stem will bleed.

The dragon rider snatched her hand away, slid the brooch back into the black fur that trimmed her cloak.

“Where’ve you left your dragon?” Caramon asked grimly.

“Hidden in a valley near here. You needn’t worry, Inn-keep. She’s under my control and completely loyal to me. She won’t harm anyone.” The woman withdrew the blue leather helm she wore to protect her face during flight. “I give you my word.”

Once the helm was removed, the frightening, formidable dragon rider disappeared. In its place stood a woman of perhaps middle age; it was hard to tell how old she was by looking. Her face was lined, but with sorrow more than years. Her braided hair was gray, prematurely gray, it seemed. Her eyes were not the cruel, hard, merciless eyes of those who serve Takhisis, but were gentle and sad and... frightened.

“And we believe you, my lady,” said Tika, with a defiant glance at the silent Caramon—a glance that, to be honest, the big man didn’t deserve.

was always slow to react, not because he was thick-witted (as even his best friends had once thought, in his youth), but because he always considered each new or unusual occurrence from every conceivable angle.

Such rumination gave him the appearance of slowness, and frequently drove the quick-thinking among his comrades (including his wife) to distraction. But Caramon refused to be hurried and often came up with some astonishingly insightful conclusions in consequence.

“You’re shivering, my lady,” Tika added, while her husband stood flat-footed, staring at nothing. Tika left him be. She knew the signs of her husband’s mind at work. She drew the woman close to the fire pit. “Sit here. I’ll stir up the blaze. Would you like some hot food? It will take me only a minute to whip up the kitchen fire—”

“No, thank you. Don’t bother about the fire. It’s not the cold that makes me shiver.” The woman said the last in a low voice. She fell more than sat on a bench.

Tika dropped the poker she was using to stoke the fire. “What is wrong, my lady? You’ve escaped some dreadful prison, haven’t you? And you’re being pursued.”

The woman lifted her head and looked at Tika in wonder, then the woman smiled wanly. “You are near the mark. Does so much show in my face?” She put a trembling hand to her lined and faded cheek.

“Husband.” Tika stood up briskly. “Where’s your sword?”

“Huh?” Jolted from his thoughts, Caramon jerked his head up. “What? Sword?”

“We’ll wake the sheriff. Turn out the town militia. Don’t worry, my lady.” Tika was busily untying her apron. “They won’t take you back—”

“Wait! No!” The woman appeared more frightened of all this activity on her behalf than she was of whatever danger threatened her.

“Stop a minute, Tika,” Caramon said, resting his hand on his wife’s shoulder. And when Caramon spoke in that tone, his headstrong wife always listened. “Calm down.”

He turned to the dragon rider, who had jumped to her feet in alarm.

“Don’t worry, my lady. We won’t tell anyone you’re here until you want us to.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, the woman sank back down onto the bench.

“But, darling—” Tika began.

“She came here on purpose, my dear,” Caramon interrupted. “She didn’t stop at the inn just for a room. She cameon purpose to find someone living in Solace. And I don’t think she escaped some evil place. I think she left.” His voice grew grim. “And I think that when she leaves here, she’s going back—of her own free will.”

The woman shuddered. Her shoulders hunched, her head bowed.

“You are right. I have come to find someone in Solace. You, an innkeeper, you would know where I could locate this man. I must talk to him tonight. I dare not stay long. Time .. .” Her fingers, in their blue gloves, twisted together.

“Time is running out.”

Caramon reached for his cloak, which hung on a peg behind the bar. “Who is it? Tell me his name, and I’ll run to fetch him. I know everyone living in Solace ...”

“Wait a moment.” The prudent Tika stopped him. “What do you want with this man?”

“I can tell you his name, but I cannot tell you why I want to see him, more for his sake than my own.”

Caramon frowned. “Will this bring whatever danger you’re in down on him as well?”

“I can’t say!” The woman avoided looking at him. “Perhaps. I’m sorry for it, but...”

Slowly, Caramon shook his head. “I can’t wake a man in the middle of the night and take him to what may be his doom—”