):ven after the Cataclysm, when belief in the old gads died, the Glade remained a sacred place. Perhaps that was becausey not even the Cataclysm lead affected it. Legend held that whew the fiery mountain fell from the sky, the ground around the' Whitestone cracked and split apart, but the Whitestone~ remained intact.
So awesome was the sight of the huge white rock that,even now none dared either approach or touch it. What stan›=~ powers it possessed, none could say. All they knew -was that the air around the Whitestone eras always springlike and warm No matter how bitter the winter, the grass in Whitestone Gla was always.green.
Though his heart was, heavy. Gunthar relaxed as he step inside the glade and breathed the warm, sweet air. Far moment, he felt once again the touch of Elistan's hand upon shoulder, imparting a feeling of inner peace. ~
Glancing around quickly, he saw all in readiness, Mass wooden chairs with ornately carved backs had been placed on the green grass. Five for the voting members of the Council stood to the left side of the Whitestone, three for the advisory members stood on the right. Polished benches for the witnesses to the proceedings as demanded by the Measure, sat facing the Whitestone and the Council members.
Some of the witnesses had already begun arriving, Gunthar noticed. Most of the elven party traveling with the Speaker and the Silvanesti lord were taking their seats. The two estranged elven races sat near each other, apart from the humans who were filing in as well. Everyone sat daiietly, some in remembrance of Famine Day; others, like the gnomes, who did not celebrate that holiday, in awe of their surroundings. Seats in the front row were reserved for honored guests or far those with leave to speak before the Council.
Gunthar saw the Speaker's stern-faced son, Porthios, enter with a retinue of elven warriors. They took their seats in the front. Gunthar wondered where Elistan was. He'd intended to ask him to speak. He had been impressed with the man's words (even if he was a charlatan) and hoped he would repeat them.
As he searched in vain for Elistan, he saw three strange figures enter and seat themselves in the front row: it was the old mage in his bent and shapeless hat, his kender friend, and a gnome they had brought back with them from Mount Nevermind. The three had arrived back from their journey only last night.,
Gunthar was forced to turn his attention back to the Whikestone. The advisory Council members were entering. There were only two, Lord Quinath of the Silvanesti, and the Speaker of the Suns. Gunthar looked at the Speaker curiously, knowing he was one of the few beings an Krynn to still remember the horrors of the Cataclysm.
The Speaker was so stooped that he seemed almost crippled. His hair was, gray; his face haggard. But as he took his seat and turned his gaze to the witnesses, Gunthar saw the elf's eyes Were bright and arresting. Lord Quinath, seated next to him, was known to Gunthar, who considered him as arrogant and proud as Porthios of the Qualinesti, but lacking in the intellgence Porthios possessed.
As for Porthios, Gunthar thought he could probably comet o like the Speaker's eldest son quite well. Porthios had every characteristic the knights admired, with one exception-his quick temper. Gunthar's observations were interrupted, for now it was time for the voting Council members to enter and Gunthar had to take his place. First came Mir Kar-thon of Northern Ergoth, a dark-complexioned man with iron-gray hair and the arms of I a giant. Next came Serdin MarThasal, representing the Exiles i on Sancrist, and finally Lord Gunthar, Knight of Solamnia. Once seated, Gunthar glanced around a final time. The huge Whitestone glistenedi behind him, casting its own strange radiance, for the sun world not shine today. On the other side of the Whitestone sat the Speaker, next to him Lord Quinath. I Across from them, facing the Council, sat the witnesses upon their benches. The kender was sitting subdued, swinging his short legs on his tall bench. The gnome shuffled through what looked like a ream of paper; Gunthar shuddered, wishing there'd been time to ask for a condensed report. The old magi- . clan yawned and scratched his head, peering around vaguely.
AII was ready. At Gunthar's signal, two knights entered, . bearing a golden stand and a wooden chest. A silence that was almost deathlike descended on the crowd as they watched the entrance of the dragon orb.
The knights carne to a halt, standing directly in (rant of the Whitestone. Here, one of the knights placed tl!e golden s card` upon the ground. The other set down the chest, unlocked it and carefully brought forth the orb that was back to its origin site, over two feet in diameter.
A murmur went through the crowd. The Speaker of the Su shifted uncomfortably, scowling. His son, Porthios, turned t_ say something to an elflord near him. All of the elves., Gunth muted, were armed. Not a good sign, from what little he kne of elven protocol.
He had no choice but to proceed. Calling the meeting . order, Lard Gunthar Uth Wistan announced, "Let tine Coon cf V"dhitestane be:gin:'
After about two, minutes, it was obvious to Tasslehoff things were in a real mess.. Before Lord Gunthar had even c eluded his speech of welcome, the Speaker of the Suns rose-.
"My talk will be brief;' the elven leader stated in a voice that matched the steely gray of the storm clouds above him. "The Silvanesti, the Qualinesti, and the Kaganesti met in council shortly after the orb was removed from our camp. It is the first time the members o? the three communities have met since the Kinslayer wars." He paused, laying a heavy emphasis on those last words. Then he continued.
"We have decided to set aside our own differences in our perfect agreement that the dragon orb belongs in the hands of the elves, not in the hands of humans or any other race upon Krynn. Therefore, we come before the Council of Whitestone and ask that the dragon orb be given over to us forthwith. In return, we guarantee that we will take it to our lands and keep it safe until such time-if ever-it be needed:"
The Speaker sat down, his dark eyes sweeping aver the crowd, its silence broken now by a murmur of soft voices, The other Council members, sitting next to Lord Gunthar, shook their heads, their faces grim. The dark-skinned leader of the Northern Ergoth people whispered to Lord Gunthar in a harsh voice, clenching his fist to emphasize his words.
Lord Gunthar, after listening and nodding for several minutes, rose to his feet to respond. His speech was cool, calm, complimentary to the clues. But it said-between the linesthat the Knights would see the elves in the Abyss before they gave them the dragon orb.
The Speaker, understanding perfectly the message of steel couched in the pretty phrases, rose to reply He spoke only one sentence, but it brought the crowd of witnesses to their feet.
"Then, Lord Gunthar," the Speaker said, ''the elves declare that-from this time on-we are at war!"
Humans and elves bath headed for the dragon orb that sat upon its golden stand, its milky white insides swirling gently within the crystal. Gunthar shouted For order time and again, banging the hilt of his sward upon the table. The Speaker spoke a ie4v words sharply in elven, staring hard at his son, Porthios, and finally order was restored.
)3u t the atmosphere snapped I_ke the air before a storm. Gunklrar talked. The Speaker answered'. The Speaker talked. Gunthar answered. The dark-skinned mariner lost his temper and made a few cutting remarks about elves. The lord of the
Silvanesti reduced him to quivering anger with his sarcastic rejoinders. Several of the knights left, only to return armed to the teeth. They came to stand near Gunthar, their hands on their weapons. The elves, led by Porthios, rose to surround their own leaders.
Gnosh, his report held fast in his hand, began to realize he warn"t going to be asked to give it.
Tasslehoff looked around despairingly for Elistan. He kept hoping desperately the cleric would come. Elistan could calm these people down. Or maybe Laurana. Where was sheT There'd been no ward of his friends, the elves had told the kender coldly. She and her brother had apparently vanished in the wilderness. l shouldn't lave left them, Tas thought. l shouldn't be here. Why, why did this crazy old mage bring me7 I'm useless! Maybe Fizban could do something? Tas looked at the mage hopefully, but Fizban was sound asleep!
"Please, wake up!" Tas begged, shaking him. "Somebody's got to do something!"
At that moment, he heard Lord Gunthar yell, "The dragon orb is not yours by right! Lady Laurana and the others were bringing it to us when they were shipwrecked! You tried to keep it on Ergoth by force, and your own daughter-"
",Mention not my daughter!" the Speaker said in a deep, . harsh voice. "I do not have a daughter:'
Something broke within Tasslehoff. Confused memories of
Laurana fighting desperately against the evil wizard whoj guarded the orb, Laurana battling draconians, Laurana tiring her bow at the white dragon;. Laurana ministering to him sari tenderly when bed been near death. To be cast off by her owl people when she was working so desperately to save them,~ when she had sacrificed so much …
. -
"Stop this!" Tasslehoff heard himself yelling at the top of his voice. "Stop this right now and listen to me!" ~
Suddenly he saw, to his astonishment, that everrjone haac stopped talking and was staring at him.
Now that he had his audience, Tas realized he didn.'t ha ^ any idea what to say to all of these important pecVie.But knew he had to say something. After all, he thought, this is fault-I read about these damn orbs.. Gulping, he slid off ~~' bench and walked toward the Whitestone and the two host' groups clustered around it. He thought he saw-out of the corner of his eye-Fizban grinning from under his hat.
"I-I . . ." The kender stammered, wondering what to say. He was saved by a sudden inspiration.
"I demand the right to represent my people;' Tasslehoff said proudly, "and take my place on the advisory council:'
Flipping his tassle of brown hair over his shoulder, the kender came to stand right in front of the dragon orb. Looking up, he could see the Whitestone towering over it and over him. Tas stared at the stone, shivering, then quickly turned his gaze from the rock to Gunthar and the Speaker of the Suns.
And then Tasslehoff knew what he had to do. He began to shake with fear. He-Tasslehoff Burrfoot-who'd never been afraid of anything in his life! He'd faced dragons without tremb;ing, but the knowledge of what he was going to do now appalled him. His hands felt as if he'd been making snowballs without gloves on. His tongue seemed to belong in some larger person"s mouth. But Tas was resolute. He just had to keep them talking, keep them from guessing what he planned.
"You've never taken us kenders very seriously; you know," Tas began, his voice sounding too loud and shrill in his own ears, "and I can't say I blame you much. We don't have a strong sense of responsibility, I guess, and we are probably too curious for own goad-but, I ask you, how are you going to find out anything if you're not curious?"
Tas could see the ;Speaker's face turn to steel, even Lord Gunthar was scowling. The kender edged nearer the dragon orb.
"4Ire cause lots of trouble, I suppose, without meaning to, and occasionally some of us do happen to acquire certain things which aren't ours. But one thing the kender know is-'
Tasslehoff broke into a run. Quick and lithe as a mouse, he sipped easily through the hands that tried to catch him, reaching the dragon orb within a matter of seconds. Faces blurred ar ound hinn, mouths opened, shrieking and yelling at him. But they were too late.
Ir, one swift srnocth movement, Tasslehoff hurled the dragon ors at the huge, gleaming Whitestone.
The round, gleaming crystal-its insides swirling in a3itation-hung sus~emded in the air for long, long seconds. Tas wondered if the orb had the power to halt its flight. But it
DRAGONLANCE CHRONICLES
was just a fevered impression in the kender's mind.
The dragon orb struck the rock and shattered, bursting into a thousand sparkling pieces. For an instant, a ball of milky white smoke hung in the air, as if trying desperately to hold itself together. Then the warm, springlikebreeze of the glade caught it and swept it apart.
There was intense, awful silence.