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DRAGONLANCE Chronicles
Volume 4
DRAGONS OF SUMMER FLAME
©1995 TSR, Inc.
©2001 Wizards of the Coast LLC
©2011 Wizards of the Coast LLC
All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
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v3.1
TO SOJOURNERS IN KRYNN
May your Sword never break.
May your Armor never rust.
May the Three Moons guide your Magic.
May your Prayers be heard.
May your Beard grow long.
May your Life Quest never blow up in your face.
May your Hoopak sing.
May your Homeland prosper.
May Dragons fly ever in your Dreams.
—Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman
Contents
Cover
Other Books by This Author
Title Page
Copyright
Map
Book 1
1. The Landing Party. The Prophecy. An Unexpected Encounter
2. The Magical Isle. An Urgent Meeting. The Decider
3. Farewells. The Protector’s Parting Gift
4. A Letter to Dalamar
5. The Altar and the Graygem. The Dwarf Arrives Late. Cracking Open the Stone
Book 2
1. The Honored Dead. A Single Prisoner. A Fated Meeting
3. The City of Palanthas. A Weary Search, not Quite Fruitless
4. An Assault. Arrested. Tasslehoff is Surprised
5. The Sorceress. Mistress Jenna is Surprised
6. The Tower of High Sorcery. A Dinner Party. Dalamar is Unpleasantly Surprised
7. The Inn of the Last Home. A Discussion Between Old Friends
8. Dragon Flight. Dragon Counsel. Captor and Captive
9. A Warning. The Elves Take Up Arms. Tika Takes up the Skillet
10. An Excellent Place for an Ambush
11. The Ransom. Raistlin’s Room. Palin’s Plan
12. Usha’s Claim. Dalamar is not Convinced. A Starting Discovery
13. The Siege of Kalaman
14. The Wheel Turns. The Wheel Stops. The Wheel Turns Again
15. Steel Vows Revenge. Pain Hears the Familiar Voice. The Journey to Palanthas
16. The High Clerist’s Tower. An Unwelcome Messenger
17. Eluding the Patrols. An Odd Sort of Fish Wife. One Eye and Yellow Eye
18. Temple of Life. Grove of Death
19. Tas is Bored. Conversation with a Specter. Powerful Kender Magic
20. White Robes. Black Armor
21. The Gate Opens. Nuitari’s Garden. The Way is Prepared
22. Suspicions. Introspection. Raistlin’s Laboratory
23. Dalamar Returns. A Message. Usha’s Magic
24. The Chamber of Seeing
25. The Well Dressed Dearf. Double or Nothing
26. The Laboratory. Tasslehoff Takes the Initiative (Among Other Things)
27. The Thieves’ Guild. The New Apprentice
Book 3
1. The Warning. Three Come Together. Tanis Must Choose
2. The Return. The Trial. Sentence is Passed
3. Ariakan’s Battle Plan. Steel’s Own Battle
4. A Discussion Between Old Friends. Sturm Brightblade Asks a Favor
5. Promise Made. Promise Kept
6. The Dragons Silent. The Door Open. Someone Waiting on the Other Side
7. The Abyss. The Search. An Immortal Council
8. Disappointment. Victory is Ours. The Surrender
9. The Portal. Old Friends Return. Tasslehoff’s Confession
10. A Prisoner. The Lashing
11. Queen’s Vengeance. Raistlin’s Choice
Book 4
1. A Changing World. The Inn. An Unexpected Visitor
2. Regrets. Instructions. Choices
3. Brothers. Together Again
4. Father and Daughter
5. Return to Palanthas. The Mage Ware Shop. A Gray Knight’s Suspicions
6. Jenna’s Agent. The Goose and Gander. Awfully Fine Ginger Beer
7. The Brawl. Escape. Thieves’ Way
8. A Frightening Encounter. The Rescue. Usha’s Friends
9. The Great Library. Bertrem is Shocked. Astinus of Palanthas
10. The Choice
11. The Execution
12. Old Friends. A Proposed Meeting
13. The Note. Usha’s Plan. A Disturbance in the Library
14. The Nightlord Accuses. Palin Responds. A Dark Omen
15. Unease. Paths Cross. Dry Lightning
16. The Dragontrap
17. The Trap is Sprung
18. All Must Join as One
19. Rumors. Thunder and Flame. Setting Sail
20. Cinder and Ash
21. Dougan Redhammer. The Graygem. Minions of Chaos
22. Tasslehoff in Trouble. Dougan’s Plan. The Thief
23. I am not Nothing!
24. The Dark Warrir. Plotting. The Nature of the Enemy
25. Orders. Hidden Away
26. The Vision
27. Preparations
28. The Gift. Instructions
29. Into the Abyss. The Book, The Staff, the Sword
30. Chaos. The Father. All and Nothing
31. The Light. The Thorn. A Knife Called Rabbitslayer
32. Rain. Autumn. Farewell
Epilogue
Excerpt from Night of Blood
About the Authors
In southernmost country
where the Icewall rises
in pale and seasonal sun,
where the legends freeze
in remembered dew
and the downed mercury,
they ready the long vats
in memory’s custom
pouring gold, pouring amber,
the old distillations
of grain, of bardic blood
and ice and remembrance.
And into the waters the bard descends
into gold, into amber
all the while listening
to the dark amniosis
of current and memory
flowing about him,
until the lung, the dilating heart
give way in the waters,
until he fills with listening
and the world rushes into him
deeper than thought, and he drowns
or addles, or emerges a bard.
In the north it is done otherwise:
wisely under the moon
where the phases labor
out of darkness to the light
of coins and mirrors
in abundant freedoms of air.
I heard you were strangers
to the wronged country
where the bards descend,
to the waters where faith
transforms into vision,
to the night’s elixir,
to the last drowning breath
given over to memory
where poetry comes, solitary.
I heard you were strangers
in the merciful north,
that Hylo, Solamnia,
and a dozen unnameable provinces
cleansed you past envy,
past loneliness.
Then the waters told me the truth:
how much you remember your deaths
where the halves of a kingdom
unite in a lost terrain,
how you pass like moons, red
and silver,
your destination celestial west,
an alliance of mercy and light.
From the outset the heavens
had this in mind, a passage
through darkness and suspect country,
its vanishing point in sunlight
in the air and the earth’s
horizons—
not drowning, nor the harp’s flood.
O you have never forgotten
the bard’s immersion, the
country of sleep,
the time preceding the birth of
the worlds
where all of us waited
in the mothering dark,
in the death that the card foretells,
but alone and together you ride
into the dying the dying
the story that means we are starting
again …
BOOK 1
1
The landing party. The Prophecy. An unexpected encounter.
t was hot that morning, damnably hot.
Far too hot for late spring on Ansalon. Almost as hot as midsummer. The two knights, seated in the boat’s stern, were sweating and miserable in their heavy steel armor; they looked with envy at the half-naked men plying the boat’s oars.
The knights’ black armor, adorned with skull and death lily, had been blessed by the high cleric, was supposed to withstand the vagaries of wind and rain, heat and cold. But their Dark Queen’s blessing was apparently not responding to this unseasonable heat wave. When the boat drew near the shore, the knights were first out, jumping into the shallow water, laving the water onto their reddening faces and sun-burned necks. But the water was not particularly refreshing.
“Like wading in hot soup,” one of the knights grumbled, splashing ashore. Even as he spoke, he scrutinized the shoreline carefully, eyeing bush and tree and dune for signs of life.
“More like blood,” said his comrade. “Think of it as wading in the blood of our enemies, the enemies of our queen. Do you see anything?”
“No,” the other replied. He waved his hand without looking back, heard the sound of men leaping into the water, their harsh laughter and conversation in their uncouth, guttural language.
One of the knights turned around. “Bring that boat to shore,” he said unnecessarily, for the men had already picked up the heavy boat, were running with it through the shallow water. Grinning, they dumped the boat on the sand beach and looked to the knight for further orders.
He mopped his forehead, marveled at their strength and—not for the first time—thanked Queen Takhisis that these barbarians were on their side. The brutes, they were known as. Not the true name of their race. That name—their name for themselves—was unpronounceable, and so the knights who led the barbarians had begun calling them the shortened version: brutes.
The name suited the barbarians well. They came from the east, from a continent that few people on Ansalon knew existed. Every one of the men stood well over six feet; some were as tall as seven. Their bodies were as bulky and muscular as humans, but their movements were as swift and graceful as elves. Their ears were pointed like those of the elves, but their faces were heavily bearded like humans or dwarves. They were as strong as dwarves, and loved battle as well as dwarves. They fought fiercely, were loyal to those who commanded them, and—outside of a few grotesque customs, such as cutting off various parts of the body of a dead enemy to keep as trophies—the brutes were ideal foot soldiers.
“Let the captain know we’ve arrived safely and that we’ve encountered no resistance,” said the knight to his comrade. “We’ll leave a couple of men here with the boat, move inland.”
The other knight nodded. Taking a red silk pennant from his belt, he unfurled it, held it above his head, and waved it slowly three times. An answering flutter of red could be seen coming from the enormous black dragon-prowed ship anchored some distance away. This was a scouting mission, not an invasion. Orders had been quite clear on that point.
The knights sent out their patrols, dispatching some to range up and down the beach, sending others farther inland, where towering hills of chalk-white rock—barren of vegetation—rose from the trees like cat claws to tear at the sky. Breaks in the rock led to the island’s interior. The ship had sailed around the island; now they knew it was not large. Their patrols would be back soon.
This done, the two knights moved thankfully to the meager shadow cast by a squat and misshapen tree. Two of the brutes stood guard. The knights remained wary, watchful, even as they rested. Seating themselves, they drank sparingly of the fresh water they’d brought with them. One of them grimaced.
“The damn stuff’s hot.”
“You left the waterskin sitting in the sun. Of course it’s hot.”
“Where the devil was I supposed to put it? There was no shade on that cursed boat. I don’t think there’s any shade left in the whole blasted world. I don’t like this place at all. I get a queer feeling about this island, like it’s magicked or something.”
“I know what you mean,” agreed his comrade somberly. He kept glancing about, back into the trees, up and down the beach. All he could see were the brutes, and they were certainly not bothered by any ominous feelings. But then they were barbarians. “We were warned not to come here, you know.”
“What?” The other knight looked astonished. “I didn’t know. Who told you that?”
“Brightblade. He had it from Lord Ariakan himself.”
“Brightblade should know. He’s on Ariakan’s staff, though I hear he’s asked to be transferred to a fighting talon. Plus Ariakan’s his sponsor.” The knight appeared nervous, asked softly, “Such information’s not secret, is it?”
The other knight appeared amused. “You don’t know Steel Brightblade very well if you think he would break any oath, pass along information he was told to keep to himself. He’d sooner let his tongue be ripped out by red-hot tongs. No, Lord Ariakan discussed things openly with all the regimental commanders before deciding to proceed.”
The knight shrugged. Picking up a handful of pebbles, he began tossing them idly into the water. “The Gray Knights started it all. Some sort of augury revealed the location of this island and that it was inhabited by large numbers of people.”
“
So who warned us not to come?”
“The Gray Knights. The same augury which told them of this island warned them not to come near it. They tried to persuade Ariakan to leave well enough alone. Said that this place could mean disaster.”
The other knight frowned, glanced around with growing unease. “Then why were we sent?”
“The upcoming invasion of Ansalon. Lord Ariakan felt this move was necessary to protect his flanks. The Gray Knights couldn’t say exactly what sort of threat this island posed. Nor could they say specifically that the disaster would be caused by our landing on the island. As Lord Ariakan pointed out, disaster might come even if we did nothing. And so he decided to follow the old dwarven dictum: It is better to go looking for the dragon than have the dragon go looking for you.”
“Good thinking,” his companion agreed. “If there is an army of Solamnic Knights on this island, it’s better that we deal with them now. Not that it seems likely.”
He gestured at the wide stretches of sand beach, at the dunes covered with grayish green grass, and, farther inland, a forest of the ugly, misshapen trees butting up against the clawlike hills. “I can’t imagine why the Solamnics would come here. I can’t imagine why anyone would come here. Elves wouldn’t live in a place this ugly.”
“No caves, so the dwarves wouldn’t like it. Minotaur would have attacked us by now. Kender would have walked off with the boat and our armor. Gnomes would have met us with some sort of fiend-driven fish-catching machine. Humans like us are the only race foolish enough to live on such a wretched isle,” the knight concluded cheerfully. He picked up another handful of rocks.
“Perhaps a rogue band of draconians or hobgoblins. Ogres even. Escaped twenty-some odd years ago, after the War of the Lance. Fled north, across the sea, to avoid capture by the Solamnic Knights.”
“Yes, but they’d be on our side,” his companion answered. “And our knight wizards wouldn’t have their gray robes in a knot over it. Ah, here come our scouts, back to report. Now we’ll find out.”
The knights rose to their feet. The brutes who had been sent into the island’s interior hurried forward to meet their leaders. The barbarians were grinning hugely. Their near-naked bodies glistened with sweat. The blue paint, with which they had covered themselves, and which was supposed to possess some sort of magical properties such as causing arrows to bounce right off, ran down their muscular bodies in rivulets. Long scalp-locks, decorated with colorful feathers, bounced on their backs as they loped easily over the sand dunes.