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Red on Red	By : Sylviana_of_Qualinost Category: A through F > Dragonlance Views: 4499 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonlance or any of the characters. DL belongs to Wizards of the Coast and Weis and Hickman. No money is made from these installments.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Chapter 5: An Obvious Trap.

The next several days passed without incident as the small troop travelled onward to Hope's End. After her initial discovery regarding Raistlin's golden skin, Silviana made no further progress. In truth, she found herself stunted. A magical shield was not exactly a health issue, although she did suspect that since all magic is an expenditure of energy, a constant, albeit unconscious, maintenance of a magical shield must be draining physically in some respect. Nevertheless, there was truly nothing she could do as this arcane magic was something lost to time. Neither did it help that Raistlin grew outwardly more annoyed at her presence since that first night. Silviana did not know what she had done that made him shrink from her now with something akin to severe dislike, when he had appeared so close to dropping his guard around her.

More bothersome still was that she found herself disappointed at being denied this nearness. Silviana was not a naive maiden who could not recognise the symptoms of attraction and she knew without a doubt that she felt them keenly now. Silviana had always been drawn to the mysterious and the dangerous, and there was no denying that Raistlin was both. His strange physical appearance fascinated her to a point nearing arousal and the intense aura of powerful magic which radiated from him lured her as a moth to a flame. But he was untouchable, and after the night when she had been allowed to touch him and test her theory about the shield, a night when she could have sworn she saw a responding warmth in his golden eyes, he had become doubly cold.

Silviana sighed, thinking with dismay, that it was probably for the best. She usually made bad choices regarding men, as was proven by her last liaison. Silviana had fallen in love with a young elf from the royal family, someone above her station. He too had loved her and they pursued their illicit relationship for many months before being found out. The ensuing scandal could have been fatal to his reputation had it been made public and it was only due to her own family's important standing that a pardon for Silviana's transgression was grudgingly granted. Broken hearted and miserable, Silviana was relieved when a summons came from Par-Salian and traveled to Wayreth with the intent to never return to her elven homeland. Long months of study and absorption in her art allowed the elf-woman to find peace at long last and put the memory of her sordid love affair behind her. Now this new attraction threatened to break her calm and contentment and she swore to herself that she would bury the feelings beginning to take shape in her heart, refusing to let them surface. Especially because Raistlin Majere had so little interest in her.

The young mage, in turn, was angry with himself. Long ago he had had the sobering realisation that he would never be looked upon by a woman with interest, so long as Caramon was around. The one time this was not the case was embarrassing for him to remember as that encounter had exposed a mental weakness in himself which he would rather not recall. That was before the Test had left him looking the way he did now, forever casting into darkness any romantic notion that Raistlin may have had. When Silviana arrived at Langtree, the mage found a strange sort of pleasure in the fact that here was a beautiful woman, an elf at that, who was specially assigned to work with him. There were moments when his mind wandered, for which he chided himself instantly, knowing his fancies were only a result of the novel experience of being at the centre of feminine attention. After the first night in the tent, Raistlin realised the dangers of his folly. Relaxing his guard for moments, he had felt something warm and enticing begin to grow within him and knew in that moment that should he let it show, Silviana would be repulsed. Worse, he would look and feel like a fool and would never be able to live with himself, for if there is anything that he could not stand, it was idiocy. So he made the effort to be as outwardly indifferent to Silviana as possible, avoiding her presence and using the free time during rest stops on the journey to study his books in solitude.

On the sixth day of travel, the mercenary group was in sight of the woods that bordered the road as it neared Hope's End. It was nearing sundown and their leader, a gruff one-eyed man by the name of Rudd, called for a halt.

“We stop here for th' night,” he said with a pronounced lisp, “Scrounger here will go out to scout inside the parameters of the forest and report back if any sign of these bandits can be found.”

“Then what?” Caramon looked eagerly to Rudd. The big man was bored and itching for combat. “We follow their trail and surround their camp by night while they sleep?”

Rudd spat at the ground and glared at Caramon with one bright blue eye.

“We don't wanna attack them in the forest, that's their turf, ya see? We need to lead them out unto the road where we can see how many of em we are fighting and cut off any reinforcements.”

“But for that, you'll need to know how many of them there are,” Scrounger nodded knowingly.

“Exactly,” Rudd concurred. “That's what yer job is, kid. Take this hulking bear with you for protection. And Caramon,” the old merc scowled disapprovingly. “Take off all that armour and go in with your sword only. Otherwise, you'll be making so much noise that the robbers will be unto us without a doubt.”

Caramon looked sulky but complied with the command. Soon Scrounger and he were off towards the woods, leaving the rest of the mercenaries to unpack their travel gear and set up for the night. The company had procured two large waggons along with tarps in a village they had passed earlier in the day. Some of the men had at first been confused by this, however, with the camp set up, Rudd proceeded to explain the situation. Four of the men would act as wealthy merchants and sit at the front of the waggons which would be drawn by the pack horses. The rest of the men would hide inside the waggons beneath the tarps, while their horses would be stripped of their gear and tethered to look as though they were being transported to the marketplace for sale. The idea was that the bandits would come out to rob the alleged merchants and in turn be surprised and attacked by the mercenaries inside the waggons. Raistlin was to remain hidden until the last possible moment in order to give the group a further advantage, as their enemies would not being prepared to face a wizard.

Everyone was satisfied with the plan, except Silviana, who did not figure into it. When she asked Rudd what she was to do, the old merc- who was part of the faction that opposed Silviana being on this trip- stared her down with ire and said:
“You hide where they can't see you and wait for this all to be done and then take care of the wounded.” With that he turned his back to her, implying that the discussion was over.

Fuming, Silviana stormed off towards the tent, nearly tearing the opening flap off in her anger as she barged inside. Raistlin, quietly reviewing his attack spells on his bed roll, started up in annoyance at this unusual display of emotions.

“This Rudd, treats me as though I am a hindrance! Stay out of sight during the fight and tend to the wounded!” Silviana's fists were clenched and she shook with rage, glaring at Raistlin for all the world as though it was his fault.

“With all due respect, lady, you are a hindrance,” Raistlin upraised her coolly. “You are no war mage. And you cannot use any weapon other than your dagger for protection so you are utterly useless in a fight.”

Silviana's eyes darkened to a deep green, as they did only when she was experiencing a very strong emotion. She stalked over to her side of the tent and took up her pack. Slowly, she pulled out a tightly wrapped, long bundle and sitting down, thoughtfully placed it upon her lap. Looking to Raistlin with an expression that suggested they were about to share a secret, she slowly began to unwrap the object. When he could see what it was, the young mage gasped and looked with open shock at Silviana, for upon her lap rested a finely crafted short bow, and a bunch of arrows.

“I know what you are thinking Raistlin,” Silviana's eyes never left his own. “It is in breach of our protocol for me to bear a weapon other than my dagger.”

“Then why do you carry the bow?” Raistlin raised an eyebrow quizzically but his voice did not contain any judgment.

Silviana flushed.

“I had been trained as a ranger, for as a younger member of one of House Mystic's multiple families, it was never certain that I would even have enough magic to be deemed worthy of taking the Test. My abilities were... questionable by elven standards. I learned the bow to allow me to have another potential occupation should I not become a mage or be conveniently married off. As it were, I found that I liked it and even after taking the Test, I could not put it away for good.”

“I begin to suspect why you are a mage of the red,” Raistlin mused softly. “Although the healing is an inherent quality of the whites, you do not choose to adhere to rules but wish to follow your own path.”

Silviana gave a small nod, feeling her anger leave her.

“And I hate to feel useless,” she said in a raspy voice. “You are right, I am no war-mage. I cannot cast fire missiles and my bolts of lightning are hardly adequate. That small display from the other night,” Silviana gestured to her injured arm, “was the extent of my abilities. But I am a damn good shot.”

“If you worry that I would reveal your secret to the Conclave, I assure you that I will not. However, I cannot make that promise for Horkin or any other mage we may come across.”

“I know,” Silviana said meekly, “I suppose one day, it will get me in trouble. But quite honestly, I don't give a damn.” Her eyes glittered dangerously and in that moment, Raistlin could not help but admire the woman. He admired her and detested her for making him admire her, as with his admiration that other unwanted feeling threatened to come to the fore of his being.

“Oh and I would not be too concerned about not being able to shoot missiles,” he smiled wryly, “Horkin will whip you into shape in no time.”

Silviana stared at him blankly a moment then burst out into hearty laughter. She laughed until she bawled and then until tears fell streaming down her face. Raistlin was bemused, which showed on his pointed face clearly, but his expression only made her laugh all that much harder.

“You are strange, Silviana,” Raistlin told her once she had laughed her fill. “From all I have been lead to believe, elves are reserved and cool. They do not show excessive emotions- unless they are contempt and disgust for those of other races. They are not warm and compassionate to the suffering of us humans. And above all, they adhere to rules and dislike change. At least these are the things that I have heard. You.. you are nothing like this.”

Silviana was startled and was just about to reply when a commotion broke out inside the camp. Caramon and Scrounger had returned. Glad to avoid talking about herself as much as possible, Silviana took this opportunity to suggest that they see what is going on.

Outside, the men were gathered around the two who have just returned from the expedition. Caramon was by the fire, devouring no doubt double the share of the evening's rabbit stew while Scrounger described what they had seen. Eager interest adorned the faces of the other mercenaries, their features lit up by the glaring camp fire and accentuated by the falling darkness around them.

“We found tracks almost right away,” Scrounger was saying excitedly. “Caramon wanted to follow the main path, but I veered off on a side trail and there they were! Tracks of many armed men, leading into the heart of the forest. We followed the tracks about three-quarters of an hour until we reached their camp. It is in a small glade surrounded by evergreens just north-east of here. I had no troubles sneaking up to the border, as there were no guards set up, see.”

Rudd was rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“And what did you see once you were there?”

“Not much, to tell the truth. They were all gathered around a fire- there were maybe thirty of them. Big and hulking fellows mostly, but some hobs and gobs as well.”

“Thirty you say? I am surprised that that small a force was able to cause so much havoc.” Rudd said.

“I do not like this, sir,” Raistlin came forward. “It was too easy for us to locate them. And the fact that there were no sentries posted is suspicious. Almost like they wanted us to see exactly what we saw.”

“To carry the wrong information back to camp, yes.” Rudd agreed. “This is strange indeed. However, our current plan of action is still the best we got. We will go along with it but proceed with caution. There may well be a trap here somewhere.”

Raistlin cleared his throat tentatively.

“If I may, sir, I have an alternative idea.”

***

As it turned out, there was indeed a trap. The bandits may have been cutthroat deserters from a dragon army, but they were well organised and had informers in close by towns. One of their men had been in the village that the mercenaries passed through earlier that day and overheard them talking of their task and purchasing waggons. That information was passed down a swift and secret network of spies until it reached the ring-leader of the outlaws. In the end, it was just as Raistlin suspected.

The outlaw leader, Terris Loft, had a knack for improvisation. Formerly a mercenary from Port Balifor, he had been one of the first to arrive in the North when a rumour of armies was just beginning to drift over Ansalon. Lacking the necessary artistry to fake humility before Ariakas, Terris was considered too dangerous to be made commander of his own army and thus the task had fallen unto Kholos. Terris fumed then and he fumed, even more, when the siege of Hope's End finished in disaster for their side. He now harboured no love for either side of the conflict, and as these things often go, decided to band together any who would follow and make an army of sorts of his own. His current plan was to starve out Hope's End by intersecting any trade that might profit the town and, when enough time has passed, to infiltrate the city through stealth and attack from the inside, thus making his that which the incompetent commander Kholos failed to appropriate.

Terris' best advantage came as is usual with surprise. What Caramon and Scrounger had assumed was a small band of thirty or so men, was in fact, a well-organized force of about three hundred, dispersed and hidden throughout the woods. The young men had seen exactly what Terris had wanted them to see, in order to put the smaller mercenary force at ease, and thus to more easily overwhelm them. Terris was used to mercenaries and knew that the bulk of the men would not be especially bright. His hopes then were not to kill, but to capture the band with the intent of persuading the men to join him. It was, after all, a matter of profit and it would not be unusual for mercenaries to switch sides when better stakes were offered. A handful of well-trained warriors would serve Terris better alive than dead.

***

Dawn broke out upon the misty road and the small band of mercenaries proceeded with some alterations upon their mission. After studying a map of the terrain more closely, it had been decided that Raistlin along with his twin, Silviana and Scrounger would follow an alternate path that paralleled the main route that the others would take concealed in the waggons. A few miles down the road there was a sharp downward slope that would bring them into a vale closely surrounded by trees. There was no question in anyone's mind that this was the perfect spot for an ambush to take place.

Scrounger had been sent out once more to discover if there was a parallel path to the main route that looked like it had not been used. Such there was, although it was nothing more than a game trail that seems the bandits had overlooked. Whatever the case, the path went more or less alongside the road and was concealed enough that a few travellers could hide easily behind the brush. Better yet, this path eventually lead to a hill rise which commanded a view of the vale in which the proposed ambush was to take place. There were no traces of human passage and as such, this provided a decent hideout for the four companions who would stay out of the initial fray. It was lucky for the band that the force of the outlaws was situated on the northern side of the woods, leaving the southern untouched.

The four companions left an hour before the rest, with the intent of keeping a close watch on the area and giving ample warning to the rest if there was something amiss. Silviana brought her short bow. In the event that they should see something suspicious, she was to set the arrow on fire and shoot it into the sky. This placed them in a precarious position, as it might give the rest of the mercenaries enough time to retreat from the danger zone, but would leave their own position exposed. Nevertheless, it had to be tried.

The trek along the game trail was a simple one, as was finding a good look out spot on the hill rise. The vale with the road passing through was directly beneath them.

“Silviana, use your elven vision and tell us if you can see anything,” Raistlin gave the command. It had been his idea that the elf-woman come along, as her vision was infinitely better than that of a human, in addition to which she had trained as a ranger, honing her sharp eyes to see enemies hiding among the trees.

Obediently, Silviana began to look across the road into the other section of forest sprawling out behind it. Almost instantly, she could make out figures hiding beneath the cover of leaves and bushes, sitting still and ready for action. She took a head count and relaxed.

“Thirty. Just as Scrounger had counted,” Silviana confirmed.

“Whew, that is a relief,” said the half-kender with a whistle. “I guess they are just poorly organised.”

“We had better get back to the rest before they reach the vale, or we will miss all the fighting,” Caramon eagerly began to descend the hill rise, but Raistlin grabbed hold of his shoulder.

“No brother,” the mage spoke softly but firmly. “We stay here. There is something amiss here and I know it.”

Caramon halted, frowning.

“Sure Raist, if you say so.”

Raistlin's attention turned to Silviana and his thin fingers clutched her wrist none to gently.

“What else do you see? Look harder!”

Silviana found it hard to concentrate with him touching her, but she obeyed. Come to think of it, she too could feel that something was wrong. There was a distant, yet familiar, tingle to the atmosphere. And then it struck her.

“Raistlin! You feel that don't you?” Silviana's slanted eyes widened as she looked at him in alarm.

Raistlin hissed an acknowledgement and let go of her wrist sharply.

“What is it?” Scrounger and Caramon asked in unison.

“Magic! There is a mage down there preparing a spell,” Raistlin looked to Silviana, “which one is it?”

Silviana looked as hard as she could, but even her vision had its limits.

“I -I don't know! I can't make out which one it is!” She felt herself begin to shake.

“Useless!” Raistlin rounded on her in anger, “then light the damn arrow! The men are almost at the vale.”

Sure enough, they can see from their vantage point the two waggons which held the hidden mercenaries come into view. Soon they would enter the vale and fall victim to the ambush.

Silviana felt tears sting her eyes at Raistlin's insult but her hands were steady as she put an arrow to her bow and cast a simple spell to ignite the end. Pointing straight up in the air, she let her missile fly, streaking a bright ribbon of fire across the morning sky.

“Now we must get away before they come to investigate!” Scrounger insisted and they began to scramble quickly down the hill.

In that moment the aura of magic intensified around them and Silviana and Raistlin looked at each other in alarm.

“Damn it to the Abyss!” Raistlin cried, reaching for his spell components. But it was too late. Everything went black around them, obscuring their vision; a magic- wrought darkness that let them see no more.
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Red on Red