The group gathered round to examine the man. He wore chain mail that was of good quality, if rather tarnished. His clothes were rich, though the cloth had worn thin in places. He appeared to be in his late thirties. His hair was thick and black, his chin firm, and his features regular. The stranger opened his eyes and stared up at the companions blearily.

"Thank the gods of the Seekers!" he said hoarsely. "My friends-are they all dead?"

"Worry about yourself first," Sturm said sternly. "Tell us who your friends were-the humans or the hobgoblins?"

'The humans-fighters against the dragonmen." The man broke off, his eyes widening. "Gilthanas?"

"Eben," Gilthanas said in quiet surprise. "How did you survive the battle at the ravine?"

"How did you, for that matter?" The man named Eben tried to stagger to his feet. Caramon reached out a hand to help him when suddenly Eben pointed. "Look out! Drac-"

Caramon whipped around, letting Eben fall back with a groan. The others turned'to see twelve draconians standing at the edge of the clearing, weapons drawn.

"All strangers in the land are to be taken to the Dragon Highlord for questioning," one called out. "We charge you to come with us peacefully."

"No one was supposed to know about this path to Sla-Mori," Sturm whispered to Tanis with a meaningful glance at Gilthanas. "According to the elf, that is!"

"We do not take orders from Lord Verminaard!" Tanis yelled, ignoring Sturm.

"You will, soon enough," the draconian said and waved its arm. The creatures surged forward to attack.

Fizban, standing near the edge of the woods, pulled something from his pouch and began to mumble a few words.

"Not Fireball!" Raistlin hissed, grabbing the old mage's arm. "You'll incinerate everyone out there!"

"Oh, really? I suppose you're right." The old mage sighed in disappointment, then brightened. "Wait-I'll think of something else."

"Just stay here, under cover!" Raistlin ordered. "I'm going to my brother."

"Now, what was that web spell?" The old man pondered.

Tika, her new sword drawn and ready, trembled with fear and excitement. One draconian rushed her and she swung a tremendous blow. The blade missed the draconian by a mile, Caramon's head by inches. Pulling Tika behind him, he knocked the draconian down with the flat of his sword. Before it could rise, he stepped on its throat, breaking its neck.

"Get behind me," he said to Tika, then glanced down at the sword she was still waving around wildly. "On second thought," Caramon amended nervously, "run over to those trees with the old man and Goldmoon. There's a good girl."

"I will not!" Tika said indignantly. "I'll show him," she muttered, her sweaty palms slipping on the hilt of the sword. Two more draconians charged Caramon, but his brother was beside him now-the two combining magic and steel to destroy their enemy. Tika knew she would only get in their way, and she feared Raistlin's anger more than she feared draconians. She looked around to see if anyone needed her help. Sturm and Tanis fought side by side. Gilthanas made an unlikely team with Flint, while Tasslehoff-his hoopak planted solidly in the ground-sent a deadly barrage of rocks whizzing onto the field. Goldmoon stood beneath the trees, Riverwind near her.

The old magician had pulled out a spellbook and was flipping through its pages.

"Web… web… how did that go?" he mumbled.

"Aaarrrgghh!" A screech behind Tika nearly caused her to swallow her tongue. Whirling around, she dropped her sword in alarm as a draconian, laughing horribly, launched itself into the air straight at her. Panic-stricken, Tika gripped her shield in both hands and struck the draconian in its hideous, reptilian face. The impact nearly jarred the shield from her hands, but it knocked the creature onto its back, unconscious. Tika picked up her sword and, grimacing in disgust, stabbed the creature through the heart. Its body immediately turned to stone, encasing her sword. Tika yanked at it, but it remained stuck fast.

"Tika, to your left!" yelled Tasslehoff shrilly.

Tika stumbled around and saw another draconian. Swinging her shield, she blocked its sword thrust. Then, with a strength born of terror, she hit at the creature again and again with her shield, knowing only that she had to kill the thing. She kept bashing until she felt a hand on her arm. Whipping around, her blood-stained shield ready, she saw Caramon.

"It's all right!" the big warrior said soothingly. "It's all over, Tika. They're all dead. You did fine, just fine."

Tika blinked. For a moment she didn't recognize the warrior. Then, with a shudder, she lowered her shield.

"I wasn't very good with the sword," she said, starting to tremble in reaction to her fear and the memory of the horrible creature lunging at her.

Caramon saw her start to shake. He reached out and clasped her in his arms, stroking the sweat-damp red curls.

"You were braver than many men I've seen-experienced warriors," the big man said in a deep voice.

Tika looked up into Caramon's eyes. Her terror melted away, replaced by exultation. She pressed against Caramon. The feel of his hard muscles, the smell of sweat mingled with leather, increased her excitement. Tika flung her arms around his neck and kissed him with such violence her teeth bit into his lip. She tasted blood in her mouth.

Caramon, astonished, felt the tingle of pain, an odd contrast to the softness of her lips, and was overwhelmed with desire. He wanted this woman more than any other woman-and there had been many-in his life. He forgot where he was, who was around him. His brain and his blood were on fire, and he ached with the pain of his passion. Crushing Tika to his chest, he held her and kissed her with bruising intensity.

The pain of his embrace was delicious to Tika. She longed for the pain to grow and envelop her, but at the same time, she felt suddenly cold and afraid. Remembering stories told by the other barmaids of the terrible, wonderful things that happened between men and women, she began to panic.

Caramon completely lost all sense of reality. He caught Tika up in his arms with a wild idea of carrying her into the woods, when he felt a cold, familiar hand on his shoulder.

The big man stared at his brother and regained his senses with a gasp. He gently set Tika on her feet. Dizzy and disoriented, she opened her eyes to see Raistlin standing beside his brother, regarding her with his strange, glittering stare.

Tika's face burned. She backed away, stumbled over the body of the draconian, then picked up her shield and ran.

Caramon swallowed, cleared his throat, and started to say something, but Raistlin simply glanced at him in disgust and walked back to rejoin Fizban. Caramon, trembling like a newborn colt, sighed shakily and walked over to where Sturm, Tanis, and Gilthanas stood, talking to Eben.

"No, I'm fine," the man assured them. "I just felt a little faint when I saw those creatures, that's all. You really have a cleric among you? That's wonderful, but don't waste her healing powers on me. Just a scratch. It's more their blood than mine. My party and I were tracking these draconians through the woods when we were attacked by at least forty hobgoblins."

"And you alone live to tell the tale," Gilthanas said.

"Yes," Eben replied, returning the elf's suspicious gaze. "I am an expert swordsman-as you know. I killed these"-he gestured to the bodies of six hobgoblins who lay around him- "then fell to the overwhelming numbers. The rest must have assumed I was dead and left me. But, enough of my heroics. You fellows are pretty good with swords yourselves. Where are you headed?"

"Some place called the Sla-" began Caramon, but Gilthanas cut him off.

"Our journey is secret," Gilthanas said. Then he added in a tentative voice. "We could use an expert swordsman."