Chapter 2
After the greetings had concluded, they took their seats and sipped their tea. Mora shifted uncomfortably under Raistlin's gaze, knowing that he probably had many questions to which he deserved answers, but she wasn't sure what she was going to tell him. Mora had never told anyone of her ring, not even her mother, and she wasn't about to start now.
"Let me just begin by saying that I am in your dept, Raistlin," said Mora, breaking the silence that had settled over the group. "I know that if someone had dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night, I would be pretty angry. But you came to the aid of Aunt Meggin and myself anyway. Please, there must be some way for me to repay you."
Raistlin folded his hands, "As I told Mistress Meggin, the knowledge I gained from this experience is payment enough," he paused, regarding Mora intently. "Of course, there is something you could do."
"Please, tell me," she said with a smile.
"After seeing your wound and hearing about the wounds on your attackers, I am wondering what happened out there. Finding the answers to this would be the best way to repay me," Raistlin said, inclining his head slightly, watching the quick, almost undetectable flicker of emotion cross Mora's face. It wasn't pain or horror at the recollection of the incident. 'What is she hiding?' Raistlin wondered as the smile rapidly returned to her face.
"That's a good request, Raistlin," said Mistress Meggin. "Since I found you lying on the ground, bleeding, I've been wanting to ask you the same question." she said to Mora.
"Perhaps I should start from the beginning," said Mora. "I was dressed as a boy for protection; it truly isn't safe for a girl to be traveling alone or with a man she doesn't know." Mora paused, drinking some of her tea. "I started my trip from Haven, but you already know that. On the road, all went well until the last night we would be camping outside of a town. Just as we were about to make camp, those men attacked us. They came to the back of the cart where I was hiding and pulled me out. The one who grabbed me spun me around and my hood fell off, revealing that I was really a girl. From there, it all got worse. One of the men had a crossbow, which he used to kill the man I was traveling with. I got away and began to run, but I turned around when I heard one of the men chanting. As my aunt probably told you, my father was a white robed mage, so I know spell casting when I hear it. I reached into my tunic, and threw my dagger at the one speaking. It hit him just as he was about to cast the spell, which caused it to go awry. The bolts of lightening that had been intended for me, instead struck his companions. I guess as the one with the crossbow fell, his weapon went off and shot me threw the side. That's all I remember." she looked to Raistlin, who slowly nodded his head once.
"Well, you're lucky to be alive," said Mistress Meggin.
"Moving on to more pleasant things...Raistlin, I see that you yourself are an aspiring magus. Tell me, where do you study?" Mora asked, noticing the robes he wore.
"I study in the school of magic, run by Master Theobald."
"Oh. So how long have you been studying there?" asked Mora, curious about the man who had saved her life.
"Since I was a very young child. It's the only place I have ever studied," Raistlin said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. Raistlin said as he rose to his feet, "Thank you for your hospitality, Mistress Meggin, but I must leave."
"Of course, Raistlin. Farwell." Mistress Meggin said as she rose to take the cups and uneaten sweetbread to the kitchen.
"I'll see Raistlin to the door, Aunt Meggin," said Mora, following him.
Once the two reached the door, Mora asked Raistlin another question about his studies in magic, the one she had been going to ask before he had risen to leave.
"And this upsets you, not having ever studied anywhere else? Is Master Theobald not measuring up to your expectations?"
"I have found that in life, many things don't measure up to my expectations," said Raistlin, with a wry smile.
"Would you care to elaborate on that?" she asked returning the wry smile with an arched eyebrow.
"Take for example, your story," he began, "Although your aunt may have believed it, I certainly did not. If the man with a crossbow had his weapon loaded, the mage would have had no reason to cast a spell. The bandits wouldn't have left you standing unguarded, just because there is the chance that you could escape and warn the people of Solace about them."
Raistlin paused before making one last point. "And I find it hard to believe that when the spell was cast, it hit every man, but not you. But thank you for the amusing story, it was worth the visit."
Mora's smile never faded, "Goodnight, Raistlin. I look forward to our next meeting."
Raistlin left Mistress Meggin's house, not quite sure of what to make of her very beautiful niece.
"It's okay, boy. I'm just going to walk over this way and to the door..." It was two weeks later, and Tasslehoff was trying as best as he could to get around the old, gray wolf whose growling jaws prevented his passage to Mistress Meggin's house. "Look over here," he said waving part of a sandwich he had pulled from one of his pouches. "If you let me by, I'll give you this yummy food..." The wolf seemed to grow angrier at this and began to approach Tasslehoff. "Uh, never mind," he said throwing the sandwich at the animal. Tasslehoff ran toward the door and had almost reached it when he was barreled down and was face to face with those o-so-sharp teeth.
Suddenly the heavy body was removed from Tasslehoff and he was looking straight into the face of an angry Mistress Meggin.
"What are you doing here, kender?" she asked coldly.
"Hello, Mistress Meggin," he began as he stood up, brushing off the seat of his pants. "I'm Tasslehoff Burrfoot. I'm here to see Mora."
"No, your not. Go home." Mistress Meggin started to close her door and Tasslehoff quickly put his hoopak through the opening. "Move your stick."
"Oh, look at that." He looked at Mistress Meggin, hoping that the face he gave her was one that showed what a great person he was. He guessed it didn't work when Mistress Meggin shoved the door harder, knocking the hoopak out of the way, and Tasslehoff once again went flying to the ground.
"Who was that?" asked Mora, looking up from the dried herbs she was putting in jars.
"A kender." said Mistress Meggin.
"What did he want?"
"To see you." Mistress Meggin went to the sink, rinsing off herbs that she would be drying later.
"Me?" asked Mora. "Why?"
"Oh, he was the one sent to bring the Majere twins to you. I guess that he was curious to see what you were like."
"Well, in that case," Mora brushed off her dress as she stood up. "I will talk to him a bit, I owe that much to him."
"I hope you know what you are doing. Kender are like stray dogs; once you pay attention to them, they never leave you alone."
"I'll be back before dark. I might stop by the clothier's store, to see if he'll hire me." Mora said, not paying any heed to her warning. Kissing her aunt goodbye, she flew out the door, before Mistress Meggin could object.
Mora rushed to catch up with the kender who had decided to leave when the wolf tried to bite him. "Kender!" she shouted. "Wait up!"
Tasslehoff turned around and looked at Mora, his eyes as wide as milk saucers. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Mora Taeon. I heard you were looking for me."
"Wow, you are really pretty! You looked really bad when I first saw you, you were all covered in dirt and stuff. I'm Tasslehoff Burrfoot. Did you know I helped save you?"
"So I've heard. Well met, Tasslehoff. Let's walk for a while," Mora said, falling into step with the kender.
"You can call me Tas. You should come back with me to my home and meet Flint. He was really worried about you when he heard you were hurt and he tried to help, but your aunt didn't let him."
"Then take me to your home," Mora said with a smile. "By the way, who's Flint?"
On the walk to the home of Flint Fireforge and Tasslehoff Burrfoot, the odd pair were met with many stares, which were all directed at Mora. No one said anything to them though, except for a few of the teenage boys who introduced themselves and were politely told, by Mora, her name. The duo finally reached the house, which, to Mora's surprise, was on ground level and made of stone.
"Come out back," said Tas, taking Mora's hand and leading her to the back of the house. There, Mora was greeted by the clashing of blades. Two young men were practicing their sword fighting with a dwarf coaching them on. "Flint, Flint!" yelled Tasslehoff. "Look who came to visit! It's Mora, Mistress Meggin's niece!"
"Who?" asked Flint as the kender hopped up and down.
Mora extended her hand, "Mora Taeon, the niece of Mistress Meggin. Tas has informed me that you were one of the people from this town who helped out in cleaning up the cart and bodies."
"Yes, lass, I was," said Flint, gripping her hand. "So what did happen out there?"
Before Mora could answer, the swordfighters stopped and came over to offer their greetings. One walked over dignified, if not rigidly, and the other came over, almost gawking at her. "I am Mora Taeon. And you are?" she asked the young men.
"Sturm Brightblade, miss," said the first man, bowing low and bringing her hand to his lips.
"Caramon Majere," said the other, holding her small hand in his large one. "I carried you to your aunt's house." He smiled broadly and didn't let go of her hand right away, causing Mora to politely, yet firmly, extract her hand.
"Thank you, Caramon," said Mora. "You're Raistlin's brother, correct?" she asked doubtfully, for although there was a resemblance between the two, Caramon was much taller and wider than the slim Raistlin, and his features weren't as fine boned as Raistlin's.
"Yup, he's my twin." said Caramon.
"I'm sorry to say that I don't have anything to give you to show my gratitude for your help, but I can offer to cook us a meal at your home sometime, if you like."
"Sure, your aunt said you would do something like this," said the grinning Caramon.
"Enough already," said Flint. "Back to practicing."
Mora sat and watched as Caramon and Sturm practiced some more. Tas chattered casually with her, and after about an hour, the training for the day ended. Mora stood up and saying her goodbyes, she began to walk away.
"Mora!" called Caramon. She turned around.
"Yes?"
"May I walk you home?" he asked.
"You could, but I'm not going home just yet. I'm going to the clothier's shop to see if I can get work there. You could lead there, since I don't know where it is."
Caramon readily agreed and they soon reached their destination. Mora entered the shop to find a short, balding man with thick spectacles perched on his nose, talking to a woman who was interested in a dress.
"Can I help you?" he asked when the other woman had finally left.
Caramon stood outside the shop, waiting for Mora to come out, although she had told him not to wait. After about fifteen minutes, Mora exited with a happy face.
"Caramon, you're still here? I told you that you didn't have to stand here for me."
"That's okay," he said as they started walking. "I don't mind." Slyly, or so Caramon thought, he placed his arm over her shoulders. Mora stiffened and calmly pushed him off. Caramon chuckled and they continued the walk to Mora and Mistress Meggin's home.
"Thank you for accompanying me, Caramon." Mora said as she walked to the door, alone, since the wolf wasn't allowing Caramon to come up any further. "How does tomorrow sound for that meal? Say, an hour after sundown?"
"Sounds great," he replied.
"Hey Raist," said Caramon upon arriving home. Raistlin was preparing the twins' evening meal. "You'd never guess where I've been."
"Your right, I probably wouldn't," said Raistlin dryly.
"I've been out with Mora, Mistress Meggin's niece. You didn't say how pretty she was, after visiting her."
Raistlin didn't say anything.
"Anyway, she came by Flint's house with Tas and she met Sturm and me. When she left, I offered to walk with her. First, we went to the clothing shop, you know, the one run by Miranda's father. She wanted to get a job there, and she did, I guess, because when she came out she was real happy. Then I walked her home and to repay me for helping her, she's coming over here tomorrow night to cook a meal."
"It figures the way she'll repay you is through your stomach, Caramon," Raistlin said.
Caramon looked to Raistlin, hungrily eating the food that had just been laid out. "What makes you say that?" he asked.
"Caramon, shut up." Raistlin ate his meal in silence, disliking the feeling he got when he thought about Mora and Caramon together, and hating himself for having these feelings.
The next day passed quickly, and night soon fell. Caramon sat anxiously at the table, waiting for Mora to show up. Raistlin sneered at the thought of Mora cooking for Caramon, believing he knew why she would do something like this for him, yet for Raistlin she had answered but few questions. Returning to the kitchen, he found Caramon pacing. "Stop that and sit down, Caramon," Raistlin said sharply. "You're giving me a headache."
"Sorry, Raist," said Caramon sheepishly sitting back down. "Do you think she'll be here soon?" he asked.
"I don't know, Caramon," he said. "It was a bad idea in the first place to agree to let her come here."
"Don't say that, Raist. She's really pretty and she's real nice. Even Miranda isn't like her, although I do love her."
"I'm sure you do," Raistlin said sarcastically, deciding to go to his room and study his spells.
Before Caramon could reply, there was a quiet knocking. Caramon jumped up, almost overturning the table in the process, and opened the door.
"Hello, Caramon," greeted Mora, carrying a large basket. She entered the house and emptied out the basket. Inside was a large piece of meat, freshly cut, two loaves of bread, some potatoes, carrots, cheese, and fresh fruit. Also inside was a jug of cider and a bag of herbs, for flavoring the food. Caramon pointed out the cooking pots and Mora began to cut up the meat.
"Where's Raistlin?" she asked after a few minutes of talking with Caramon.
"I think he's in his room, studying spells or something," Caramon replied.
"Oh," she said. "It's just that I figured he'd be out here with us; I brought enough food for at least three people."
"I'll go get him," Caramon said. Rushing to the room in which Raistlin sat. "Hey, Raist, aren't you coming out?"
Raistlin looked up from the spell he had been memorizing. "Why?"
"Mora wants you to, she brought enough food for you cause she thought you'd like to eat with us."
"Maybe later," Raistlin said, going back to the book. Caramon left and soon after, Raistlin could here the two in the kitchen, laughing at something Caramon had said. 'Always the one to be charming with girls,' he thought bitterly about his brother. He sighed and went back to his book even though he could no longer study it, being too intent on trying to eavesdrop on Caramon and Mora. Raistlin slammed the book closed in frustration and got up to join them in the kitchen. He slid quietly into a seat and at first they didn't know he was there; they were too caught up in dicing of potatoes, which Caramon was failing miserably at.
"I guess I'm not a chef. I wish Raistlin were here, he'd be more of a help then I am, he cooks most of the meals." Caramon put the massacred potato back on the pile and went to sit down. "Raist!" he said happily. "You decided to come out. That's great, cause now you can help Mora."
"I don't think that she needs my help-" Raistlin began, but stopped when his eyes met Mora's.
"Actually, I could use an extra pair of hands, that is, if you don't mind." she said.
Raistlin shrugged his shoulders and went to the sink to help. He picked up Caramon's discarded knife and started cutting up potatoes, putting the pieces into the bowl that also contained the meat.
"Anyway, I still think..." said Caramon; going back to the conversation he'd been having with Mora. Raistlin paid no attention, and was silently berating at himself for having come out, while Mora responded to Caramon half-heartedly, to interested at sneaking sidelong glances at Raistlin, wondering why he seemed to be angry.
Soon all the vegetables were cut and placed into a pot along with the meat. The twins sat at the table, sipping on their cider, while Mora stood by the stove, occasionally stirring the food and cutting up the cheese. Testing the meat and finding it done, she brought the pot, cheese, and bread to the table and they ate their meal.
"So, Mora," Caramon said between bites, "Did you get that job at the clothier's shop? You never did tell me."
"Yes, I did. Mr. Adius, the owner, and I talked for a while. He realized that I had experience as a seamstress, and he hired me on the spot. I start work in two days."
"Congratulations," said Caramon. They ate the rest of the meal in relative silence, and when they pushed the bowls aside and began to eat the fruit, Raistlin spoke for the first time since the meal began.
"Tell me, Mora," he said, "How old were you when your father died? I'm curious to know why you didn't enroll into a school of magic."
Caramon almost choked on the apple. "Raist," he said softly, "I don't think-"
"That is the problem, isn't it my brother?" he said icily. "You should not think so much, for your mind hasn't the capacity to process such thoughts." Looking back to Mora, "Please answer the question, I am would like to know."
Mora's lips were touched with a faint smile, finding that Raistlin's words mirrored the ones she herself had thought earlier, when she had been alone with Caramon in the kitchen. Try as she may, she couldn't get Caramon to speak of anything intellectually fascinating, and preferred Raistlin's prying and sharp style of speaking to his brother's. At least conversations with Raistlin held her attention.
"It's all right, Caramon," she said. " My father died when I was about eight. I didn't enroll into a mage school because I don't have much talent for the art. I do have some; my father was pretty strong; but not enough for me to spend my life studying. Instead, I inherited my mother's gift for being good at sewing."
Some time later, Mora sighed and stood up. "I hate to break up this little engagement, but it's late."
"Please, let me walk you home," said Caramon, practically begging.
"No, that's not necessary," Mora said forcefully. She grabbed her basket, leaving the leftovers for them.
"I'll see you around town, Caramon, Raistlin," nodding to each in turn. She left the house, and returned home.
Once gone, Caramon told Raistlin how wonderful Mora was, and wanted to talk about it further, but Raistlin coldly told him that he was going to bed, because he had school in the morning.
Raistlin hurried down the well-worn road that lead to the outskirts of Solace. Spring was more than half over, and there was a place he knew of that had a plant, good for someone who was sick or just getting over a sickness. He walked a short distance further, looking for the small tree, with the apple-like fruit growing on the brown flowers, once a whitish-pink. He soon reached his destination, and pulled some of the fruits from the branches to bring home to dry. Raistlin spun around rapidly when he heard a twig snap behind him.
"Who's there?" he called crossly, thinking that perhaps Tasslehoff had followed him from town.
"It's just me," said a feminine voice, obviously not the kender. From behind a tangle of leaves came Mora. Her curly hair tied back in a loose braid, and she wore a large apron. She smiled when she saw him. "My aunt sent me to get some of the fruits from the shadbush. I didn't know you would be here, although I have to say it's a nice surprise." She rolled up her sleeves and began putting the fruit into the pouch she made with her apron.
Raistlin watched her out of the corner of his eye, flushing slightly from her words, as he too gathered the useful fruit. After getting enough to last the year, Raistlin turned to leave, but stopped. He looked at Mora, whose apron barely contained any, and placing his bundle filled with the fruit down, he approached her. "Do you, I mean, would you like my, uh, help?" he asked awkwardly, not used to this type of thing.
"Sure, since you're offering." The two soon had gotten enough for her, and they began their trip back to Solace, pausing at Crystalmir Lake to rest for a few moments.
Mora sighed and looked directly at Raistlin. "Something has been bothering you, concerning me, since that night I came to your home to cook. You're wondering why I played the happy little woman, fixing your brother a fine meal, aren't you?"
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
"You gave me this funny look when we were cooking. I did it because I don't like to be in dept to anyone, you included. I feel I repaid my dept to you by answering your questions at my aunt's house, because you are one of the only people who I told. I repaid the dept to the kender by giving him some of my time, and now the dept to your brother, through the meal. To Mansly, the farmer who loaned you the horses, I've promised a beautiful shirt that I will be sewing." She sighed again. "Maybe this sounds as if I am ungrateful or take the help everyone gave me for granted, my aunt thinks so, but that's why all the kind acts." She stopped, waiting for Raistlin to respond.
"So why are you sitting here with me now and telling me this? And, if you felt you had already repaid your dept to me, why did you cook for me as well?" he asked cautiously.
Mora leaned back against the base of the tree they were sitting at. "I'm trying to start a friendship. What do you say?" she asked, gazing at him out of the corner of her eye.
Raistlin leaned back against the tree as well. A smile, one not filled with bitterness or scorn, faintly touched his lips, more than enough of an answer for Mora.
After the greetings had concluded, they took their seats and sipped their tea. Mora shifted uncomfortably under Raistlin's gaze, knowing that he probably had many questions to which he deserved answers, but she wasn't sure what she was going to tell him. Mora had never told anyone of her ring, not even her mother, and she wasn't about to start now.
"Let me just begin by saying that I am in your dept, Raistlin," said Mora, breaking the silence that had settled over the group. "I know that if someone had dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night, I would be pretty angry. But you came to the aid of Aunt Meggin and myself anyway. Please, there must be some way for me to repay you."
Raistlin folded his hands, "As I told Mistress Meggin, the knowledge I gained from this experience is payment enough," he paused, regarding Mora intently. "Of course, there is something you could do."
"Please, tell me," she said with a smile.
"After seeing your wound and hearing about the wounds on your attackers, I am wondering what happened out there. Finding the answers to this would be the best way to repay me," Raistlin said, inclining his head slightly, watching the quick, almost undetectable flicker of emotion cross Mora's face. It wasn't pain or horror at the recollection of the incident. 'What is she hiding?' Raistlin wondered as the smile rapidly returned to her face.
"That's a good request, Raistlin," said Mistress Meggin. "Since I found you lying on the ground, bleeding, I've been wanting to ask you the same question." she said to Mora.
"Perhaps I should start from the beginning," said Mora. "I was dressed as a boy for protection; it truly isn't safe for a girl to be traveling alone or with a man she doesn't know." Mora paused, drinking some of her tea. "I started my trip from Haven, but you already know that. On the road, all went well until the last night we would be camping outside of a town. Just as we were about to make camp, those men attacked us. They came to the back of the cart where I was hiding and pulled me out. The one who grabbed me spun me around and my hood fell off, revealing that I was really a girl. From there, it all got worse. One of the men had a crossbow, which he used to kill the man I was traveling with. I got away and began to run, but I turned around when I heard one of the men chanting. As my aunt probably told you, my father was a white robed mage, so I know spell casting when I hear it. I reached into my tunic, and threw my dagger at the one speaking. It hit him just as he was about to cast the spell, which caused it to go awry. The bolts of lightening that had been intended for me, instead struck his companions. I guess as the one with the crossbow fell, his weapon went off and shot me threw the side. That's all I remember." she looked to Raistlin, who slowly nodded his head once.
"Well, you're lucky to be alive," said Mistress Meggin.
"Moving on to more pleasant things...Raistlin, I see that you yourself are an aspiring magus. Tell me, where do you study?" Mora asked, noticing the robes he wore.
"I study in the school of magic, run by Master Theobald."
"Oh. So how long have you been studying there?" asked Mora, curious about the man who had saved her life.
"Since I was a very young child. It's the only place I have ever studied," Raistlin said with a hint of bitterness in his voice. Raistlin said as he rose to his feet, "Thank you for your hospitality, Mistress Meggin, but I must leave."
"Of course, Raistlin. Farwell." Mistress Meggin said as she rose to take the cups and uneaten sweetbread to the kitchen.
"I'll see Raistlin to the door, Aunt Meggin," said Mora, following him.
Once the two reached the door, Mora asked Raistlin another question about his studies in magic, the one she had been going to ask before he had risen to leave.
"And this upsets you, not having ever studied anywhere else? Is Master Theobald not measuring up to your expectations?"
"I have found that in life, many things don't measure up to my expectations," said Raistlin, with a wry smile.
"Would you care to elaborate on that?" she asked returning the wry smile with an arched eyebrow.
"Take for example, your story," he began, "Although your aunt may have believed it, I certainly did not. If the man with a crossbow had his weapon loaded, the mage would have had no reason to cast a spell. The bandits wouldn't have left you standing unguarded, just because there is the chance that you could escape and warn the people of Solace about them."
Raistlin paused before making one last point. "And I find it hard to believe that when the spell was cast, it hit every man, but not you. But thank you for the amusing story, it was worth the visit."
Mora's smile never faded, "Goodnight, Raistlin. I look forward to our next meeting."
Raistlin left Mistress Meggin's house, not quite sure of what to make of her very beautiful niece.
"It's okay, boy. I'm just going to walk over this way and to the door..." It was two weeks later, and Tasslehoff was trying as best as he could to get around the old, gray wolf whose growling jaws prevented his passage to Mistress Meggin's house. "Look over here," he said waving part of a sandwich he had pulled from one of his pouches. "If you let me by, I'll give you this yummy food..." The wolf seemed to grow angrier at this and began to approach Tasslehoff. "Uh, never mind," he said throwing the sandwich at the animal. Tasslehoff ran toward the door and had almost reached it when he was barreled down and was face to face with those o-so-sharp teeth.
Suddenly the heavy body was removed from Tasslehoff and he was looking straight into the face of an angry Mistress Meggin.
"What are you doing here, kender?" she asked coldly.
"Hello, Mistress Meggin," he began as he stood up, brushing off the seat of his pants. "I'm Tasslehoff Burrfoot. I'm here to see Mora."
"No, your not. Go home." Mistress Meggin started to close her door and Tasslehoff quickly put his hoopak through the opening. "Move your stick."
"Oh, look at that." He looked at Mistress Meggin, hoping that the face he gave her was one that showed what a great person he was. He guessed it didn't work when Mistress Meggin shoved the door harder, knocking the hoopak out of the way, and Tasslehoff once again went flying to the ground.
"Who was that?" asked Mora, looking up from the dried herbs she was putting in jars.
"A kender." said Mistress Meggin.
"What did he want?"
"To see you." Mistress Meggin went to the sink, rinsing off herbs that she would be drying later.
"Me?" asked Mora. "Why?"
"Oh, he was the one sent to bring the Majere twins to you. I guess that he was curious to see what you were like."
"Well, in that case," Mora brushed off her dress as she stood up. "I will talk to him a bit, I owe that much to him."
"I hope you know what you are doing. Kender are like stray dogs; once you pay attention to them, they never leave you alone."
"I'll be back before dark. I might stop by the clothier's store, to see if he'll hire me." Mora said, not paying any heed to her warning. Kissing her aunt goodbye, she flew out the door, before Mistress Meggin could object.
Mora rushed to catch up with the kender who had decided to leave when the wolf tried to bite him. "Kender!" she shouted. "Wait up!"
Tasslehoff turned around and looked at Mora, his eyes as wide as milk saucers. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I'm Mora Taeon. I heard you were looking for me."
"Wow, you are really pretty! You looked really bad when I first saw you, you were all covered in dirt and stuff. I'm Tasslehoff Burrfoot. Did you know I helped save you?"
"So I've heard. Well met, Tasslehoff. Let's walk for a while," Mora said, falling into step with the kender.
"You can call me Tas. You should come back with me to my home and meet Flint. He was really worried about you when he heard you were hurt and he tried to help, but your aunt didn't let him."
"Then take me to your home," Mora said with a smile. "By the way, who's Flint?"
On the walk to the home of Flint Fireforge and Tasslehoff Burrfoot, the odd pair were met with many stares, which were all directed at Mora. No one said anything to them though, except for a few of the teenage boys who introduced themselves and were politely told, by Mora, her name. The duo finally reached the house, which, to Mora's surprise, was on ground level and made of stone.
"Come out back," said Tas, taking Mora's hand and leading her to the back of the house. There, Mora was greeted by the clashing of blades. Two young men were practicing their sword fighting with a dwarf coaching them on. "Flint, Flint!" yelled Tasslehoff. "Look who came to visit! It's Mora, Mistress Meggin's niece!"
"Who?" asked Flint as the kender hopped up and down.
Mora extended her hand, "Mora Taeon, the niece of Mistress Meggin. Tas has informed me that you were one of the people from this town who helped out in cleaning up the cart and bodies."
"Yes, lass, I was," said Flint, gripping her hand. "So what did happen out there?"
Before Mora could answer, the swordfighters stopped and came over to offer their greetings. One walked over dignified, if not rigidly, and the other came over, almost gawking at her. "I am Mora Taeon. And you are?" she asked the young men.
"Sturm Brightblade, miss," said the first man, bowing low and bringing her hand to his lips.
"Caramon Majere," said the other, holding her small hand in his large one. "I carried you to your aunt's house." He smiled broadly and didn't let go of her hand right away, causing Mora to politely, yet firmly, extract her hand.
"Thank you, Caramon," said Mora. "You're Raistlin's brother, correct?" she asked doubtfully, for although there was a resemblance between the two, Caramon was much taller and wider than the slim Raistlin, and his features weren't as fine boned as Raistlin's.
"Yup, he's my twin." said Caramon.
"I'm sorry to say that I don't have anything to give you to show my gratitude for your help, but I can offer to cook us a meal at your home sometime, if you like."
"Sure, your aunt said you would do something like this," said the grinning Caramon.
"Enough already," said Flint. "Back to practicing."
Mora sat and watched as Caramon and Sturm practiced some more. Tas chattered casually with her, and after about an hour, the training for the day ended. Mora stood up and saying her goodbyes, she began to walk away.
"Mora!" called Caramon. She turned around.
"Yes?"
"May I walk you home?" he asked.
"You could, but I'm not going home just yet. I'm going to the clothier's shop to see if I can get work there. You could lead there, since I don't know where it is."
Caramon readily agreed and they soon reached their destination. Mora entered the shop to find a short, balding man with thick spectacles perched on his nose, talking to a woman who was interested in a dress.
"Can I help you?" he asked when the other woman had finally left.
Caramon stood outside the shop, waiting for Mora to come out, although she had told him not to wait. After about fifteen minutes, Mora exited with a happy face.
"Caramon, you're still here? I told you that you didn't have to stand here for me."
"That's okay," he said as they started walking. "I don't mind." Slyly, or so Caramon thought, he placed his arm over her shoulders. Mora stiffened and calmly pushed him off. Caramon chuckled and they continued the walk to Mora and Mistress Meggin's home.
"Thank you for accompanying me, Caramon." Mora said as she walked to the door, alone, since the wolf wasn't allowing Caramon to come up any further. "How does tomorrow sound for that meal? Say, an hour after sundown?"
"Sounds great," he replied.
"Hey Raist," said Caramon upon arriving home. Raistlin was preparing the twins' evening meal. "You'd never guess where I've been."
"Your right, I probably wouldn't," said Raistlin dryly.
"I've been out with Mora, Mistress Meggin's niece. You didn't say how pretty she was, after visiting her."
Raistlin didn't say anything.
"Anyway, she came by Flint's house with Tas and she met Sturm and me. When she left, I offered to walk with her. First, we went to the clothing shop, you know, the one run by Miranda's father. She wanted to get a job there, and she did, I guess, because when she came out she was real happy. Then I walked her home and to repay me for helping her, she's coming over here tomorrow night to cook a meal."
"It figures the way she'll repay you is through your stomach, Caramon," Raistlin said.
Caramon looked to Raistlin, hungrily eating the food that had just been laid out. "What makes you say that?" he asked.
"Caramon, shut up." Raistlin ate his meal in silence, disliking the feeling he got when he thought about Mora and Caramon together, and hating himself for having these feelings.
The next day passed quickly, and night soon fell. Caramon sat anxiously at the table, waiting for Mora to show up. Raistlin sneered at the thought of Mora cooking for Caramon, believing he knew why she would do something like this for him, yet for Raistlin she had answered but few questions. Returning to the kitchen, he found Caramon pacing. "Stop that and sit down, Caramon," Raistlin said sharply. "You're giving me a headache."
"Sorry, Raist," said Caramon sheepishly sitting back down. "Do you think she'll be here soon?" he asked.
"I don't know, Caramon," he said. "It was a bad idea in the first place to agree to let her come here."
"Don't say that, Raist. She's really pretty and she's real nice. Even Miranda isn't like her, although I do love her."
"I'm sure you do," Raistlin said sarcastically, deciding to go to his room and study his spells.
Before Caramon could reply, there was a quiet knocking. Caramon jumped up, almost overturning the table in the process, and opened the door.
"Hello, Caramon," greeted Mora, carrying a large basket. She entered the house and emptied out the basket. Inside was a large piece of meat, freshly cut, two loaves of bread, some potatoes, carrots, cheese, and fresh fruit. Also inside was a jug of cider and a bag of herbs, for flavoring the food. Caramon pointed out the cooking pots and Mora began to cut up the meat.
"Where's Raistlin?" she asked after a few minutes of talking with Caramon.
"I think he's in his room, studying spells or something," Caramon replied.
"Oh," she said. "It's just that I figured he'd be out here with us; I brought enough food for at least three people."
"I'll go get him," Caramon said. Rushing to the room in which Raistlin sat. "Hey, Raist, aren't you coming out?"
Raistlin looked up from the spell he had been memorizing. "Why?"
"Mora wants you to, she brought enough food for you cause she thought you'd like to eat with us."
"Maybe later," Raistlin said, going back to the book. Caramon left and soon after, Raistlin could here the two in the kitchen, laughing at something Caramon had said. 'Always the one to be charming with girls,' he thought bitterly about his brother. He sighed and went back to his book even though he could no longer study it, being too intent on trying to eavesdrop on Caramon and Mora. Raistlin slammed the book closed in frustration and got up to join them in the kitchen. He slid quietly into a seat and at first they didn't know he was there; they were too caught up in dicing of potatoes, which Caramon was failing miserably at.
"I guess I'm not a chef. I wish Raistlin were here, he'd be more of a help then I am, he cooks most of the meals." Caramon put the massacred potato back on the pile and went to sit down. "Raist!" he said happily. "You decided to come out. That's great, cause now you can help Mora."
"I don't think that she needs my help-" Raistlin began, but stopped when his eyes met Mora's.
"Actually, I could use an extra pair of hands, that is, if you don't mind." she said.
Raistlin shrugged his shoulders and went to the sink to help. He picked up Caramon's discarded knife and started cutting up potatoes, putting the pieces into the bowl that also contained the meat.
"Anyway, I still think..." said Caramon; going back to the conversation he'd been having with Mora. Raistlin paid no attention, and was silently berating at himself for having come out, while Mora responded to Caramon half-heartedly, to interested at sneaking sidelong glances at Raistlin, wondering why he seemed to be angry.
Soon all the vegetables were cut and placed into a pot along with the meat. The twins sat at the table, sipping on their cider, while Mora stood by the stove, occasionally stirring the food and cutting up the cheese. Testing the meat and finding it done, she brought the pot, cheese, and bread to the table and they ate their meal.
"So, Mora," Caramon said between bites, "Did you get that job at the clothier's shop? You never did tell me."
"Yes, I did. Mr. Adius, the owner, and I talked for a while. He realized that I had experience as a seamstress, and he hired me on the spot. I start work in two days."
"Congratulations," said Caramon. They ate the rest of the meal in relative silence, and when they pushed the bowls aside and began to eat the fruit, Raistlin spoke for the first time since the meal began.
"Tell me, Mora," he said, "How old were you when your father died? I'm curious to know why you didn't enroll into a school of magic."
Caramon almost choked on the apple. "Raist," he said softly, "I don't think-"
"That is the problem, isn't it my brother?" he said icily. "You should not think so much, for your mind hasn't the capacity to process such thoughts." Looking back to Mora, "Please answer the question, I am would like to know."
Mora's lips were touched with a faint smile, finding that Raistlin's words mirrored the ones she herself had thought earlier, when she had been alone with Caramon in the kitchen. Try as she may, she couldn't get Caramon to speak of anything intellectually fascinating, and preferred Raistlin's prying and sharp style of speaking to his brother's. At least conversations with Raistlin held her attention.
"It's all right, Caramon," she said. " My father died when I was about eight. I didn't enroll into a mage school because I don't have much talent for the art. I do have some; my father was pretty strong; but not enough for me to spend my life studying. Instead, I inherited my mother's gift for being good at sewing."
Some time later, Mora sighed and stood up. "I hate to break up this little engagement, but it's late."
"Please, let me walk you home," said Caramon, practically begging.
"No, that's not necessary," Mora said forcefully. She grabbed her basket, leaving the leftovers for them.
"I'll see you around town, Caramon, Raistlin," nodding to each in turn. She left the house, and returned home.
Once gone, Caramon told Raistlin how wonderful Mora was, and wanted to talk about it further, but Raistlin coldly told him that he was going to bed, because he had school in the morning.
Raistlin hurried down the well-worn road that lead to the outskirts of Solace. Spring was more than half over, and there was a place he knew of that had a plant, good for someone who was sick or just getting over a sickness. He walked a short distance further, looking for the small tree, with the apple-like fruit growing on the brown flowers, once a whitish-pink. He soon reached his destination, and pulled some of the fruits from the branches to bring home to dry. Raistlin spun around rapidly when he heard a twig snap behind him.
"Who's there?" he called crossly, thinking that perhaps Tasslehoff had followed him from town.
"It's just me," said a feminine voice, obviously not the kender. From behind a tangle of leaves came Mora. Her curly hair tied back in a loose braid, and she wore a large apron. She smiled when she saw him. "My aunt sent me to get some of the fruits from the shadbush. I didn't know you would be here, although I have to say it's a nice surprise." She rolled up her sleeves and began putting the fruit into the pouch she made with her apron.
Raistlin watched her out of the corner of his eye, flushing slightly from her words, as he too gathered the useful fruit. After getting enough to last the year, Raistlin turned to leave, but stopped. He looked at Mora, whose apron barely contained any, and placing his bundle filled with the fruit down, he approached her. "Do you, I mean, would you like my, uh, help?" he asked awkwardly, not used to this type of thing.
"Sure, since you're offering." The two soon had gotten enough for her, and they began their trip back to Solace, pausing at Crystalmir Lake to rest for a few moments.
Mora sighed and looked directly at Raistlin. "Something has been bothering you, concerning me, since that night I came to your home to cook. You're wondering why I played the happy little woman, fixing your brother a fine meal, aren't you?"
"What makes you say that?" he asked.
"You gave me this funny look when we were cooking. I did it because I don't like to be in dept to anyone, you included. I feel I repaid my dept to you by answering your questions at my aunt's house, because you are one of the only people who I told. I repaid the dept to the kender by giving him some of my time, and now the dept to your brother, through the meal. To Mansly, the farmer who loaned you the horses, I've promised a beautiful shirt that I will be sewing." She sighed again. "Maybe this sounds as if I am ungrateful or take the help everyone gave me for granted, my aunt thinks so, but that's why all the kind acts." She stopped, waiting for Raistlin to respond.
"So why are you sitting here with me now and telling me this? And, if you felt you had already repaid your dept to me, why did you cook for me as well?" he asked cautiously.
Mora leaned back against the base of the tree they were sitting at. "I'm trying to start a friendship. What do you say?" she asked, gazing at him out of the corner of her eye.
Raistlin leaned back against the tree as well. A smile, one not filled with bitterness or scorn, faintly touched his lips, more than enough of an answer for Mora.
