Free Dragonlance 04 - Time of the Twins by Margaret Weis

the dwarves stay under the bed. He didn't care.

    There was the clink of crockery in. the other room. Tika! Hurriedly, Caramon took another sip, then closed the flask and tucked it back into the boot again. Shutting the lid very, very quietly, he straightened up, ran a hand through his tangled hair, and started to go out into the main living area. Then he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror as he passed.

    "Change my shirt," he muttered thickly.

    After much pulling and tugging, he dragged off the filthy shirt he was wearing and tossed it in a corner. Perhaps he should wash? Bah! What was he—a sissy? So he smelled—it was a manly smell. Plenty of women liked it, found it attractive—found him attractive! Never complained or nagged, not like Tika. Why couldn't she take him as he was? Struggling into a clean shirt he found at the foot of the bed, Caramon felt very sorry for himself. No one understood him . . . life was hard . . . he was going through a bad time just now . . . but that would change . . . just wait . . . someday—tomorrow maybe . . ..

    Lurching out of the bedroom, trying to appear nonchalant, Caramon walked unsteadily across the neat, clean living room and collapsed into a chair at the eating table. The chair creaked beneath his great weight. Tika turned around.

    Catching her glance, Caramon sighed. Tika was mad— again. He tried grinning at her, but it was a sickly grin and didn't help. Her red curls bouncing in anger, she whirled around and disappeared through a door into the kitchen. Caramon winced as he heard heavy iron pots bang. The sound brought the dwarves and their hammers back. Within a few moments, Tika returned, carrying a huge dish of sizzling bacon, fried maize cakes, and eggs. She slammed the plate down in front of him with such force the cakes leaped three inches into the air.

    Caramon winced again. He wondered briefly about eating— considering the queasy state of his stomach—then grouchily reminded his stomach who was boss. He was starved, he couldn't remember when he'd eaten last. Tika flounced down in a chair next to him. Glancing up, he saw her green eyes blazing. Her freckles stood out clearly against her skin—a certain sign of fury.

    "All right," Caramon growled, shoveling food into his mouth. "What'd I do now?"

    "You don't remember." It was a statement.

    Caramon cast about hastily in the foggy regions of his mind. Something stirred vaguely. He was supposed to have been somewhere last night. He'd stayed home all day, getting ready. He'd promised Tika . . . but he'd grown thirsty. His flask was empty. He'd just go down to the Trough for a quick nip, then to . . . where . . . why . . .

    "I had business to attend to," Caramon said, avoiding Tika's gaze.

    "Yes, we saw your business," Tika snapped bitterly. "The business that made you pass out right at Tanis's feet!"

    "Tanis!" Caramon dropped his fork. "Tanis . . . last night . . ." With a heartsick moan, the big man let his aching head sink into his hands.

    "You made quite a spectacle of yourself," Tika continued, her voice choked. "In front of the entire town, plus half the elves in Krynn. Not to mention our old friends." She was weeping quietly now. "Our best friends . . .."

    Caramon moaned again. Now he was crying, too. "Why? Why?" he blubbered. "Tanis, of all of them . . ." His selfrecriminations were interrupted by a banging on the front door.

    "Now what?" Tika muttered, rising and wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her blouse. "Maybe it's Tanis, after all." Caramon lifted his head. "Try at least to look like the man you once were," Tika said under her breath as she hurried to the door.

    Throwing the bolt, she unlatched it. "Otik?" she said in astonishment. "What are—Whose foods?"

    The rotund, elderly innkeeper stood in the doorway, a plate of steaming food in his hand. He peered past Tika.

    "Isn't she here?" he asked, startled.

    "Isn't who here?" Tika replied, confused. "There's no one here."

    "Oh,