Free Dragonlance 15 - Dragons Of A Fallen Sun by Margaret Weis Page A

still tended the bar, still told his stories. Laura
    ran the Inn, while Dezra, who had a taste for adventure, traveled
    to markets in Haven and elsewhere, searching out the very best
    in hops for the Inn's ale, honey for the Inn's legendary mead, and
    even hauling dwarf spirits back from Thorbardin. The moment
    Caramon went outdoors he was swarmed over by the children of
    Solace, who one and all called him "Grampy" and who vied for
    rides on his broad shoulders or begged to hear him tell tales of
    long-ago heroes. He was a friend to the refugees who would have
    likely had no housing at all had not Caramon donated the wood
    and supervised the construction. He was currently overseeing a
    project to build permanent dwellings on the outskirts of Solace,
    pushing, cajoling, and browbeating the recalcitrant authorities
    into taking action. Caramon Majere never walked the streets of
    Solace but that he heard his name spoken and blessed.
    Once the refugees were assisted, Caramon traveled about the
    rest of Solace, making certain that everyone was safe, raising
    hearts and spirits oppressed by the terrible night. This done, he
    went to his own breakfast, a breakfast he had come to share, of
    late, with a Knight of Solamnia, a man who reminded Caramon
    of his own two sons who had died in the Chaos War.
    In the days immediately following the Chaos War, the Solam-
    nic Knights had established a garrison in Solace. The garrison had
    been a small one in the early days, intended only to provide
    Knights to stand honor guard for the Tomb of the Last Heroes.
    The garrison had been expanded to counter the threat of the great
    dragons, who were now the acknowledged, if hated, rulers of
    much of Ansalon.
    So long as the humans of Solace and other cities and lands
    under her control continued to pay Beryl tribute, she allowed the
    people to continue on with their lives, allowed them to continue
    to generate more wealth so that they could pay even more tribute.
    Unlike the evil dragons of earlier ages, who had delighted in
    burning and looting and killing, Beryl had discovered that
    burned-out cities did not generate profit. Dead people did not
    pay taxes.
    There were many who wondered why Beryl and her cousins
    with their wondrous and terrible magicks should covet wealth,
    should demand tribute. Beryl and Malys were cunning creatures.
    If they were rapaciously and wantonly cruel, indulging in whole-
    sale slaughter of entire populations, the people of Ansalon would
    rise up out of desperation and march to destroy them. As it was,
    most humans found life under the dragon rule to be relatively
    comfortable. They were content to let well enough alone.
    Bad things happened to some people, people who no doubt
    deserved their fate. If hundreds of kender were killed or driven
    from their homes, if rebellious Qualinesti elves were being tor-
    tured and imprisoned, what did this matter to humans? Beryl and
    Malys had minions and spies in every human town and village,
    placed there to foment discord and hatred and suspicion, as well
    as to make certain that no one was trying to hide so much as a
    cracked copper from the dragons.
    Caramon Majere was one of the few outspoken in his hatred
    of paying tribute to the dragons and actually refused to do so.
    "Not one drop of ale will I give to those fiends," he said heat-
    edly whenever anyone asked, which they rarely did, knowing
    that one of Beryl's spies was probably taking down names.
    He was staunch in his refusal, though much worried by it.
    Solace was a wealthy town, now larger than Haven. The tribute
    demanded from Solace was quite high. Caramon's wife Tika had
    pointed out that their share was being made up by the other citi-
    zens of Solace and that this was putting a hardship on the rest.
    Caramon could see the wisdom of Tika's argument. At length he
    came up with the novel idea of levying a special tax against him-
    self, a tax that only the Inn paid, a tax whose monies were on no
    account to be sent