was my father's uncle's wife's second cousin once removed." "Brother!" cried Eider, spreading his arms. "Brother!"

Tasslehoff rushed into them.

This also continued down the line of kender, ending with the determination that Tasslehoff was closely related to

every single one of the fifteen, none of whom he had ever seen before in his life.

After this came the third phase. Tasslehoff inquired politely if any of his fellows had come across any interesting or

unusual objects on his or her journeys. The other kender just as politely insisted that Tasslehoff should be the one to

show off his acquisitions, with the result that all the kender plunked themselves down in the middle of the road.

Emptying their pouches, they began to rummage through each other's belongings while traffic backed up behind

them.

"Drive on, Tanis!" Flint urged in a hoarse whisper. "Faster! Faster! Maybe we'll lose him."

Well knowing that Tas could be involved with this entertaining project for a day at least, Tanis did as the dwarf

recommended, though not with any hope of losing the kender no matter how fast they traveled.

That night as they were making camp Tasslehoff turned up, tired and hungry, not even wearing the same clothes

anymore, but completely happy.

"Did you miss me, Flint?" he asked, plopping down beside the dwarf.

Ignoring Flint's resounding "No!" Tas proceeded to show the companions his newfound treasures. "Look, Flint. I

have a whole lot of new maps. Truly fine maps. I've never seen maps nearly as good as these. My cousin says they

came all the way from Istar, which isn't there anymore. It was smashed flat in the Cataclysm. These maps have little

mountains drawn on them and little roads, and here's a tiny little lake. And they have the names all written in. I've

never heard of any of these places, and I don't know where they are, but if I ever want to go there, I've got this map to

show me what's there when I get there."

"If you don't know where something is, what good is the map, you doorknob?" Flint demanded.

Tas thought this over, then pointed out the flaw in the

dwarf's logic. "Well, I can't get there without it, now, can I?" "But you just said you didn't know where it was, so that

means you can't get there with it!" Flint fumed.

"Ah, but if I ever do get there, I'll know where I am!"

Tasslehoff stated triumphantly, at which point Tanis changed the subject before the dwarf, now extremely red in the

face, burst some important blood vessel.

The next day, around midday, they arrived at the gates of the Lordcity of Haven.

The residents of Haven were the ones who termed Haven, grandiosely, a Lordcity. In their minds, Haven rivaled

the fabled northern metropolis of Palanthas. None of the inhabitants of Haven had ever traveled to Palanthas, which

might account for this misnomer. Haven was, in reality, nothing grander than a large farming community located on

extremely fertile land, whose rich soil was nourished on a semiyearly basis by the flooding of the White -rage river.

In these days of relative peace among the diverse races inhabiting Abanasinia, Haven's crops helped feed both the

dwarves of Thorbardin and the humans of Pax Tharkas. The elves of Qualinesti did not relish human-grown food, but

they had discovered that the vineyards on the sunny slopes of the Kharolis Mountains produced grapes of

remarkable sweetness. These grapes were imported to Qualinesti to make wine that was famous throughout Ansalon.

Haven hemp was much prized by the Plainspeople, who twisted it into strong, sturdy rope. Haven wood was used by

the inhabitants of Solace to build their houses and businesses.

The Harvest Home Festival was therefore not only a celebration of another excellent year in the fields, but it was

also a celebration of Haven itself, a tribute to its agrarian prosperity.

A wooden stockade surrounded the city, intended to keep out marauding bands of wolves more than armies.

Haven had never been attacked and had no expectations of being attacked. This was the Age of Peace, after all. The

gates of the wooden stockade were closed only at night, stood wide open during the day. Those manning the gates

acted more as greeters than guards, exchanging friendly salutations with visitorsthey knew from years past and

giving a hearty welcome to newcomers.

Flint and Tanis were well known and well liked. The sergeant-at-arms walked over to personally shake hands with

the dwarf and the half-elf and to stare admiringly at Kitiara. The sergeant said they had missed Flint's customary

visit, asked where they had been all summer. He listened with deep com-

miseration to Flint's tale of woe and assured the dwarf that his usual booth on the fairgrounds was waiting for