avoiding ruts and loose stones, providing her rider with a smooth and

comfortable journey. Jenny considered that she'd put up with a great

deal on this trip: bad food, leaky accommodations, dubious stablemates.

An army of stick-wielding boys was simply too much to bear.

By the twitch of her long ears and the baring of her yellow teeth, Jenny

was obviously prepared to strike back by bucking and kicking at the

boys, which would have probably not damaged the boys much but would

certainly dislodge her rider. Antimodes endeavored to control the donkey,

but he was not having any luck. The younger boys, maddened with battle

lust, did not see the man's distress. They swirled about him, lashing out

with their swords, shrieking and crowing in shrill triumph. Antimodes

might well have entered Solace on his posterior, when, out of the dust

and noise, an older boy-perhaps about eight or nine appeared, caught

hold of Jenny's reins, and, with a gentle touch and forceful presence,

calmed the terrified donkey..

"Go around!" the youth ordered, waving his sword, which he had

shifted to his left hand. "Clear out, fellows! You're frightening the

donkey."

The younger boys, ranging in age fromsixupward, goodnaturedly

obeyed the youth and continued on their rowdy way. Their shouts and

laughter echoed among the enormous trunks of the vallenwood trees.

The older boy paused and, with an accent that was definitely not of this

part of Ansalon, spoke his apology as he soothingly stroked the donkey's

soft nose. "Forgive us, good sir. We were caught up in our play and did

not notice your arrival. I trust you have taken no harm."

The young man had straight, thick blond hair, which he wore bowlcropped

around his ears in a style that was popular in Solamnia, but

nowhere else on Krynn. His eyes were gray-blue, and he had a stern and

serious demeanor that be

lied his years, a noble bearing of which he was extremely conscious. His speech was

polished and educated. This was no country bumpkin, no laborer's son.

"Thank you, young sir," Antimodes replied. He carefully took stock of his spell

components, checking to make certain that the buffeting he had taken had not loosened

any of his pouches he wore on his belt. He was about to ask the young man's name, for he

found himself interested in this youth, but, on looking up, he found the young man's blue

eyes fixed upon the pouches. The expression on the youthful face was one of disdain,

disapproval.

"If you are certain you are well, Sir Mage, and have taken no harm from our play, I

will take my leave." The youth made a stiff and rigid bow and, letting loose the donkey's

halter, turned to run after the other boys. "Coming, Kit?" he called brusquely to another

older boy, who had halted to study the stranger with interest.

"In a minute, Sturm," said the other youth, and it was only when she spoke that

Antimodes realized this curly- haired boy, wearing pants and a leather vest, was actually a

girl.

She was an attractive girl-now that he studied her closelyor perhaps he should say

"young lady," for though only in her early teens, her figure was well defined, her

movements were graceful, and her gaze was bold and unwavering. She studied

Antimodes in her turn, regarding him with an intense, thought ful interest that he found

difficult to understand. He was accus tomed to meeting with disdain and dislike, but the

young woman's interest was not idle curiosity. Her gaze held no antipathy. It seemed as if