conversations, conversations that would

end abruptly upon his arrival.

He tried to eavesdrop, hoping to hear what the two were saying. The Widow Judith had excellent hearing, however,

and he was usually discovered. One day, however, the two women happened to be sitting at the kitchen table

beneath a window where several pies were cooling. Walking up on them from outside, his footsteps lost among the

rustling of the leaves of the vallenwood tree, Raistlin heard their voices. He halted in the shadows.

"The High Priest is not pleased with you, Rosamun Majere. I have had a letter from him this day. He wonders why

you have not brought your husband and children into the arms of Belzor."

Rosamun's response was meek and defensive. She had tried. She had spoken to Gilon of Belzor several times, but

her husband had only laughed at her. He did not need to have faith in any god. He had faith in himself and his good

right arm and that was that. Caramon said he was quite willing to attend the meetings of the Belzorites, especially if

they served food. As for Raistlin ... Rosamun's voice trailed off.

As for Raistlin, he was eager to hear more, but at that moment the Widow Judith rose to see to the pies and saw

him standing at the corner of the house. He and Judith looked intently at each other. Neither gave anything away to

the other, however, except a shared enmity. The Widow Judith brought in the pies and closed the shutters. Raistlin

continued on to his garden.

Who in the Abyss is this Belzor, he wondered, and why does he want to embrace us?

"It's some sort of thing of mother's," said Caramon, upon questioning. "You know. One of those woman things.

They all meet together and talk about stuff. What kind of stuff? I don't know. I went once but I fell asleep."

Rosamun never said anything to Raistlin about Belzor, rather to Raistlin's disappointment. He considered bringing

up the matter himself, but he feared this would involve talking to the Widow Judith, and he avoided contact with her

as much as possible. The master was off on his visit to the conclave. School was out for the summer. Raistlin spent

his days planting, cultivating, and adding to his collection of herbs. He was gaining some small reputation among the

neighbors for his knowledge of herbs, sold what he himself did not need and thus was able to contribute to the

family's income. He forgot about Belzor.

The Majere family was happy and prosperous that summer, a summer that would stand out in the twins' minds

as golden, a gold that shone all the more brightly in contrast to the coming darkness.

Raistlin and Caramon were walking along the road leading to Solace, returning from Farmer Sedge's.

Caramon was coming back from work. Raistlin had gone to the farmer's to deliver a bundle of dried lavender.

His clothes still smelled of the fragrant flower. From that time, he would never be able to abide the scent of

lavender.

As they neared Solace, a small boy sighted them, began waving his arms, and broke into a run. He came

pounding along the dusty track to meet them.

"Hullo, young Ned," said Caramon, who knew every child in town. "I can't play Goblin Ball with you right

now, but maybe after dinner we-"

"Hush, Caramon," Raistlin ordered tersely. The child was wide-eyed and solemn as an owlet. "Can't you see?

Something's wrong. What is it? What has happened?"

"There's been an accident," the boy managed to gasp, out of breath. "Your ... your father."

He might have said more, but he'd lost his audience. The twins were racing for home. Raistlin ran as fast as he

could for a short distance, but not even fear and adrenaline could keep his frail body going for long. His strength

gave out and he was forced to slow down. Caramon kept going but, after a few moments, realized he was alone.

He paused to look behind for his brother. Raistlin waved his brother on ahead.

Are you sure? Caramon's worried look asked.

I am sure, Raistlin's look answered.

Caramon nodded once, turned, and kept running. Raistlin made what haste he could, anxiety knotting his

stomach and chilling him, causing him to shiver in the summer sunshine. Raistlin was surprised at his reaction.

He had not supposed he cared this much for his father.

They had driven Gilon in a wagon from Prayer's Eye Peak back to Solace. Raistlin arrived to find his father

still in the wagon with a crowd gathered around. At the news of the accident, almost everyone in town who could

leave his work had come running, come to stare at the unfortunate man in mingled