“‘My bracelet!’ cried I in a rush.
He tossed it in the air,
And in the sun it glittered and spun—
Then caught I it with care.
“Oh lovely metalwork! No tongue
Its beauty could declare.
A spring of rage for Kender came:
I gave the thief a stare.
No pity had I for the thief,
And so I gave a stare.
“He gave me, then, a roguish wink
And, by the holy rood,
With merry smile and twinkling eye
He still before me stood!
“Suspicious of the kender’s acts,
I asked, ‘Why do you stand
So near to one you’ve stolen from?
Yes, with your own small hand?’
“And then, a most strange happening:
The kender gave a frown.
A single tear dropped from his eye,
He laid his hoopak down.
“‘But sir,’ the fiend entreated me,
‘You have mistaken me.
I’m surely not a thief, for I
An honest kender be!
“‘Just think what could have happened
With your thing just lying there?
If not for me and my thoughtfulness
A thief might steal your wares!
“‘But no matter,’ spake the horrid thing.
‘For now good friends are we!’
And, horror! This small terror
With arms wide skipped straight at me!
“‘Unhand me, foolish kender!
And give me back my knife!
I’m not your friend, and you’d best leave
Before I end your life!’
“The kender winked; he winked and smiled;
He said, ‘I take my leave.
And with my brand-new coinpouch here,
I surely shall not grieve!’
“The kender thief, he waved his hand;
It was a heavenly sight
To see the kender walk away
Into the dimming light.
The best view of a kender
Is retreating in dim light.
“’Twas only when he’d gone, and I
Had thrown a rope to join
The edges of the cliffs, I groaned:
He’d taken all my coin!
“But still, my wealth was worth the hell
That I’d been going through
To see that kender take his leave
As I so wished he’d do!
“Oh Raistlin, this soul hath been
Alone on a wide, wide plain:
So lonely that the gods themselves
Seemed almost split in twain.
“And yet, I’d rather not a soul
Would ever comfort me
Than spend just one more minute
In such dreadful company!
“Farewell, farewell, but this I tell
To thee, my Raistlin:
The worst of luck to he who lets
A kender wander in!”
The dwarf, whose eyes are old and weak,
Whose beard is still his pride,
Has left the school, and Raistlin
All alone remains inside.
And Raistlin smiles an ice-cold smile,
Because he knows ’tis true:
If it were he and need would be,
He'd shoot that kender too!
YOU ARE READING
The Rhyme of the Ancient Dwarf (A Dragonlance Story)
FanfictionIt is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? We've all read Samuel Coleridge's classic poem, The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. But what if the mariner was really...
