Raistlin follows her instructions and skids to a stop. His arms flail slightly but he doesn't fall: planting his staff in the ground at an opportune moment almost makes it look respectable.

The sense of expectation makes him pause. He understands what she wants, of course. Should he comply? It would cost him nothing, with this new strength; as the price for his life, this was fairly low. A bargain, in fact.

The cook's noticed him. She turns her eyes on him, firelight dancing across her face.

"Help! Please!" There are tears running down her face. The child strapped to her is wailing, piercing even the screams.

There's a peg nearby with a rope attached. He follows it up, find where it attaches - ah. The canvas had gotten twisted around the central pole. If he cuts there, and frees it, then they can pull her out.

:You will find this undignified: he warns Need, before hacking at it with her like she's a very unwieldy cleaver.