Daughter of the Drow - Elaine Cunningham [147]
Then, to his utter astonishment, Fyodor noted that his companion's eyes burned not with rage, but with excitement.
"Again!" she gasped out, and gave him a little shake. "Let's do that again!"
With a groan, Fyodor fell back on the bank. He eyed the irrepressible drow, not sure whether to embrace her or give over to helpless laughter. So he did both.
This time, Liriel's laughter joined his.
Chapter 24
PROMENADE
They did not see Nisstyre or his hunters again for the duration of the trip. That was just as well, for the rigors of the road were quite sufficient for Liriel's taste.
Fyodor spent most of the first day tracking down their horses, and although Liriel was glad for the speed this granted them, she almost wished the wretched beasts had made good their escape. In the Underdark, she was considered an expert rider, but a horse's gait was vastly different from the smooth, darting movements of a lizard mount. At the end of the first day's ride, Liriel ached in muscles she had never before acknowledged. But as the days passed, her body became hardened to the jarring trot, just as her eyes adjusted to the bright light.
The long westward ride brought other changes to the drow, as well. Liriel had never been one to sit and think; now she had little choice. Yet try as she might, she could find no words for the night she and Fyodor had shared in the moonьt clearing. Finally she asked him, bluntly, what the human customs were in such matters.
The question did not seem to surprise him, but he was long in answering. "These things are not easily explained. Ask ten men what it means to spend a night with a maid, and you will likely get ten different answers."
"Thanks, I'll take your word on that," she said with a shudder. Once, in her opinion, offered more confusion than she could handle.
Fyodor responded with a deep, wry chuckle. "Please, little raven! A man has his pride."
The drow frowned. "I didn't mean-"
He waved her into silence. "You need not explain. I think we both were surprised by what we found together. There is a bond between us, for good or ill, and so it will remain. Understand that I've never taken such things lightly, but I think it best to agree that we came together as friends, and let the matter end."
Liriel thought that over. It seemed reasonable, and it felt right. Still… "I've never shared passion with a friend before," she mused.
He lifted one brow. "With whom, then? Your enemies?"
A short, startled burst of laughter escaped the drow. "Yes, that pretty much sums it up."
"Ah." Fyodor nodded solemnly, but his eyes twinkled. "This explains much."
Liriel acknowledged his teasing with a wry smile and was more than content to let the matter rest. Talking about it cleared the air between them and that, for now, was enough. The challenges ahead were daunting, and she could not afford to be distracted by things she could not hope to understand. The insights she had gained were disturbing enough.
For Liriel had come to accept the possibility she might never regain her drow powers. Every night, when they stopped to rest the horses, she coaxed Fyodor to practice swordcraft with her. Nisstyre had left her those weapons that bore no magic-a few knives, the long dagger she'd taken from the naga-and she was determined to wield them as best she could. Day by day, her strength and skill improved, and the desultory swordplay of a spoiled princess began to harden into a drow's fierce art. Liriel planned to make her way as a wizard; the naga's treasure would purchase spell components and spellbooks in the markets of Skullport. In time, she might regain a level of power similar to the magic she'd once wielded. Until then, she had to survive.
But not until they neared Waterdeep did Liriel realize she had not lost every drow gift she possessed. The art of intrigue, once learned, was not soon forgotten.
She and Fyodor approached the city from the north, riding cautiously through verdant farmlands, skirting the well-traveled roads. At last they caught sight of high towers rising up over the