Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [46]
"Hidden depths?" Starangh smiled. "We all have them, Lord."
* * * * *
Rhauligan blinked in astonishment, shot swift glances across the bedchamber to make sure no stealthy foe was readying a blade to throw or some other mischief, and lowered the woman he'd been hunting gently to the floor. One of the trussed couple rolled over to watch.
Gods above, how could such a slender thing have so much blood to lose? If she was to be taken alive, there was no time left for thinking of such things!
Kneeling over her, he reached past the spreading river of dark, wet stickiness to his left boot, and drew out the steel vial he kept sheathed therein. Its bottom sported a spike for planting it ready in the ground, and he used that spike and his fingers to part her clenched teeth, ramming a knuckle into the corner of her jaw to keep it open as he bit the cork off the vial.
Under his finger, Narnra's eyes flickered. As Rhauligan spat the cork away into the gloom, they flashed open-and she twisted feebly under him, making no sound but a ragged hiss of pain. One hand lifted to strike at his face, wavered far from its target, and fell back as a groan escaped her. The Harper brought the vial down with his thumb over the end, thrust it between her teeth-and held it there, collapsing forward onto her to pin her where she lay.
The usual choking and coughing erupted almost immediately, but Narnra was too weak to do more than quiver and thrash… for the first few moments.
Rhauligan rode her bucking, arching body grimly through the wilder moments that followed, knowing the restless pain that such healing brought-then rolled her over with brutal efficiency and snatched out what he carried in his other boot: lengths of dark, waxed binding cord.
By the time her wrists were bound together and secured to the back of her own belt, Narnra was fully healed, and twisting with a furious energy that brought a wry smile to her captor's lips.
"None of that, lass," he told her merrily, as he spun Narnra around by the elbows and hauled her to her feet. "You're off to the Mage Royal for questioning. You can, of course, thank me for your life later."
Narnra's answer was to turn her head as sharply as she could and spit at him, kicking wildly at where she thought his nearest leg must be. She'd guessed rightly, but Glarasteer Rhauligan had suffered much worse than being kicked and spat on before and merely chuckled and shifted his stance.
"Come on, lass," he growled. "The chase is up, and Caladnei's not so bad as all tha- auuool"
Narnra sat down suddenly, thrusting out her behind into him-and the overbalanced Harper put out a foot to brace himself, brought it down on the edge of the toppled wardrobe, turned his ankle, and toppled helplessly. The Silken Shadow jerked, elbow-thrust, and twisted desperately to free herself from his grasp, and so bounced atop him but out of his hands when he crashed down onto the already-split back panel of the wardrobe.
"My clothes!" Starmara Dagohnlar moaned-as Narnra Shalace sprang up off the man who'd saved her life like a dark whirlwind and made for the window.
Rhauligan roared in pain and self-annoyance and rolled himself upright, ignoring the sudden cries from the floor of, "Rescue! Sir, a rescue! We're rich, we can pay! Help us, please!"
He was in time to see the faint rectangle of light at the window blotted out by Narnra's rushing body-then clear again. A moment later, there was a mighty splash from below.
The canal. She was going to drown herself in the gods-rotting canal.
With a growl of rising rage Glarasteer Rhauligan ran across the room, bounded once-and plunged through the window cleanly, heralding his own, mightier splash.
Durexter and Starmara Dagohnlar exchanged bewildered glances, but their bedchamber, as long moments dragged and passed, remained empty of suddenly appearing, charging and knife-waving hooded assailants… or any other unexpected new arrivals, either.
They regarded each other again… and in unspoken accord, stirred into action