Pool of Radiance - James M. Ward [118]
Ren volunteered to collect some wood. As he saw it, nobody from Phlan would attempt to come this way before morning, if at all. The creatures they had to worry about would more likely be repelled by a fire than drawn to it.
Alone together as they laid out their bedding and prepared a meager meal of dried fruits and meat, Shal and Tarl shared a brief few minutes of awkward silence.
Tarl cleared his throat and spoke hesitantly. "Shal, I really don't know how to say this. I-I know you care for Ren-"
"It's not the same," Shal said softly.
Tarl looked straight into Shal's green eyes."Meaning?"
Shal held out her hands for Tarl's. She had been so unsure of herself when they first met on the docks of Phlan that she was aware only of his tremendous kindness. Ren's attraction to her had seemed justified somehow by her resemblance to Tempest, but Tarl's she had not fully accepted. Even after he healed her in the temple, she'd felt he might simply be caught in the overwhelming emotion of the moment. But right now, as he grasped her hands and pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her, she knew that Tarl's affection was both strong and genuine. "Meaning I love you, Tarl."
As warm and wonderful as she had felt every time Tarl had healed her, she felt twice as good now. A special electricity, an uncanny awareness of his touch, coursed through her as she felt his fingertips ever so gentle on her neck and back, his soft kiss on her forehead, and then the warmth of his breath in her ear as he whispered, "I love you, too, Shal."
There was a considerable thrashing in the brush nearby, and the two pulled apart instantly and drew their weapons just in time to see Ren returning to their makeshift campsite.
"You're not very graceful for a ranger!" Shal jested, fighting her own embarrassment.
"Every bit as graceful as I want to be," said Ren, smiling wistfully.
Tarl rushed over to help prepare the fire.
"There's no sign that there's been anything more fierce than skunks or snakes traveling through this stretch of woods any time recently," said Ren. "I think we can sleep without worrying tod much."
Tarl still kept a late-night vigil, watching and listening for signs of anything, living or undead, nearby. It was as Ren said, quiet and still except for the lively dancing of shadows from their flickering fire. Tarl sat beside Shal and watched her as she slept, the red cascades of her hair aglow in the firelight. When all remained quiet, he silently pulled his bedroll next to hers and lay down. While the stars rose and fell in the sky, he prayed and communed with his god until he fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
Ren feigned sleep the entire time Tarl kept watch. His mind was churning with thoughts of the morning. Tarl and Shal had both proved themselves as fighters, but Ren was convinced that neither would make it through the graveyard tomorrow. It was too easy to wake the undead, to make a move that would bring them springing up by the dozens as had happened at Sokol Keep. And the undead of Valhingen Graveyard weren't former Tyrian clerics. His mind made up, he allowed himself a brief, restless sleep.
When Tarl and Shal awoke, Ren was gone. Stud's first thought was that he somehow felt alienated because of what he had seen when he returned with the firewood, but Tarl shook his head firmly. "No. He's told me more than once that I didn't stand a chance of getting the hammer back. He believes that, with his rangering and thieving skills, he can get it. I think he went into the graveyard alone."
Shal felt a chill was over her. She had heard Ren say as much yesterday-how the key to passing through a place filled with undead was stealth, and that Tarl's presence, his aura, his medallion, everything about him offended the undead because he was a servant of a benevolent god.
They wasted no time and broke camp quickly. The sun wasn't even completely over the horizon when they reached the gate to the cemetery. A huge lump caught in Tarl's throat when Shal called for