Rising tide - Mel Odom [73]
Some words came to mind as he attempted to describe what was happening, but they were disjointed fragments of the song he'd been weaving together. The battle for the harbor continued. Savvy sea captains mustered their crews and managed to repel some of the boarders. A dragon turtle breathed out steam and burned a griffon and its rider from the sky. The blackened corpses tumbled into the dark water, then the turtle in turn was attacked by a group of mermen mounted on sea horses. The mermen darted at the huge creature, throwing javelins into it. When the turtle had enough, it dived underwater, but the mermen didn't give up the chase and dived on their mounts as well.
A woman's shriek drew the bard's attention. He whipped his head back to look toward the Mermaid's Arms. The festhall had become a bloodbath as sahuagin fought with the patrons. A mass of other fights still filled the street and intersection in front of the festhall. Pacys couldn't help wondering about how many would die before morning.
He drank in all the sights, feeling guilty at being so greedy to see all the carnage. He knew there were other bards in the city, and he knew they'd all have their tales to tell of the battle for Waterdeep Harbor. Realization of that made a small kernel of doubt grow inside him. A wave of heat washed over him from the burning ships at the nearby docks, pushed by the howling winds blowing across the harbor from the Sea of Swords. The stench of brine, tainted with smoke, interspersed with blood, filled the air.
Knowing he could go no further down Dock Street, Pacys turned and went back the other way, back toward Asteril's Way. He saw the guild hall of the Order of Master Shipwrights and noticed the large group of Waterdhavian Guard that had gathered there. Evidently someone had decided to use the two-story guild hall as a staging area.
Pacys ran hard, feeling the familiar aches and twinges start in his knees, and the shortness of breath that plagued him these days. He didn't give in to the infirmity.
Another wave broke over the top of the pilings to his left and cut his feet out from under him. He got to his feet with effort, hacking and coughing as he tried to clear the brine from his lungs.
A loud smack sounded behind him, too loud to be anything human sized. Remembering the dead giant worm he'd seen, the bard turned and stared behind him, raising the staff to defend himself. He thought he had a momentary glimpse of a twenty foot long fish that started pulling itself along by four tentacles, but he saw instantly that his mind must have been playing tricks on him.
Ardynn stood before him, her brunette hair falling past her shoulders in a wavy mass of curls. She stood as tall as him, but had the full glow of a womanly body scarcely concealed by the white gossamer pantaloons she wore over a crimson body suit that left her arms and legs bare. Gold bracelets adorned her wrists and ankles, and the small ruby he'd given her all those years ago dangled from the fine gold chains wrapping her forehead. Her teeth were clean, white, and even. The barest trace of cinnamon scent clung to her as she came closer.
"Have you forgotten me so soon, young minstrel?" she asked in that mocking way she had.
"No." Pacys answered. There was no way he could forget her. The memory of when the bard had arrived at Maskyr's Eye had inspired a number of songs he'd written in his youth and later disguised for presentation in his travels. He'd been seventeen at the time, already tired of the life of farmer and horse breeder, and she'd awakened in him the wanderlust that followed him throughout his life.
Ardynn had been then as she was now, just as beauteous, and her voice sounding like elf-made honey. She'd sung at the Wizard's Hand, one of the finest inns in all the Vast. At the time, she'd been four years older than he was. She'd come to see the village because she'd heard of it and had never been there. When she'd left three days later, Pacys had gone with her despite his father's wishes. He could count on the fingers of one hand