Stormlight - Ed Greenwood [110]
Since falling on-and killing, she hoped-the horrible war wizard, she'd remembered where one of her mother's robing rooms was, not far from here, and had been limping cautiously toward it. To get into proper boots again! Her feet were in ribbons from these stones, and she'd just ruined this dress…
Rats around a partly buried armsman scattered reluctantly as she went past. She shuddered-and then, seeing his dagger lying by itself among rubble, she snatched it up. The stair was just ahead, here…
*****
By the time Broglan reached what was left of the courtyard, he was certain the woman in his arms was alive.
Twice Storm had murmured something. Once she'd twitched, just for a moment. He laid her down gently by the well, and then sat beside her, shaking with exhaustion; she was taller and probably heavier than he, and he was not overly young or overly fit.
When he could trust his arms and shoulders to stop trembling, Broglan drew up a bucket of icy water, drank, and then tried to get some into Storm. It gurgled between her parted lips but just sloshed there; he sat her up, and then held her hand in the bucket. It numbed his fingers to do it, but she did not react.
“Storm!” he hissed, not wanting to shout. “Storm-wake up!” He rubbed her wrists briskly, and then on an impulse pinched one arm. Nothing. Her head lolled as limply as ever. He dashed cold water across her face, and watched it run down her; she sat unmoving.
“Storm!” He slapped her gently, and then drew back his hand and stared at it. What was he doing?
What could he do?
He looked around wildly in the moonlight-and then remembered the box of leavings he’d found in the stables on his first survey of the keep. Rusty old bells, a lot of discarded purse-straps and single boots, filthy shreds of blanked-and an old, gnarl-stringed harp in a much patched leather case. Gods willing, it was still there!
It was. With a feeling of triumph, he bore it out into the moonlight, undid the case, and drew it out. Three of the strings were broken, and he knew nothing about harping, but-
He brought his fingers down across the strings, strumming them as he sang," 'Sleeping maidens wake! Lovers hearts do break! As for me, I seek-a love who'll…' oh, gods' spit, but I can't remember the rest of it!"
In lower, less exasperated tones, he added the observation, "And I can't sing, either, but-"
"You did well enough," the bard's voice said by his ear, soft and low.
"Storm!" he cried, flinging his arms around her and kissing her while tears of joy and relief sprang forth; from his eyes. "You're awake! You're-"
His babblings were stopped by a firm kiss. Then two fingers were on his hps, bidding him be silent. She quietly finished his sentence: "-almost as glad to see you again as you are to see me!"
She gave him a smile and added, "By the graced of Mystra, I've been in fire trance, slowly coming back from, well, a sword's edge away from death. You've been carrying me and defending me, and Mystra knows what else," She gave him a smile of thanks and admiration, and squeezed his shoulder. Broglan winced; that shoulder had already been hurting.
The bard looked around. "So here we are, in the moonlight. How stand things in the keep?"
"Horrible," Broglan muttered. "The place is a ruin, with most everyone dead-except, I fear, the shapeshifter. Will you lower your barrier so I can call Lord Vangerdahast? If that… fiend is still alive, we'll need all the war wizards we can get here!"
"If we do that," Storm said quietly, "they'll be needed all over the realm, wherever they came from… because our murderous foe will be there, and everywhere, on the loose. No, the barrier stays up."
"But what then do we do?" Broglan asked, almost pleading. "The moon'll go down soon, and we'll be at his mercy. We dare not hunt through the keep again, or we'll be slain!"
"We use me as bait," Storm told him, smiling weakly. "Care to light the lamps of a lady's bedchamber- and then wait in the closet like any young lover? They're sure to check under the bed…"
Broglan rolled bis eyes. "If we get out of this, I'll