Stormlight - Ed Greenwood [43]
Ergluth Rowanmantle waited for the stormy reply that was sure to come. In the terse silence, the mage's hands tightened on a certain wand at his belt.
Surprisingly, Storm smiled. "Ah, you're awake at last. Good. Are you listening?" As Broglan sputtered, her eyes went to Ergluth. He nodded.
Storm walked to the bed, put her arm around one of its ornamental posts to lean against it, and told the nearest wall, "Long ago, I came to love a man-the man whose likeness you saw last night Maxan Maxer was his name, a good and law-abiding man from Turmish. He was quick with a blade, and one of the most thoughtful beings I've ever met. He was always anticipating, thinking ahead, and arranging things to flow easily."
The bard's voice grew husky. She stared off through the wall, seeing things far away and long ago. "We lived and laughed and adventured together for years, until he fell… in the Year of the Bright Blade."
"You thought him dead?" Broglan snapped, every inch the inquisitor.
Storm looked at him coolly. "I saw him die. We were in a ruined city north of Escalant, fighting tanar'ri. Cambions and dretches had been scouring the countryside, seizing farm folk and bearing them off to an old temple there."
"For some sort of dark ritual?" Broglan asked, sounding disgusted. "I must have heard this tale a hundred times."
Storm shrugged. "Do you want to hear my words, or not? If I offer truth and you dismiss it, war wizard, there is very little I can do to help you. If you think me false, there are spells that can detect lying, and- unlike some-I'd gladly submit to them."
She looked at him in dear challenge and kept silent until Broglan dropped his eyes and muttered, "Go on."
Storm nodded her head as if she were a queen solemnly agreeing to something distasteful. She said, "All of the foul ones served a marilith who sought more power. She believed-perhaps rightly-that the ritual she'd discovered or devised would yield to her the life-forces of sacrificed humans so that she could grow far more powerful than others of her kind… and come to dominate them. We fought our way into the temple and disrupted her ritual."
"Was that ritual the cause of the spell storms I've heard about, that made southern Thay perilous?" the boldshield asked, frowning.
"Not the ritual, but our breaking of it," Storm said. "It bad been going for a long time, and the energies burst out in waves of enchanted fire and wild magic. The temple roof fell. Many humans and tanar'ri alike died. My beloved hewed his way almost to the marilith, striking ahead where I could not reach, being engaged with too many foes."
Old anguish made her voice harsh. She looked away, eyes falling to the silent body on her bed.
"A tanar'ri drew six blades and fenced with him. I heard her hiss in glee: 'A worthy opponent to slay!' Maxer proved a worthier opponent than she'd thought, lopping off several of her arms. As I cut my way free of the last cambions around me, I heard her shriek with rage, and saw her writhing, racked with pain. She stopped toying with my beloved."
Storm took a deep breath and turned to face them again. "She ran her snakelike tail up around his neck from behind.. and tore his head off I saw his body jerk and spray out lifeblood… I saw his head roll across the temple. Before I could avenge my love, the marilith fled in spell-smokes, still clutching his body. When all was done,