Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [101]
Then a faint song, like that of someone singing softly for her own pleasure, came to him on the wind. The young Rashemi paused to listen, entranced by the artless beauty of the song. Quietly he made his way around a tall pile of dark rocks, rounding a point that curved in to form a small cove. The singer stood on a large rock at the very edge of the sea, looking out over the water and singing softly in a language Fyodor did not recognize. She was a young woman, fair-haired like a Northwoman but more delicate-nearly as slim and small as an elf. Very beautiful she was, with pale skin that glowed like pearl in the moonlight and soft ripples of gold hair flowing free over her shoulders. She started like a fawn when she caught sight of Fyodor and lost her footing on the wet rocks.
Fyodor instinctively darted forward to catch her as she tumbled from her perch. For a moment, the golden singer filled his arms, and the dull ache the warrior always carried with him was forgotten. She drew away-too soon!her hands nervously smoothing the white shawl knotted about her waist.
"Do not fear me, lady," he said softly. "Your song drew me, but i have no wish to harm you or even to disturb your solitude. If you wish, i will leave you."
A slow smile came to her face. "You are kind," she said in a shy, sweet voice. "in truth, i would welcome your company-indeed, would you be willing to see me safely home? i was lost in the song and did not realize until just now how dark the night has become."
The last words were spoken with an odd mixture of apprehension and innocent flirtation. Fyodor took the hand she offered him, steadying her as they made their way along the shore. The girl began to sing again as they walked, silvery music that melded with the moonlit waves until sea and sound were as one. Fyodor did not know exactly when it was that they stopped walking, or when the girl came again into his arms. His mind registered the soft caress of the waves lapping against them both and the sweet, salty taste of her lips on his. Or was it the sea? He did not know or care.
A shrill, anguished scream split the air and shattered Fyodor's dreamlike haze. Cold assaulted him like a blow, and he saw with astonishment that he stood knee-deep in the icy waves. Not far away was Liriel, a grimly triumphant smile on her dark face and a white silk shawl fluttering like a victory banner in her hands. The golden singer knelt in the water before the drow, her hands outstretched beseechingly as she wept and pleaded for the return of her shawl.
Slowly the details of their plan returned to his benumbed mind, and Fyodor realized with intense chagrin how completely he had succumbed to the nereid's charm. Had he truly been alone, the siren would have tried to drown him as she had no doubt slain the missing fisherfolk. Yet so beautiful was the nereid, so utterly human her appearance and so heartbreaking her distress, that Fyodor had a difficult time remembering she was a thing of evil. Liriel, however, had no such problem.
"Be still!" she hissed, brandishing the shawl in the weeping nereid's face. "By this token, you are mine. Accept your servitude and remain in the sea-silent and unseenuntil i have need of you."
The nereid covered her face with her hands, wailing pitifully as she sank below the water, disappearing as she went.
Fyodor turned incredulous eyes upon the drow. "You will keep her enslaved?"
"Of course," Liriel said casually. "You never know when a nereid might come in handy. Nice job, by the way, bringing her out into the water toward me. I wasn't sure you would realize that i followed you in the water so as not to leave footprints in the sand."
He hadn't realized that, but he wisely decided to let the matter stand. Despite the success of their plan, he could not help but be dismayed, not only by the ease with which Liriel consigned the nereid to servitude, but also by her willingness to use the nereid's services despite its evil nature.