Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [26]
At that moment the squid burst from the water, tossing its enormous head from side to side as ifin mortal anguish. A small bulge rippled along the elastic carapace, working its way upward.
Xzorsh came to Liriel's side, his green eyes narrowed as he studied the creature. "The human is alive," the sea elf said with disbelief. "He is trying to cut his way through!" "Fyodor is inside the creature, alive?" the drow said, hope and incredulity mixing in her voice.
"Squid are difficult to kill, even from the inside," Xzorsh explained grimly. "Had the human been swallowed by a vurgen, he could have cut his way out easily. Here, his only hope is to find the creature's eyes. We have nothing that can cut through that carapace."
Maybe you don't, Liriel thought. The drow scanned the deck, looking for the bag that held her throwing spiders. After several frantic moments, she spotted it tangled up in a length of rope. She quickly snatched up a handful of weapons: fist-sized metal spiders, their eight legs perfectly balanced, tipped in deadly spikes and fortified with the magic of the Underdark.
The drow hurled the spiders, one after another. The magic-enhanced weapons bit deep into the squid's carapace, forming a precise line and opening a wide crack. Before Liriel could stop him, Xzorsh picked up a harpoon and hurled it into the opening. The weapon sank deep into the wound, and the barbed point exploded from one of the creature's eyes. The squid finally went limp, and its tentacles rose to the surface like rays from a sun. The creature was dead, but so might Fyodor be as well.
Liriel whirled on the sea elf, speechless with rage.
"To show him the way out," Xzorsh explained.
Sure enough, a hand groped its way along the exposed shaft of the harpoon. In a moment, Fyodor's head burst from the ruined eye. He dashed the gore from his face and dragged in several long breaths. His foe was dead; the battle rage slipped away. For as long as a berserker rage lasted, he never felt pain, or cold, or exhaustion. Those things would come now.
With difficulty, the young warrior squeezed himself through the eye socket and began to swim with uncertain strokes for the ship. Xzorsh dove into the water to help, and a dozen hands reached out to help the day's hero aboard.
Fyodor slumped to the deck, pale as seafoam. His shirt had been ripped from shoulder to waist, and blood welled up from a dozen circular wounds. The sea elf began to tend the man, his movements so sure and deft that not even Liriel thought to interfere.
"Now there's a tale to tell your son's sons," Hrolf declared, shaking his head in disbelief. "it's lucky we are to have a berserker aboard!"
"it's ill fortune at work here!" the first mate said angrily. "Granted, the lad killed the creature. But by my reckoning, the squid never would have attacked if the female had not been aboard! And for that matter, what kind of man calls a black elf woman friend?"
it was a long speech for ibn, and the sheer passion in his words brought sympathetic murmurs from the battered crew. Dark, furtive glares skittered toward the drow.
"What kind of man?" Hrolfrepeated and then shrugged. "i also count the drow as a friend, and by my reckoning i captain this ship still. So speak your mind as you will, lad, but my orders stand."
There was nothing ibn could say to that. He recognized his mistake at once. Every man aboard held the captain in high esteem, and most of them regarded the wounded berserker with something approaching reverence. They were willing enough to turn upon the drow, but not one among them could discredit what Fyodor had just done or would argue against the word or will of their captain. So the first mate contented himself with muttering, "Bad fortune!" as he stalked off in search of a dry pipe.
"Pay him no mind, lass," Hrolf advised Liriel. "ibn is a good man, but slow to let go once he takes hold of something. He's not one for new ways, and yours are strange to us all." He east a curious look