Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [34]
The pirates' spirits returned in full once they were aboard the Elfmaid. Only Fyodor felt any ill effects from the mead, and although the young warrior was the target ofmuch good-natured teasing, he felt too miserable to wonder why he was the only one so affected.
To Liriel's chagrin, the Elfmaid did not head directly for Ruathym. Hrolf set course for Neverwinter, a coastal city some three hundred miles to the north. The Ruathen wished to trade some of their stolen gold for Neverwinter crafts, but there was another, more practical reason for the diversion as well. Neverwinter was named for its unusually warm climate and a harbor that remained free of ice year round. This was in part due to the River, a current of warm water and air that swept eastward from Evermeet, over the island of Gundarlun, and narrowing until it touched Neverwinter's shores. So early in the spring, sailing the River was far safer than taking their chances against the ice floes that dotted the open sea. Hrolf planned to take to the River at Neverwinter, sail to Gundarlun to fish for spring herring, then travel due south to Ruathym. The expected profit was considerable, but this added time to the journey that Liriel had not considered. She had no idea how long the magic stored in the Windwalker might last, and she was anxious to reach Ruathym as soon as possible.
But the drow tried to make the best of the delay, using the time to study the book of sea magic and to add more spells to the Windwalker. Storytelling passed the time, too, and Liriel coaxed Hrolf and Olvir for information on their island home. As the days passed, she and Fyodor fell back into the comfortable routine of fellow travelers. Neither of them mentioned the moment that had passed between them in Hrolf's cabin, but Liriel thought of it often. She suspected that Fyodor did, as well.
At last the ship reached Neverwinter. The Elfmaid was received at the port by an armed guard. But after the dockmaster saw a sample of the pirates' golden treasure, she allowed the ship to dock-with the provision that Hrolfthe Unruly remain under heavy guard on his own ship. It seemed that several taverns in Neverwinter had reason to remember the captain.
Liriel enjoyed exploring the city-walking at Fyodor's side, cloaked in invisibility. To her fell the task of browsing through shops displaying the water clocks and multicolored lamps for which Neverwinter's artisans were famed.
Some of the stolen gold went to purchase a few of these treasures, which Hrolf would sell to wealthy Ruathen. It was a pleasant interlude, but the drow was not sorry when the Elfmaid put out to sea.
They sailed westward for two days before encountering another vessel in the warm waters of the River. Fyodor was on the forecastle taking a turn at watch when he saw it: a sturdy cog, leaning hard to the leeward, cutting through the water with almost reckless speed. He called an alert down to Hrolf, who was manning the rudder and regaling Liriel with stories of Ruathym.
"i know that ship," Hrolf commented, peering at it through an eyeglass. "She carries seal hunters. On their way back home, they are, and in a hurry."
His mustache lifted in a broad grin, and he winked at a pair of sailors lounging nearby. "Think of it, lads: a pallet of fine white fur. Now there's a gift to brighten your woman's eye and sweeten your welcome home!"
Liriel cast a quick glance toward Fyodor and shook her head. "Don't do it, Hrolt;" she murmured. "You've seen him in battle only against a squid. I've seen him fight drowand win."
The captain scoffed. "What kind of fool do you take me for, lass? Think you that i'd risk turning a berserker's wrath upon my own ship?"
Hrolf pointed at the approaching cog. "i know her captain. Name of Farlow, used to be a sell-sword. A good man, if you like 'em quick to fight, and he knows us as pirates! All we need do is sail close