Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [37]
At length Hrolflaid the elfling gently aside and ordered his men to search the other barrels. His haggard face turned deadly as, one after another, the dead sea elves were laid out upon the deck.
"Call Xzorsh," he said grimly.
One of the men hurried below, returning promptly with a strange device that looked rather like a small hurdygurdy. Hrolf placed the thing in the water and turned the wooden crank. Instead of music, the instrument gave off a series of clicks and whistles.
"A message to the sea elf," Bjorn whispered to Liriel. "Sounds travel faster and farther in the water than in air. There are creatures below who will hear and repeat the message until it reaches the sea range~s ears. He will be here soon, and he will know what must be done."
When Hrolf rose to his feet, ibn took the device from him and then nodded toward the cog. "What do we do with the ship and the men who yet live?"
"Scuttle it," Hrolf said tersely, "and leave the surviving scum to await Umberlee's judgment. But bind their wounds first, so the blood doesn't draw sharks or worse. The Lady of the Waves will do as she will, with no help from me!"
The captain's wrath sped the men about their work. They fell to, some loading the wounded hunters into a single small boat, others using battle-axes to hack gaping holes in the side of the cog. One of the survivors-the redhaired man who'd matched Hrolf blow for blow-tried to have words with the captain. Hrolf effectively silenced his protests; a single blow of his ham-sized fist dropped the fighter. The captain tossed the unconscious man into the little craft and gave the signal to set it adrift. In moments the mists closed around the condemned men, like a veil separating them from the mortal world.
Hrolf stood at the rail, looking out after the boat with grim satisfaction long after it had disappeared from view. Quietly, respectfully, the crew went about their duties. Few of them knew the full story of their captain's long-ago elven love, but there was not one among them who hadn't lost someone to the sea. There was not one among them who didn't send up a silent plea to Umberlee, asking the Lady of the Waves to take the wounded seal hunters to appease her wrath rather than someone else.
in these prayers, no one dared to name himselt; or a friend or lover whom he wished to see spared. Those who lived with the sea were a superstitious lot, and they took their fate as it came. Yet not a man among them would deliberately place himself at the mercy of Umberlee, and not a man among them doubted what the seal hunters' fate would be at the hands of the sea goddess. And although they were Northmen, a people who as a rule held little love for elves, none of them believed that this fate was undeserved.
Chapter 5
The Amulet
Liriel Baenre, the newly elevated ruler of Menzoberranzan's most powerful house, sat in state upon her black throne. Faint purple light surrounded the young Matron Mother, casting eerie shadows throughout the chamber and forcing the eyes of the priestess seated before her into the light spectrum. This Triel did by design, for light stole the nuances of heat vision, masked the subtle play of emotion that dark elves were so adept at reading. To the drow, absolute darkness revealed more than it hid. Shadows were more useful for concealment.
it was important that Triel hide her distaste for her visitor, for Shakti Hunzrin was a valuable tool, the first traitorpriestess in generations to successfully infiltrate the ranks ofVhaeraun's clergy. The known followers of the drow god of thievery were few-in no small part because suspected followers were summarily put to death-but Triel believed that the so-calied Masked God posed more of a threat than Lloth's clergy liked to admit. As traitor-priestess, Shakti would help ensure that this dangerous seed never bore fruit. The Baenre