Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [45]
Rethnor hurried to his house, impatiently waVing away his wife's questions and the ministrations of his servants. He hastened to his private room and set flame to the wick of a whale-oillamp. After bolting the door, he tugged off his gloves and regarded the scrying crystal on his ring. The glossy black color of the onyx had faded completely; in the small magic portal he saw the face of a beautiful, regal woman with impassive lavender eyes.
"Well?" he snapped, staring balefully at the tiny image. "Bad news or good, it had better be worth the interruption!" You be the judge. The cool, feminine voice sounded only in his mind. No sound came from the ring; indeed, the woman's lips never moved. Rethnor often wondered why she bothered to show her face at all.
The seal hunters did not reach Waterdeep. The ship was intercepted by a Ruathen vessel. We believe it is bound for its home port.
Rethnor swore bitterly. He'd gone to a great deal of trouble and expense to set up this diversion: capturing the sea elves, delivering them alive to a secret drop on the distant archipelago known as the Purple Rocks, taking the bodies back to the coast in Ruathen barrels, putting them on a caravel set adrift in the known path of the Waterdhavian hunting vessel. It was but one of many acts Luskan had arranged and placed upon Ruathym's doorstep, just one step toward justifying Luskan's coming takeover of the island. But it was a particularly potent ruse, one that Rethnor knew would strike a responsive chord in the hearts of the Waterdhavian rulers. In fact, the idea had come from Waterdeep itself:
in recent months, reports of attacks on sea-elf communities had filtered ashore. Since it was well known that the Northmen of Luskan and Ruathym had no love for elves of any kind, the Lords of Waterdeep had made pointed inquiries. In truth, Luskan had had little to do with the sea elves' troubles; that did not stop Rethnor from exploiting them. If the elf-ioving southern meddlers were determined to make this their affair, why not focus their indignation upon Ruathym? Yes, Rethnor concluded, this plan must be salvaged.
"What do you suggest?" he asked the tiny image.
Stop the ship, of course. We are told it left Neverwinter two days ago, sailing due west upon the River: Stop it, and do whatever you must to affix blame for the sea-elven troubles upon Ruathym.
Rethnor nodded. This would actually be easier than it sounded, for the channel of warm water known as the River was relatively narrow and the Ruathen ship had only two days' head start. The ships of Luskan were fleet; he could close the distance in mere days.
"i will handle it myself," he promised.
Take two ships, the voice suggested, and as many fighters as they can carry. We have received word that there is a berserker warrior aboard the Ruathen vessel. He destroyed a giant squid, the emblem of the Kraken Society, and in so doing has earned our special enmity.
The High Captain blinked, and for a moment his usually rock-steady confidence wavered. He had fought Ruathym's berserkers. They were trouble enough ashore; he did not relish the thought of fighting one in the close confines of a ship-to-ship battle. Still, berserkers were only mortal men, and they were even more eager than most Northmen warriors to tak2 a seat in the mead halls of Tempus. He, Rethnor, would happily oblige this one.
"Three ships," he told the image with grim pleasure. "i sail at dawn with three warships."
For a long moment Liriel merely stared at the man trapped in her magical web, completed dumbfounded by ibn's promise of death. She had acted only to defend herself-surely Hrolfwould not turn against her for this! But ibn seemed so certain, and he had sailed with the captain for years. And truly, what did she know about the strange ways of humans?
Liriel's drow instincts