Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [63]
Fyodor looked doubtful, but he held his opinions to himself and led her through the broadly grinning pirates, up to the prow of the ship. Bjorn stood there, clearly embarrassed to be the focus of all eyes. His face gleamed red beneath the yellow tufts of his virgin beard, and behind him loomed his latest-and largest-work of art.
The elf-maid figurehead, inanimate once again and back in her proper place, had been repainted to resemble a drow with golden eyes. The flowing wooden locks were now white, and the still-wet paint of the face a glossy black. Some attempt had even been made to whittle the figurehead's lavish curves down to something more closely approximating Liriel's lithe form.
An unfamiliar emotion tightened the drow's throat as she gazed up at her own likeness.
Hrolf came to drape a massive arm around her shoulder. "Looks good on the old girl, doesn't it?" he said happily. "And by Tempus, won't the new elf maid spook damn near anyone we happen to meet! Umberlee take me if i shouldn't ha' thought of this years ago!"
Chapter 9
Strange Alliances
The Cutlass sped toward the Purple Rocks, its skeleton crew spurred to exhaustion and beyond by their grim-faced captain. Rethnor was determined to reach Trisk in record time, for there was much at stake. He had lost not only his sword hand, but also his magical onyx ring-his only means of receiving messages from the westem command center of the Kraken Society.
The captain could send missives-the magic pendant that he wore hidden under his tunic would relay his words to the western outpost-but this was not enough to meet his needs. He sailed to Trisk, not only to replace the scrying device, but also to enlist the help of Kraken agents who lived on the remote island.
Or, more to the point, around the island.
Rumors were plentiful among the people of the Kraken-this was to be expected in an organization that dealt in information brokering. Many of these were whispered tales of the strange magics and deadly beasts that haunted the western outpost. Even allowing for poetic license and the usual tavem boasting, there was no denying the dangerous nature of the waters around the Purple Rocks. Rethnor believed many of the rumored sea creatures were real and that some of them answered to the bidding of the Kraken Society. And more importantly, he had come to suspect that small and modest Trisk was in reality the primary base for the entire network of spies and assassins.
Rethnor intended to demand an audience with the leader of the society, and he did not think he would be refused. No matter how powerful the dark network of the Kraken might be, the base itself could not survive without trade. And Luskan was the island's strongest trade partner. In Rethnor's estimation, he had more than enough leverage to warrant all the demands he intended to make.
The captain pulled his magic pendant from its hiding place and began to dictate his orders into the shining disk, sending messages across the sea to the Purple Rocks and to hidden outposts on the mainland. For the first time he understood why the unknown, unnamed woman with the lavender eyes appeared to him in his scrying crystal. Without such reassurance, it was hard for him to accept that the magical messages truly reached their destinations.
As he looked out over the icy sea, the Northmandespite his inbred distaste for things magical-found himself wishing he had some knowledge of the art so that he could sense the far-reaching ripples that carried his commands to distant shores. Power he had, wealth in abundance, great strength and remarkable fighting prowess. But it occurred to him that these things provided little protection against the might of magic. The thought