Tangled webs - Elaine Cunningham [76]
We will provision your ship and provide you with fresh sailors and fighters from among the people ofTrisk, so that you might continue your pursuit of the Ruathen ship. These two will go to help ensure your success.
"What need have i of two females?" Rethnor demanded, appalled by the very idea of setting sail with these creatures aboard.
iskor; the water wraith, can speak with the creatures of the sea and locate the ship you seek in moments. She can also summon powerful beings from her native plane. Perhaps such can succeed where you, to date, have not. Shakti, the drow, has yet to prove her worth, but you will take her all the same.
Rethnor glowered at the elf. His fierce glare had turned aside powerful warriors, cooled the battle ardor of hardened Northmen. But the drow's strange red gaze did not falter; indeed, she seemed to grow only more angry as she regarded the man.
"This insult is past bearing," she spat, speaking in harsh, badly accented Common. As she spoke, she fingered the silver cuff that clung to one pointed ear-no doubt some magical device that translated her speech, Rethnor surmised.
"i sought partnership with a water wraith, offering value for value, and how am i repaid?" the drow continued bitterly. "Taken to this… faerie city and apprenticed to a human? A male!"
Do you not wish to capture your runaway drow? She is on the ship this man seeks. You need him, and he you. I strongly suggest you find a way to work together; the illithid commanded.
The Northman and the drow locked stares, taking furious measure of each other. Rethnor was the first to speak. "When we find the ship, the berserker warrior is mine to slay. Keep your foul magic away from him," he ordered.. "What is a human fighter to me? But touch the yelloweyed bitch, and you die!" snarled Shakti in return.
Well, lvell, observed the illithid's mental voice, showing the first note of humor Rethnor had ever perceived in it. It would seem that you two have found common ground already.
The Elfmaid kept a steady course upon the warm waters of the River, rounding the island of Gundarlun without incident and then turning southward toward Ruathym. Despite the loss of the large profit the herring would have brought them, the crew seemed cheerful and eager for the return home.
All but young Bjorn, who usually spent the long days at his carving or painting. Unusually restless, he paced the deck for hours at a time, looking toward the sky as if there were words written there that only he could read.
At twilight of the third day, Hrolf could bear no more of this. "Out with it, lad! if there's a storm coming, say so and be done with it!"
The young sailor looked troubled. "Not a storm," he said hesitantly. "But something. I know not what." He shrugged, sheepish as a child pressed to confess the details of an unremembered nightmare.
The answer was soon to come. Liriel saw it first, for the range of her elven vision was longer than even that of the farsighted sailors. A dark wall of water raced toward them from the northwest, gaining height and power as it came. The pirates watched its approach stoically, knowing their seamanship to be no match for the killing wave. Liriel was not so accepting of her fate. She seized the Windwalker and began to chant, calling upon the strongest defensive sea-magic spells she had studied and stored in the amulet. A bubble of energy, glowing faintly with the faerie fire of drow magic, encircled the ship like a giant dome.
"To retain air around the ship, and keep us from being swept under," Liriel explained tersely. "it gives us a chance, no more."
Hrolf wrapped an arm around her tense shoulder and gave her a quick, grateful squeeze. "That's more than we had a moment earlier. Grab ahold, lads, and prepare to get bounced around some!" he roared.
As the echoes of his voice reverberated through the magical bubble, the captain dropped facedown to the deck and took hold of a secured rope line. Elsewhere, the other sailors followed his example, bracing