The Floodgate - Elaine Cunningham [70]
Andris decided she would provide as good an example as any.
When he was yet a few paces away, he took a deep breath and dived toward the big Crinti and her sparring partner. His translucent form all but disappeared.
The water began to roil frantically as the two women stabbed at their unseen foe.
He held back out of reach until the right moment, then seized the gray hands that drove a sword into the water. He worked with the Crinti's movement, adding his strength to push the blade deep into the stream bed. The extra "help" threw the elf off balance. Andris kicked out hard, catching her leg just above the knee. He burst out of the water, dancing away in time to see the woman flop facedown into the water, her ample, leather-clad rump followed by her flailing boots.
"A breaching whale," Andris mocked. He turned to the downed woman's companion, who held her sword above the water in lunge position. "Next, I suppose, comes the narwhal."
The Crinti woman came on hard but did not anticipate the full impact of the water's resistance. Andris ducked under the water. He caught the woman by her hips, just under her center of balance, and pushed up hard as he rose. The precisely timed movement sent the Crinti into brief and impromptu flight. She splashed down and skimmed the water, like a leaping swordfish.
Andris spoke into ominous silence. "The whale and the narwhal are creatures I know. For the wise warrior, knowing comes before fighting."
The light broke over the big Crinti's wet, gray face. "You know the creatures of this water world?"
Andris gave a succinct description of the mantinarg, the creature whose skull Shanair had displayed with such pride.
The big Crinti nodded. "Yes, that is the beast we fought. Tell us of others."
The warriors gathered around as Andris told them what he knew. He started with tritons, powerful blue-skinned warriors with fins for feet. The Crinti scoffed at the idea of fighting against tridents, equating these pronged weapons with the pitiful defense mounted by human farmers. Andris fashioned a crude trident from a tree limb to prove them wrong. After he dropped three Crinti on their muscled backsides, the others were willing to take him seriously.
Andris slipped once again into the role of battle leader-showing the Crinti new attacks, offering suggestions to pairs of sparring warriors, keenly observing the strengths and limitations of his troops and building a battle strategy. After the intense inner conflict of the past few days, it was an enormous relief to be engaged in something he understood.
From a distance, Kiva watched with an approving smile. Andris, like the laraken, was proving useful beyond his original purpose. His elf heritage had nearly killed him in Akhlaur's swamp, yet it had welded him to her cause. He obviously struggled with the grim realities of his chosen path, but he would not turn back. Andris was hers. She had read this knowledge in his eyes when he realized his kinship to the Mhair elves.
The power of kinship was strong, even in the humans. Family was destinyKiva believed this to the depths of her soul. Perhaps that was why she stumbled over the three direct descendants of Akhlaur and his conspirators at nearly every turn. Perhaps they, too, had a destiny.
The globe in Kiva's lap began to glow. Puzzled, she placed one hand on the cool moonstone. The magic that hummed from the globe was Zephyr's signature enchantment familiar, but subtly changed.
She carefully opened the magical pathway. A face appeared in the globe-a misty face, gray as a Crinti's and without form or feature. The wizard could have been old or young, male or female, elf or orc. But Kiva had spent long years collecting scrying devices and researching their properties. She cast a counterspell and watched as the mist peeled back to discern the true form of her "visitor." Reflected in the glove was the face of a human male with sharp black eyes and a scimitar nose.
Her throat tightened with dread as she recognized Procopio Septus, the wizard who had employed Zephyr. If