"My lady, I am to take you to your home," Liam Woodgate said, leaping down to Meralda's side.
"And so you have," the woman replied. "Close enough."
"But you've a long dark lane before you," the gnome protested. "Steward Temigast'll have my heart in his hand if-"
"He'll never know," Meralda promised. "Don't fear for me. I walk this lane every night and know every bush and rock and person in every house between here and my own."
"But . . ." the gnome began to argue, but Meralda pushed past him, shot him a confident smile, and skipped away into the darkness.
The coach shadowed her for a short while, then, apparently convinced the woman was indeed familiar enough with this area to be safe, Liam turned it around and sped away. The night was chill, but not too cold. Meralda veered from the road, moving to the dark fields higher up. She hoped to find Jaka there, waiting for her as they had arranged, but the place was empty. Alone in the dark, Meralda felt as if she were the only person in all the world. Anxious to forget tonight, to forget Lord Feringal and his wretched sister, she stripped off her gown, needing to be out of the fancy thing. Tonight she had dined as nobility, and other than the food and perhaps the warm drink, she had not been impressed. Not in the least. Wearing only her plain undergarments, the young woman moved about the moonlit field, walking at first, but as thoughts of Jaka Sculi erased the too recent image of Lord Feringal, her step lightened to a skip, then a dance. Meralda reached up to catch a shooting star, spinning to follow its tail, then falling to her rump in the soft grass and mud, laughing all the while and thinking of Jaka.
She didn't know that she was in almost exactly the same spot where Jaka had been earlier that night. The place where Jaka had spat his protests at an unhearing god, where he'd cried out against the injustice of it all, where he'd called for his life to flee, and where he'd vowed to steal Meralda's virginity for no better reason than to ensure that Lord Feringal did not get it.
Chapter 5
INSIDE A TIGHT FRAME
"Where'd you put the durned thing?" a frustrated Arumn Gardpeck asked Josi Puddles the next afternoon. "I know ye took it, so don't be lying to me."
"Be glad that I took it," an unrepentant Josi countered, wagging his finger in Arumn's face.
"Wulfgar would've torn the whole place apart to kindling with that warhammer in his hands."
"Bah, you're a fool, Josi Puddles," Arumn replied. "He'd a left without a fight."
"So ye're saying," Josi retorted. "Ye're always saying such, always taking up the man's cause, though he's been naught but trouble to yerself and to all who been loyal to ye. What good's Wulfgar done for ye, Arumn Gardpeck? What good ever?"
Arumn narrowed his eyes and stared hard at the man.
"And every fight he stopped was one he started," Josi added. "Bah, he's gone, and good enough for him, and good enough for all of us."
"Where'd ye put the warhammer?" Arumn pressed again.
Josi threw up his hands and spun away, but Arumn wouldn't let him go that easily. He grabbed the little man by the shoulder and whipped him about violently. "I asked ye twice already," he said grimly. "Don't ye make me ask again."
"It's gone," Josi replied. "Just gone, and far enough so that Wulfgar couldn't call to the thing."
"Gone?" Arumn echoed. His expression grew sly, for he understood Josi better than to think the man had simply thrown so wondrous a weapon into the ocean. "And how much did ye get for it?"
Josi stuttered a protest, waved his hand and stammered again, which only confirmed Arumn's suspicions. "Ye go get it back, Josi Puddles," the tavernkeeper instructed. Josi's eyes widened. "Cannot-" he started to say, but Arumn grabbed him by the shoulder and the seat of his pants and ushered him along toward the door.
"Go get it back," Arumn said again, no room for debate in his stern tone, "and don't come back to me until ye got the hammer in hand."
"But I cannot," Josi protested. "Not with that crew."
"Then ye're not welcome here anymore," Arumn said, shoving Josi hard through the door and out into the street. "Not at all, Josi Puddles. Ye come back with the hammer, or ye don't come back!" He slammed the door, leaving a stunned Josi out in the street. The skinny man's eyes darted around, as if he expected some thugs to step out and rob him. He had good cause for concern. Arumn's Cutlass was Josi's primary affiliation and, in a sense, his source of protection on the streets. Few bothered with Josi, mostly because he wasn't worth bothering with, but mainly because troubling Josi would shut down all routes to the Cutlass, a favorite place.
Josi had made more than few enemies on the street, and once word spread that he and Arumn had fallen out. . . .
He had to get back in Arumn's favor, but when he considered the necessary task before him, his knees went weak. He had sold Aegis-fang cheaply to a nasty pirate in a wretched drinking hole, a place he visited as rarely as possible. Josi's eyes continued to dart all around, surveying Half-Moon Street and the alleys that would take him to the private and secret drinking hole by the docks. Sheela Kree would not be there yet, he knew. She would be at her ship, Leaping Lady. The name referred to the image of Sheela Kree leaping from her ship to that of her unfortunate victims, bloody saber in hand. Josi shuddered at the thought of meeting her on the very deck where she was known to have tortured dozens of innocent people to horrible deaths. No, he decided, he would wait to meet with her at the drinking hole, a place a bit more public. The little man fished through his pockets. He still had all the gold Sheela had paid him for Aegis-fang and a couple of his own coins as well.
He hardly thought it enough, but with Arumn's friendship at stake, he had to try.
*****
"It's wonderful to be with ye," Delly Curtie said, running her hand over Wulfgar's huge, bare shoulder, which drew a wince from the big man. That shoulder, like every other part of his body, had not escaped the battering at the Cutlass.
Wulfgar muttered something unintelligible and rose from the bed, and while Delly's hands continued to caress him, he continued to ignore the touch.
"Are ye sure ye're wantin' to leave already?" the woman asked in a seductive manner. Wulfgar turned to regard her, stretching languidly on the rumpled bed.
"Yeah, I'm sure," he grumbled as he pulled on his clothes and headed for the door. Delly started to call out after him but bit back her begging. She started to scold him but bit that back, too, understanding the futility of it and knowing that her own harsh words wouldn't cover her hurt. Not this time. She had gone to Wulfgar the previous night, as soon as Arumn closed his doors, which was not long after the fight had scuttled the Cutlass. Delly knew where to find the now homeless man, for Morik kept a room nearby.
How thrilled she had been when Wulfgar had taken her in, despite Morik's protests. She had let her guard back down again, for Delly had spent the night in Wulfgar's arms, fantasizing about escaping her miserable life with the heroic man.
They could run away from Luskan, perhaps, and back to wild Icewind Dale, where she might raise his children as his proper wife.
Of course, the morning-or rather, the early afternoon-had shown her the truth of those fantasies in the form of a grumbling rejection.
She lay on the bed now, feeling empty and alone, helpless and hopeless. Though things between her and Wulfgar had been hurtful of late, the mere fact that the man was still around had allowed her to hold onto her dreams. If Wulfgar wouldn't be around anymore, Delly would be without any chance of escape.
"Did you expect anything different?" came a question from Morik, as if the rogue were reading her mind.
Delly gave him a sad, sour look.
"You must know by now what to expect from that one," Morik reasoned, moving to sit on the bed. Delly started to pull the covers up but remembered that it was just Morik, and he knew well enough what she looked like.
"He will never give you that which you truly desire," Morik added. "Too many burdens clouding his mind, too many remembered agonies. If he opened up to you as you hope, h
e'd likely kill you by mistake."
Delly looked at him as if she didn't understand. Hardly surprised, Morik merely smiled and said again, "He'll not give you that which you truly desire."
"And will Morik then?" Delly asked with open sarcasm.
The rogue laughed at the thought. "Hardly," he admitted, "but at least I tell you that openly. Except for my word, I am no honest man and want no honest woman. My life is my own, and I don't wish to be bothered with a child or a wife."
"Sounds lonely."
"Sounds free," Morik corrected with a laugh. "Ah, Delly," he said, reaching up to run a hand through her hair. "You would find life so much more enjoyable if you basked in present joys without fearing for future ones."
Delly Curtie leaned back against the headboard, considering the words and showing no practical response against them.
Morik took that as a cue and climbed into the bed beside her.
*****
"I'll give you this part, me squeaky little friend, for your offered coins," the rowdy Sheela Kree said, tapping the flat of Aegis-fang's head. She exploded into a violent movement that brought the warhammer arching over her head to smash down on the center of the table separating her from Josi Puddles.
Suddenly, Josi realized with great alarm that there was only empty air between him and the vicious pirate, for the table had collapsed to splinters across the floor. Sheela Kree smiled wickedly and lifted Aegis-fang. With a squeak Josi sprinted for and through the door, out into the wet, salty night air. He heard the explosion behind him, the hurled hammer connecting solidly against the jamb, heard the howls of laughter from the many cutthroats within.
Josi didn't look back. In fact, by the time he stopped running he was leaning against the wall of the Cutlass, wondering how in the Nine Hells he was going to explain the situation to Arumn. He was still gasping to regain a steady breath when he spotted Delly moving fast down the road, her shawl pulled tight around her. She would not normally be returning to the Cutlass so late, for the place was already brimming with patrons, unless she were on an errand from Arumn. Her hands were empty, except for the folds of the shawl, so Josi had little trouble figuring out where she had gone, or at least who she had gone to visit.
As she neared, the little man heard her sobs, which only confirmed that Delly had gone to see Wulfgar and that the barbarian had ripped her heart open a bit wider.
"Are ye all right?" the man asked, moving out to intercept the woman. Delly jumped in surprise, unaware that Josi had been standing there. "What pains ye?" Josi asked softly, moving closer, lifting his hands to pat Delly's shoulders and thinking that he might use this moment of pain and vulnerability to his own gain, to finally bed the woman about whom he had fantasized for years.
Delly, despite her sobs and downcast expression, abruptly pulled away from him. The look she returned was not one of lust, not even of friendship.
"He hurt ye, Delly," Josi remarked quietly and comfortingly. "He hurt ye, and I can help ye feel better."
Delly scoffed openly. "Ye're the one who set it all up, aren't ye now, Josi Puddles?" she accused. "What a happy sot ye are for chasing Wulfgar away." Before Josi could begin to answer, the woman brushed past him and disappeared into the Cutlass, a place where Josi could not follow. He stood out in the empty street, in the dark of night, with no place to go and no friends to speak of. He blamed Wulfgar for all of it. Josi Puddles spent that night wandering the alleyways and drinking holes of the toughest parts of Luskan. He spoke not a word to anyone through the dark hours, but instead, listened carefully, always on the alert in these dangerous parts. To his surprise he heard something important and not threatening. It was an interesting story concerning Morik the Rogue and his large barbarian friend, and a hefty contract to eliminate a certain ship's captain.
Chapter 6
ALTRUISM
"Well, Lord Dohni, I'll bow until my face blackens in the mud," one old peasant geezer said to Dohni Ganderlay in the field the next morning. All the men and gnomes who had gathered about Dohni broke into mocking laughter.
"Should I be tithing you direct now?" asked another. "A bit of this and a bit of that, the feed for the pig and the pig himself?"
"Just the back half of the pig," said the first. "You get to keep the front."
"You keep the part what eats the grain, but not the plump part that holds it for the meal," said a pointy-nosed gnome. "Don't that sound like a nobleman's thinking!" They broke into peals of laughter again. Dohni Ganderlay tried hard, but unsuccessfully, to join in. He understood their mirth, of course. These peasants had little chance of lifting themselves up from the mud they tilled, but now, suddenly and unexpectedly, it appeared as if fortunes might have changed for the Ganderlay family, as if one of their own might climb that impossible ladder.
Dohni could have accepted their teasing, could have joined in wholeheartedly with the laughter, even adding a few witticisms of his own, except lor one uncomfortable fact, one truth that nagged at him all the sleepless night and all that morning: Meralda hadn't wanted to go. If his girl had expressed some feelings, positive feelings, for Lord Feringal, then Dohni would be one of the happiest men in all the northland. He knew the truth of it, and he could not get past his own guilt. Because of it, the teasing bit hard at him that rainy morning in the muddy field, striking at raw nerves his friends couldn't begin to understand.
"So when are you and your family taking residence in the castle, Lord Dohni?" another man asked, moving right in front of Dohni and dipping an awkward bow.
Purely on instinct, before he could even consider the move, Dohni shoved the man's shoulder, sending him sprawling to the mud. He came up laughing, as were all the others.
"Oh, but ain't he acting the part of a nobleman already!" the first old geezer cried. "Down to the mud with us all, or Lord Dohni's to stomp us flat!"
On cue, all the peasant workers fell to their knees in the mud and began genuflecting before Dohni.
Biting back his rage, reminding himself that these were his friends and that they just didn't understand, Dohni Ganderlay shuffled through their ranks and walked away, fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white, teeth gnashing until his jaw hurt, and a stream of mumbled curses spewing forth from his mouth.
*****
"Didn't I feel the fool," Meralda said honestly to Tori, the two girls in their room in the small stone house. Their mother had gone out for the first time in more than two weeks, so eager was she to run and tell her neighbor friends about her daughter's evening with Lord Feringal.
"But you were so beautiful in the gown," Tori argued.
Meralda managed a weak but grateful smile for her sister.
"He couldn't have stopped looking at you, I'm sure," Tori added. From her expression, the young girl seemed to be lost in a dreamland of romantic fantasies.
"Nor could his sister, Lady Priscilla, stop mudding me,"
Meralda replied, using the peasant term for insults.
"Well, she's a fat cow," Tori snapped back, "and your own beauty only reminded her of it." The two girls had a giggle at that, but Meralda's proved short-lived, her frown returning.
"How can you not be smiling?" Tori asked. "He's the lord of Auckney and can give you all that anyone would ever want."
"Can he now?" Meralda came back sarcastically. "Can he give me my freedom? Can he give me my Jaka?"
"Can he give you a kiss?" Tori asked impishly.
"I couldn't stop him on the kiss," Meralda replied, "but he'll get no more, don't you doubt. I'm giving me heart to Jaka and not to any pretty-smelling lord."
Her declaration lost its steam, her voice trailing away to a whisper, as the curtain pulled aside and a raging Dohni Ganderlay stormed into the room. "Leave us," he commanded Tori. When she hesitated, putting a concerned look over her sister, he roared even louder, "Be gone, little pig feeder!"
Tori scrambled from the room and turned to regard her father, but his glare kept her moving out of the house altogether.
/> Dohni Ganderlay dropped that awful scowl over Meralda, and she didn't know what to make of it, for it was no look she was accustomed to seeing stamped on her father's face.
"Da," she began tentatively.
"You let him kiss you?" Dohni Ganderlay retorted, his voice trembling. "And he wanted more?"
"I couldn't stop him," Meralda insisted. "He came at me fast."
"But you wanted to stop him."
"Of course I did!"
The words were barely out of her mouth when Dohni Ganderlay's big, calloused hand came across Meralda's face.
"And you're wanting to give your heart and all your womanly charms to that peasant boy instead, aren't you?" the man roared.
"But, Da-"
Another smack knocked Meralda from the bed, to land on the floor. Dohni Ganderlay, all his frustration pouring out, fell over her, his big, hard hands slapping at her, beating her about the head and shoulders, while he cried out that she was "trampin' " and "whorin' " without a thought for her ma, without a care for the folks who fed and clothed her.
She tried to protest, tried to explain that she loved Jaka and not Lord Feringal, that she hadn't done anything wrong, but her father wasn't hearing anything. He just kept raining blows and curses on her, one after another, until she lay flat on the floor, arms crossed over her head in a futile attempt to protect herself.
The beating stopped as suddenly as it had begun. After a moment, Meralda dared to lift her bruised face from the floor and slowly turn about to regard her father. Dohni Ganderlay sat on the bed, head in his hands, weeping openly. Meralda had never seen him this way before. She came up to him slowly, calmly, whispering to him that it was all right. A sudden anger replaced his tears, and he grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her up straight.
"Now you hear me, girl," he said through clamped teeth, "and hear me good. It's not yours to choose. Not at all. You'll give Lord Feringal all that he's wanting and more, and with a happy smile on your face. Your ma's close to dying, foolish girl, and Lord Feringal alone can save her. I'll not have her die, not for your selfishness." He gave her a rough shake and let her go. She stared at him as if he were some stranger, and that, perhaps, was the most painful thing of all to frustrated Dohni Ganderlay.
Drizzt - 12 - The Spine of the World Page 9
