Lisa Smedman - Sacrifice of the Widow

He stepped back behind a tree, out of sight, and settled in to watch, arms folded across his chest.

Even though it was three against one, Leliana put up a good fight, but then a fourth drider pounced on her from above, dropping swiftly out of a cloud of darkness. The priestess smashed it aside with her sword, but one of the other three driders leaped forward and sank its fangs into her thigh, just below the hem of her chain mail. She cried out but didn't immediately fall-possibly she had some magical protection against poison. Then the drider tore its fangs free of her flesh. Blood sprayed from the wound, splashing a tree several paces away. The bite had opened an artery. Leliana crumpled, her face ashen gray.

That was it then. The driders had done the job for Q'arlynd, just as he'd hoped.

Three of the driders levitated away from the body and scurried off into the treetops. The fourth, however, lingered. From behind the tree, Q'arlynd aimed his fur-wrapped rod at the creature and spoke a word, hurling a lightning bolt at it. The drider never saw it coming. The bolt struck the back of its head, blasting it from the creature's body. Spider legs crumpled beneath a smoking corpse.

Q'arlynd thought he heard movement in the woods behind him then. It was difficult to tell, with all of the noise of battle, but a quick glance revealed nothing. He walked toward Leliana, intending to ensure that she was dead. As he stared down at her body, he felt a momentary twinge of an unfamiliar emotion. It was unfortunate, really, that she had to die. Leliana was an attractive female, and he'd enjoyed their verbal sparring matches.

He shook off the feeling. The world was harsh. Leliana had been about to carve Q'arlynd up for the amusement of her goddess. But instead she wouldn't be able to tell the others about the priestess who had died in Ched Nasad. What was done was done.

Or was it? Q'arlynd heard something that sounded like a ragged breath. He glanced down at his feet and saw the priestess's eyelashes flutter. Was Leliana still alive?

He readied a spell, one that would finish her off without leaving too much of a mark, but for some reason, he felt a lingering reluctance to do what must be done. Brutally, he shoved this useless sentiment aside and sighted along his finger at Leliana's chest. A faint haze of magical energy danced at his fingertip.

Behind him, he heard someone shouting Leliana's name. Rowaan. She was practically upon him-close enough that she'd witness whatever he did next. That changed things. Adopting a protective pose over Leliana, Q'arlynd sent the magical bolt into the body of the drider he'd already killed. Then he turned and prostrated himself on the ground.

"There were four of them, Mistress, attacking Leliana," he cried. He gestured at the one he'd blasted with his lightning bolt. "I killed one and drove the others off."

Behind him, Leliana's breath rattled raggedly in and out. In moments she would be dead.

Rowaan barely acknowledged him. She fell to her knees at Leliana's side, a stricken expression on her face. Q'arlynd raised his head slightly, watching. His wand was still in his hand, and he shifted position so that it pointed directly at Rowaan. As soon as an opportunity presented itself, he'd blast her with it.

Rowaan ignored him. She lifted her right hand and brushed her lips against the platinum band on her index finger, whispering something. Then she clenched her hand and closed her eyes.

Q'arlynd knew the moment he'd been waiting for had arrived, but curiosity stayed his hand. A moment later, his eyes widened as Rowaan cried out in anguish. He glanced around, expecting to see a drider, but no attackers were visible. By the time he'd returned his attention to Rowaan, she lay on the ground, her face gray and her breathing shallow and ragged. There was a ragged gash in her thigh, a wound identical to the one that had felled the other priestess, and Leliana, amazingly, was sitting up. There wasn't a mark on her. It was as if the drider attack hadn't even happened.

Rowaan gave one final gurgle then died.

Leliana's first action was to glance at Rowaan and cry out. Her second, upon seeing Q'arlynd staring at her, wand in hand, was to raise her sword.

"Mistress, wait!" he shouted. He pointed at the lightning-blasted drider. "I tried to save your life by killing him. Is this the thanks I get?"

She hesitated. She glanced at the dead drider and slowly lowered her sword. She turned to Rowaan and pressed her fingers against the dead priestess's throat in several places, searching for a life pulse without success. Still ignoring Q'arlynd, she raised her own ring to her lips.

Q'arlynd shook his head. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Those weren't slave rings, they instead seemed to transfer wounds from one person to the next. Rowaan had willingly forfeited her own life to save Leliana, and Leliana was about to attempt the same.

Eilistraee's followers were insane.

Or perhaps there was some other reason for their actions that Q'arlynd didn't know about yet. Perhaps priestesses who died in battle received some boon from their goddess after death. Rowaan might have just snatched that honor from Leliana by dying in her place, and the other priestess wanted to take it back again.

Except that the expression on Leliana's face was not one of anger at having been cheated but of anguish.

Before Q'arlynd could ponder that mystery further, another priestess came rushing through the woods-one of those Q'arlynd had aided earlier. Leliana lowered the hand that wore the ring. Apparently she wanted to continue living, after all.

"Rowaan's been killed!" she cried. "Help her!"

As the priestess set to work, Leliana whirled to face Q'arlynd. "You followed us here. Why?"

"I hoped to prove myself a worthy addition to Eilistraee's forces, Mistress," he said, bowing. He was used to angry females and knew exactly what to say, and his words were no longer constrained by a truth spell. "I thought that by joining the fight, I might atone for… that unfortunate accident in Ched Nasad. I arrived as you were battling the four driders. I managed to kill the one you see here, but the other three escaped. Surely, in light of the assistance I've just rendered, you will reconsider your earlier decision to kill me?"

Leliana blinked. "Kill you? What makes you think-"

A low groan interrupted her. The priestess who had just cast the restorative spell sat back and whispered a prayer of thanks to her goddess.

Rowaan was alive again.

Leliana fell to her knees and embraced her. She touched the ring on Rowaan's finger. "That was bravely done, Rowaan."

Rowaan gave a weak shrug. "No need for thanks." She nodded at the woman who had raised her from death. "I knew Chezzara would be along eventually."

"Even so," Leliana said. "Death weakened you. Your magic will never be as strong."

"You would do the same for me, Mother. I know you would."

Q'arlynd's eyes widened slightly at that. He gave a mental nod. He'd already noted the resemblance between the two priestesses, yet he was surprised to hear that they were mother and daughter. Normally, among the drow, that counted for little. "Blood," as the old expression went, "was only a dagger-thrust deep." Mothers, more often than not, outlived their daughters-the slightest hint of treachery was met with brutal retaliation. But Leliana and Rowaan seemed to share something more than a mere House name: one of those rare bonds of genuine affection.

Elsewhere in the woods, swords clashed and a woman cried Eilistraee's name, reminding them that the battle still raged.

"I'm needed," the priestess who had raised Rowaan said. She pointed at Q'arlynd. "And so is he. Whoever he is, he's a formidable fighter, and it's not just driders we're facing. There's a judicator fighting alongside them."