Robert Salvatore - The Spine of the World

"West, then," the rogue had offered. "There's a small fiefdom squeezed between the mountains and the sea southwest of the Hundelstone pass. Few go there, for it's not on most maps, but the merchants of the northern roads know of it, and sometimes they travel there on their way to and from Ten-Towns. Perhaps we will even meet up with our friend and his lightning wand again."

The possibility didn't thrill Wulfgar, but his refusal to go back into Icewind Dale had really left them only two options. They'd be deeper into the unaccommodating Spine of the World if they went east to the realm of goblins and giants and other nasty, unprofitable monsters. That left south and west, and given their relationship with the authorities of Luskan in the south, west seemed a logical choice.

It appeared as if that choice would prove to be a good one, for the pair watched as a lone wagon, an ornate carriage such as a nobleman might ride, rambled down the road.

"It could be a wizard," Wulfgar reasoned, painfully recalling the lightning bolts he'd suffered.

"I know of no wizards of any repute in this region," Morik replied.

You haven't been in this region for years, Wulfgar reminded him. "Who would dare travel in such an elaborate carriage alone?" he wondered aloud.

"Why not?" Morik countered. "This area south of the mountains sees little trouble, and there are outposts along the way, after all," he added, waving his hand at the distant stone keep. "The people here are not trapped in their homes by threats of goblins."

Wulfgar nodded, but it seemed too easy. He figured that the coach driver must be a veteran fighter, at least. It was likely there would be others inside, and perhaps they held nasty wands or other powerful magical items. One look at Morik, though, told the barbarian that he'd not dissuade his friend. Morik was still smarting from the disaster in the pass. He needed a successful hit.

The road below made a great bend around a mountain spur. Morik and Wulfgar took a more direct route, coming back to the road far ahead of the coach, out of sight of the stone outpost. Wulfgar immediately began laying out his rope, looking for some place he might tie it off. He found one slender tree, but it didn't look promising.

"Just jump in," Morik reasoned, pointing to an overhang. The rogue rushed down to the road, taking out a whip as he went, for the coach appeared, rambling around the southern bend.

"Clear the way!" came Liam Woodgate's call a moment later.

"I must speak with you, good sir!" Morik cried, holding his ground in the middle of the narrow trail. The gnome slowed the coach and brought it to a halt a safe distance from the rogue-and too far, Morik noted, for Wulfgar to make the leap.

"By order of Lord Feringal of Auckney, clear the way," Liam stated.

"I am in need of assistance, sir," Morik explained, watching out of the corner of his eye as Wulfgar scrambled into position, Morik took a step ahead then, but Liam warned him back.

Keep your distance, friend," the gnome said. "I've an errand for my lord, and don't doubt that I'll run you down if you don't move aside."

Morik chuckled. "I think not," he said.

Something in Morik's tone, or perhaps just a movement along the high rocks caught the corner of Liam's eye. Suddenly the gnome understood the imminent danger and spurred his team forward.

Wulfgar leaped out at that moment, but he hit the side of the carriage behind the driver, his momentum and the angle of the rocky trail putting the thing up on two wheels. Inside the coach a woman screamed.

Purely on instinct, Morik brought forth his whip and gave a great crack right in front of the horses. The beasts cut left against the lean, and before the driver could control them, before Wulfgar could brace himself, before the passenger inside could even cry out again, the coach fell over on its side, throwing both the driver and Wulfgar.

Dazed, Wulfgar forced himself to his feet, expecting to be battling the driver or someone else climbing from the coach, but the driver was down among some rocks, groaning, and no sounds came from within the coach. Morik rushed to calm the horses, then leaped atop the coach, scrambling to the door and pulling it open. Another scream came from within.

Wulfgar went to the driver and gently lifted the gnome's head. He set it back down, secure that this one was out of the fight but hoping he wasn't mortally wounded.

"You must see this," Morik called to Wulfgar. He reached into the coach, offering his hand to a beautiful young woman, who promptly backed away. "Come out, or I promise I will join you in there," Morik warned, but still the frightened woman curled away from him.

"Now that is the way true highwaymen score their pleasures," Morik announced to Wulfgar as the big man walked over to join him. "And speaking of pleasures. . " he added, then dropped into the coach.

The woman screamed and flailed at him, but she was no match for the skilled rogue. Soon he had her pinned against the coach's ceiling, which was now a wall, her arms held in place, his knee blocking her from kicking his groin, his lips close to hers. "A kiss for the winner?"

Morik rose suddenly, caught by the collar and hoisted easily out of the coach by a fuming Wulfgar. "You cross a line,"

Wulfgar replied, dropping the rogue on the ground.

"She is fairly caught," Morik argued, not understanding his friend's problem. "We have our way, and we let her go. What's the harm?"

Wulfgar glared at him. "Go tend the driver's wounds," he said. "Then find what treasures you may about the wagon."

"The girl-"

"— does not count as a treasure," Wulfgar growled at him.

Morik threw his hands up in defeat and moved to check on the fallen gnome.

Wulfgar reached into the coach, much as Morik had done, offering his huge paw to the frightened young woman. "Come out," he bade her. "I promise you won't be harmed."

Stunned and sore, the woman dodged his hand.

"We can't turn your wagon upright with you in it," Wulfgar explained reasonably. "Don't you wish to be on your way?"

"I want you to be on your way," the woman snarled.

"And leave you here alone?"

"Better alone than with thieves," Meralda shot back.

"It would be better for your driver if you got out. He'll die if we leave him lying on the rocks," Wulfgar was trying very hard to comfort the woman, or at least frighten her into action. "Come. I'll not hurt you. Rob you, yes, but not hurt you."

She timidly lifted her hand. Wulfgar took hold and easily hoisted her out of the coach. Setting her down, he stared at her for a long moment. Despite a newly forming bruise on the side of her face she was truly a beautiful young woman. He could understand Morik's desire, but he had no intention of forcing himself on any woman, no matter how beautiful, and he certainly wasn't going to let Morik do so.

The two thieves spent a few moments going through the coach, finding, to Morik's delight, a purse of gold. Wulfgar searched about for a log to use as a lever.

"You don't intend to upright the carriage, do you?" Morik asked incredulously.

"Yes, I do," Wulfgar replied.

"You can't do that," the rogue argued. "She'll drive right up to the stone keep and have a host of soldiers pursuing us within the hour."

Wulfgar wasn't listening. He found some large rocks and placed them near the roof of the fallen carriage. With a great tug, he brought the thing off the ground. Seeing no help forthcoming from Morik, he braced himself and managed to free one hand to slide a rock into place under the rim.

The horses snorted and tugged, and Wulfgar almost lost the whole thing right there. "At least go and calm them," he instructed Morik. The rogue made no move. Wulfgar looked to the woman, who ran to the team and steadied them.