Robert Salvatore - The Spine of the World

"Of the agony?" Wulfgar echoed hollowly. "Old man, you know nothing of agony."

"We shall see," Temigast growled, and he turned away, leaving Wulfgar along in the dark. . until Errtu returned to him, as the demon always did.

*****

Morik rode as fast as his horse would take him, for as long as the poor beast would last. He crossed along the same road where he and Wulfgar had encountered the carriage, past the same spot where Wulfgar had overturned the thing.

He came into Auckney late one afternoon to the stares of many peasants. "Pray tell me the name of your lord, good sir," he called to one, accentuating his request with a tossed gold piece.

"Lord Feringal Auck," the man supplied quickly. "He lives with his new bride in Castle Auck, there," he finished, pointing a gnarly finger toward the coast.

"Many thanks!" Morik bowed his head, tossed another couple of silver coins, then kicked his horse's flanks, trotting down the last few hundred yards of road to the small bridge leading to Castle Auck. He found the gate open with a pair of bored-looking guards standing to either side.

"I am Lord Brandeburg of Waterdeep," he said to them, bringing his steed to a stop. "Pray announce me to your lord, for I've a long road behind me and a longer one ahead."

With that, the rogue dismounted and brushed off his fine pantaloons, going so far as to draw his slender sword from his belt, wiping clean the blade as he brought it forth, then launching into a sudden, dazzling display of swordsmanship before replacing it on his hip. He had impressed them, he realized, as one ran off for the castle and the other moved to tend his horse.

Within the span of a few minutes, Morik, Lord Brandeburg, stood before Lord Feringal in the audience hall of Castle Auck, He dipped a low bow and introduced himself as a traveler who had lost his companions to a band of giants in the Spine of the World. He could see from Feringal's eyes that the minor nobleman was thrilled and proud to be visited by a lord of the great city of Waterdeep and would drop his guard in his efforts to please.

"I believe that one or two of my friends escaped," Morik finished his tale, "though on my word not a giant can say the same."

"How far away was this?" asked Lord Feringal. The man seemed somewhat distracted, but Morik's tale obviously alarmed him.

"Many miles, my lord," Morik supplied, "and no threat to your quiet kingdom. As I said, the giants are all dead." He looked around and smiled. "A pity it would be for such monsters to descend on such a quiet and safe place as this."

Lord Feringal took the bait. "Not so quiet, and not so safe," he growled through clenched teeth.

"Danger, here?" he said incredulously. "Pirates, perhaps?" Morik appeared surprised and looked to the old steward standing beside the throne. The man shook his head imperceptively, which Morik took to mean he should not press the issue, but that was exactly the point.

"Highwaymen," Lord Feringal snarled.

Morik started to respond but held his tongue, and his breath, as a woman whom Morik surely recognized entered the room.

"My wife," Lord Feringal introduced her distractedly. "Lady Meralda Auck."

Morik bowed low, took her hand in his, and lifted it to his lips, pointedly staring her right in the eyes as he did. To his ultimate relief, and pride at his own clever disguise, he detected no flicker of recognition there.

"A most beautiful wife," Morik stated. "You have my envy, Lord Feringal."

That brought a smile at last to Feringal's face, but it quickly turned into a frown. "My wife was in the coach attacked by these highwaymen."

Morik gasped. "I would find them, Lord Feringal," he saw "Find them and slay them on the road. Or bring them back to you, if you would prefer."

Lord Feringal waved his hands, quieting the man. "I have the one I desire," he said. "The other was buried under a rock-slide."

Morik's lips pursed at the painful thought. "A fitting fate," he said.

"More fitting is the fate I have planned for the captured barbarian," Feringal grimly replied. "A most horrible death, I assure you. You may witness it if you will stay in Auckney for the night."

"Of course, I shall," Morik said. "What have you planned for the scoundrel?"

"First, castration," Lord Feringal explained. "The barbarian will be killed properly two mornings hence."

Morik assumed a pensive pose. "A barbarian, you say?"

"A huge northerner, yes," Feringal replied.

"Strong of arm?"

"As strong as any man I have ever seen," the lord of Auckney replied. "It took a powerful wizard to bring him to justice, and even that man would have fallen to him had not my guards surrounded him and beat him down."

Morik almost choked over the mention of the wizard, but he held his calm.

"Killing a highwayman is surely an appropriate ending," Morik said, "but perhaps you would be better served in another manner." He waited, watching carefully as Lord Feringal eyed him closely.

"Perhaps I might purchase the man," Morik explained. "I am a man of no small means, I assure you, and could surely use a strong slave at my side as I begin the search for my missing companions."

"Not a chance," Feringal replied rather sharply.

"But if he is familiar with these parts. ." Morik started to reason.

"He is going to die horribly for the harm he brought to my wife," Lord Feringal retorted.

"Ah, yes, my lord," Morik said. "The incident has distressed her."

"The incident has left her with child!" Feringal yelled, grabbing the arms of his chair so forcefully that his knuckles whitened.

"My lord!" the steward cried at the unwise announcement, and Meralda gasped. Morik was glad for their shock, as it covered his own.

Lord Feringal calmed quickly, forcing himself back into his seat and mumbling an apology to Meralda. "Lord Brandeburg, I beg your forgiveness," he said. "You understand my anger."

"I will castrate the dog for you," Morik replied, drawing forth his sword. "I assure you that I am skilled at such arts."

That broke the tension in the room somewhat. Even Lord Feringal managed a smile. "We will take care of the unpleasantries," he replied, "but I would, indeed, enjoy your company at the execution of sentence. Will you stay as my guest for the two days?"

Morik bowed very low. "I am at your service, my lord."

Soon after, Morik was brought to an inn just beyond the castle bridge. He wasn't thrilled to learn that Lord Feringal kept guests outside the castle walls. That would make it all the harder for him to get near Wulfgar. He did learn from the escort, though, that Wulfgar was being kept in a dungeon beneath the castle.

Morik had to get to his friend, and fast, for, given the false accusations placed against Wulfgar, Lord Feringal would surely and horribly kill the man. A daring rescue had never been a part of Morik's plan. Many thieves were sold to adventuring lords, and so he had hoped Lord Feringal would part with this one for a handsome sum-and the lord's own gold, at that-but rapists, particularly men who ravished noblewomen, found only one, horrible fate.

Morik stared out the window of his small room, looking to Castle Auck and the dark waters beyond. He would try to find some way to get to Wulfgar, but he feared he would be returning to Luskan alone.

"Here's your last meal, dog," said one of the two guards standing outside Wulfgar's cell. The man spat on the food and slipped the tray in through the slot.

Wulfgar ignored them and made no move for the food. He could hardly believe that he had escaped execution in Luskan, only to be killed in some nondescript fiefdom. It struck him, then, that perhaps he had earned this. No, he hadn't harmed the woman, of course, but his actions of the last months, since he had left Drizzt and the others in Icewind Dale-since ho had slapped Catti-brie across the face-were not those of a man undeserving of such a grim fate. Hadn't Wulfgar and Drizzt killed monsters for the same crimes that Wulfgar had committed? Had the pair not gone into the Spine of the World in pursuit of a giant band that had been scouting out the trail, obviously planning to waylay merchant wagons? What mercy had they shown the giants? What mercy, then, did Wulfgar deserve?