Robert Salvatore: The Spine of the World

Feringal stood staring at Wulfgar and the baby for a long moment. "If you ever come back. ." he started to say.

"Why would I?" the barbarian interrupted. "I have my child now, and she will grow up to be a queen in Icewind Dale. Entertain no thoughts of coming after me, Lord Feringal, to the ruin of all your world."

"Why would I?" Feringal returned in the same grim tone, facing up to Wulfgar boldly. "I have my wife, my beautiful wife. My innocent wife, who gives herself to me willingly. I do not have to force myself upon her."

That last statement, a recapture of some measure of manly pride, told Wulfgar that Feringal had forgiven Meralda, or that he soon enough would. Wulfgar's desperate, unconsidered and purely improvised plan had somehow, miraculously, worked. He bit back any semblance of a chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all, let Feringal have his needed moment. He didn't even blink as the lord of Auckney composed himself, squared his shoulders, and walked back across the bridge through the lowered gate to his home and his wife.

Steward Temigast handed the reins to the pair. "She isn't yours," the steward said unexpectedly. Starting to pull himself and the babe up into the saddle, Wulfgar pretended not to hear him.

"Fear not, for I'll not tell, nor will Meralda, whose life you have truly saved this day," the steward went on. "You are a fine man, Wulfgar, son of Beornegar, of the Tribe of the Elk of Icewind Dale." Wulfgar blinked in amazement, both at the compliment and at the simple fact that the man knew so much of him.

"The wizard who caught you told him," Morik reasoned. "I hate wizards."

"There will be no pursuit," said Temigast. "On my word."

And that word held true, for Morik and Wulfgar rode without incident back to the overhang, where they retrieved their own horses, then continued down the east road and out of Auckney for good.

"What is it?" Wulfgar asked Morik later that night, seeing the rogue's amused expression. They were huddled about a blazing fire, keeping the child warm. Morik smiled and held up a pair of bottles, one with warm goat's milk for the child, the other with their favored potent drink. Wulfgar took the one with the goat's milk.

"I will never understand you, my friend," Morik remarked.

Wulfgar smiled, but did not respond. Morik could never truly know of Wulfgar's past, of the good times with Drizzt and the others, and of the very worst times with Errtu and the offspring of his stolen seed.

"There are easier ways to make gold," Morik remarked, and that brought Wulfgar's steely gaze over him. "You mean to sell the child, of course," Morik reasoned.

Wulfgar scoffed.

"A fine price," Morik argued, taking a healthy swig from the bottle.

"Not fine enough," said Wulfgar, turning back to the babe. The little girl wriggled and cooed.

"You cannot plan to keep her!" Morik argued. "What place has she with us? With you, wherever you plan to go? Have you lost all sensibility?"

Scowling, Wulfgar spun on him, slapped the bottle from his hands, then shoved him back to the ground, as determined an answer as Morik the Rogue had ever heard.

"She's not even yours!" Morik reminded him.

The rogue could not have been more wrong.

Morik looked at Wulfgar's disguise one more time and sighed helplessly. There was only so much one could do to change the appearance of a nearly seven-foot-tall, three hundred pound, blond-haired barbarian.

Wulfgar was clean shaven again for the first time since his return from the Abyss. Morik had taught him to walk in a way that would somewhat lessen his height, with shoulders drooped but arms crooked so that they did not hang to his knees. Also, Morik had procured a large brown robe such as a priest might wear, with a bunched collar that allowed Wulfgar to scrunch down his neck without being obvious about it.

Still, the rogue was not entirely happy with the disguise, not when so much was riding on it. "You should wait out here," he offered, for perhaps the tenth time since Wulfgar had told him his wishes.

"No," Wulfgar said evenly. "They would not come at your word alone. This is something I must do."

"Get us both killed?" the rogue asked sarcastically.

"Lead on," Wulfgar said, ignoring him. When Morik tried to argue, the barbarian slapped a hand over the smaller man's mouth and turned him around to face the distant city gate.

With one last sigh and a shake of his head, Morik led the way back into Luskan. To the great relief of both of them, for Wulfgar surely did not wish to be discovered while carrying the baby, they were not recognized, were not detained at all, but merely strode into the city where the spring festival was on in full.

They had come in late in the day by design. Wulfgar went straight to Half-Moon Street, arriving at the Cutlass as one of the evening's first patrons. He moved to the bar, right beside Josi Puddles.

"What're ye drinking?" Arumn Gardpeck asked, but the question caught in his throat and his eyes went wide as he looked more carefully at the big man. "Wulfgar," he gasped.

Behind the barbarian a tray dropped, and Wulfgar turned to see Delly Curtie standing there, stunned. Josi Puddles gave a squeal and leaned away.

"Well met, Arumn," Wulfgar said to the tavernkeeper. "I drink only water."

"What're ye doing here?" the tavernkeeper gasped, suspicious and more than a little fearful.

Josi hopped off his stool and started for the door, but Wulfgar caught him by the arm and held him in place. "I came to apologize," the barbarian offered. "To you, and to you," he added, turning to Josi.

"Ye tried to kill me," Josi sputtered.

"I was blind with anger, and likely drink," Wulfgar replied.

"He took yer hammer," Arumn reminded.

"Out of rightful fear that I would use it against you," the barbarian answered. "He acted as a friend, which is much more than I can say for Wulfgar."

Arumn shook his head, hardly believing any of this. Wulfgar released Josi, but the man made no move to continue for the door, just stood there, dumbfounded.

"You took me in, gave me food, a paying job, and friendship when I needed it most," Wulfgar continued to Arumn alone. "I wronged you, terribly so, and can only hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me."

"Are ye looking to live here again?" Arumn asked.

Wulfgar smiled sadly and shook his head. "I risk my life by even entering the city," he replied. "I'll be gone within the hour, but I had to come, to apologize to you two, and mostly," he turned about, facing Delly, "to you."

Delly Curtie blanched as Wulfgar approached, as if she didn't know how to react to the man's words, to the mere sight of him again.

"I am most humbly sorry for any pain that I ever caused you, Delly," he said. "You were as true a friend as any man could ever have desired.

"More than a friend," Wulfgar quickly added, seeing her frown.

Delly eyed the bundle in his arms. "Ye've a little one," the woman said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Mine by chance and not by heritage," Wulfgar replied. He handed the little girl over to her. Delly took her, smiling tenderly, playing with the child's fingers and bringing a smile to that innocent little face.

"I wish ye might be stayin' again," Arumn offered, and he sounded sincere, though Josi's eyes widened in doubt at the mere mention.

"I cannot," Wulfgar replied. Smiling at Delly, he leaned over and took the babe back, then kissed Delly on the forehead. "I pray you find all the happiness you deserve, Delly Curtie," he said, and with a look and a nod at Arumn and Josi, he started for the door.

Delly, too, looked hard at Arumn, so much her father. The man understood and nodded once again. She caught up to Wulfgar before he reached the exit.