Robert Salvatore: The Spine of the World

"Take me with ye," she said, her eyes sparkling with hope-something few had seen from the woman in a long, long time.

Wulfgar looked puzzled. "I did not return to rescue you," he explained.

"Rescue?" Delly echoed incredulously. "I'm not needin' yer rescue, thank ye very much, but you're needin' help with the little one, I can see. I'm good with tykes-spent most o' me young life raisin' me brothers and sisters-and I've grown more than a bit bored with me life here."

"I don't know where my road shall lead," Wulfgar argued.

"Safe enough, I'm guessing," Delly replied. "Since ye've the little one to care for, I mean."

"Waterdeep, perhaps," said Wulfgar.

"A place I've always wanted to see," she said, her smile growing with every word, for it seemed obvious that Wulfgar was becoming more than a little intrigued by her offer.

The barbarian looked curiously to Arumn, and the tavernkeeper nodded his head yet again. Even from that distance Wulfgar could see a bit of moisture rimming the man's eyes.

He gave the child back to Delly, bade her wait there, and moved back to the bar with Arumn and Josi. "I'll not hurt her ever again," Wulfgar promised Arumn.

"If ye do, I'll hunt ye down and kill ye," Josi growled.

Wulfgar and Arumn looked at the man, Arumn doubtfully, but Wulfgar working hard to keep his expression serious. "I know that, Josi Puddles," he replied without sarcasm, "and your wrath is something I would truly fear."

When he got past his own surprise, Josi puffed up his little chest with pride. Wulfgar and Arumn exchanged stares.

"No drinking?" Arumn asked.

Wulfgar shook his head. "I needed the bottle to hide in," he answered honestly, "but I have learned it to be worse than what haunts me."

"And if ye get bored with the girl?"

"I didn't come here for Delly Curtie," Wulfgar replied. "Only to apologize. I didn't think she would accept my apology so completely, but glad I am that she did. We'll find a good road to travel, and I'll protect her as best I can, from myself most of all."

"See that ye do," Arumn replied. "I'll expect ye back."

Wulfgar shook Arumn's hand, patted Josi on the shoulder, and moved to take Delly's arm, leading her out of the Cutlass. Together they walked away from a significant part of their lives.

*****

Lord Feringal and Meralda walked along the garden, hand in hand, enjoying the springtime fragrance and beauty. Wulfgar's ploy had worked. Feringal and all the fiefdom believed Meralda the wronged party again, freeing her from blame and the young lord from ridicule.

Truly the woman felt pain at the loss of her child, but it, like her marriage, seemed well on the mend. She kept telling herself over and over that the babe was with a good and strong man, a better father than Jaka could ever have been. Many were the times Meralda cried for the lost child, but always she repeated her logical litany and remembered that her life, given her mistakes and station by birth, was better by far than she could ever have imagined. Her mother and father were healthy, and Tori visited her every day, bobbing happily among the flowers and proving more of a thorn to Priscilla than Meralda had ever been.

Now the couple was simply enjoying the splendor of spring, the woman adjusting to her new life. Feringal snapped his fingers suddenly and pulled away. Meralda regarded him curiously.

"I have forgotten something," her husband replied. Feringal motioned for her to wait, then ran back into the castle, nearly running down Priscilla, who was coming out the garden door.

Of course, Priscilla still didn't believe any of Wulfgar's tale. She scowled at Meralda, but the younger woman just turned away and moved to the wall, staring out over the waves.

"Watching for your next lover to arrive?" Priscilla muttered under her breath as she moved by. She often launched verbal jabs Meralda's way, and Meralda often just let them slide down her shoulders.

Not this time, though. Meralda stepped in front of her sister-in-law, hands on her hips. "You've never felt an honest emotion in your miserable life, Priscilla Auck, which is why you're so bitter." she said. "Judge me not."

Priscilla's eyes widened with shock and she trembled, unused to being spoken to in such a forward manner. "You ask-"

"I'm not asking you, I'm telling you," Meralda said curtly.

Priscilla stood up and grimaced, then slapped Meralda across the face.

Feeling the sting, Meralda slapped her back harder. "Judge me not, or I'll whisper the truth of your wretchedness into your brother's ear," Meralda warned, so calm and calculating that her words alone made Priscilla's face burn hot. "You can't doubt that I have his ear," Meralda finished. "Have you thought of what a life in the village among the peasants might be like for you?"

Even as she finished her husband bounded back out, a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, flowers for his dear Meralda. Priscilla took one look at her fawning brother, gave a great cry, and ran into the castle.

Feringal watched her go, confused, but so little did he care what Priscilla thought or felt these days that he didn't even bother to ask Meralda about it.

Meralda, too, watched the wretched woman depart. Her smile was wrought from more than delight at her husband's thoughtful present. Much more.

*****

Morik said his farewells to Wulfgar and to Delly, then began at once to reestablish himself on Luskan's streets. He took a room at an inn on Half-Moon Street but spent little time there, for he was out working hard, telling the truth of his identity to those who needed to know, establishing a reputation as a completely different man, Burglar Brandeburg, to those who did not.

By the end of the week many nodded in deference as he passed them on the streets. By the end of the month, the rogue no longer feared retribution from the authorities. He was home again, and soon things would be as they had been before Wulfgar had ever come to Luskan.

He was leaving his room one night with just that in mind when he stepped out of his bedroom door into the inn's upper hallway. Instead he found himself sliding through a dizzying tunnel, coming to rest in a crystalline room whose circular walls gave the appearance of one level in a tower.

Dazed, Morik started to reach for his dagger, but he saw the ebon-skinned forms and changed his mind, wise enough not to resist the dark elves.

"You know me, Morik," said Kimmuriel Oblodra, moving close to the man.

Morik did, indeed, recognize the drow as the messenger who had come to him a year before, bidding him to keep a watch over Wulfgar.

"I give you my friend, Rai-gy," Kimmuriel said politely, indicating the other dark elf in the room, one wearing a sinister expression.

"Did we not ask you to watch over the one named Wulfgar?" Kimmuriel asked.

Morik stuttered, not knowing what to say.

"And have you not failed us?" Kimmuriel went on.

"But. . but that was a year ago," Morik protested. "I have heard nothing since."

"Now you are in hiding, in disguise, knowing your crime against us," said Kimmuriel.

"My supposed crimes are of another matter," Morik stuttered, feeling as if the very walls were tightening around him. "I hide from the Luskan authorities, not from you."

"From them you hide?" said the other drow. "Help you, I can!" He strode over to Morik and lifted his hands. Sheets of flame erupted from his fingertips, burning Morik's face and lighting his hair on fire. The rogue howled and fell to the floor, slapping at his singed skin.

"Now you appear different," Kimmuriel remarked, and both dark elves chuckled wickedly. They dragged him up the tower stairs into another room, where a bald-headed drow holding a great plumed purple hat sat comfortably in a chair.

"My apologies, Morik," he said. "My lieutenants are an excitable lot."