The Lost Library of Cormanthyr (13 page)

BOOK: The Lost Library of Cormanthyr
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“Yes,” the baelnorn agreed, “and you scurry around Folgrim Shallowsoul’s feet like a sniveling lapdog. And you call yourself a warrior of the drow race. Hah!”

Anger threaded through Krystarn. If not for her training to prefer treachery and duplicity over face-to-face confrontation, she would have struck the baelnorn with her morning star. “You talk brave words, ghost. Is this your true form, or do you taunt me from a projection of yourself?”

“I should tell you?” The baelnorn grinned and shook his head. “Better that I should wear at you like the conscience that you do not possess.”

“Do not wear too heavily, ghost. If you try my patience too hard, it may be that I find it necessary to track you down to your lair and destroy you.” Krystarn gave the baelnorn a harsh look. “Or maybe you’ve lived so long down here that you no longer remember that it is possible to die a true death?”

“I would never fear a drow.” The baelnorn curled his lip at the thought.

“That is your choice, foul creature,” Krystarn said. “But in the year and a half that I have known of you, I find it interesting that you have never given me your name. Perhaps this is because I will find out who you are, and where you hide.”

“Finding me would only bring you your death, heartless wench.”

“I would find death, true, but that would only send me on my way to the Spider Queen. If you were to die, where would you go? You’ve already turned down the elven afterlife as your people see it.”

The baelnorn remained silent.

“And what of the precious treasures of the house you yet guard?” Krystarn taunted. “I have seen you fret and worry because of the wights and skeletons that roam these tunnels who might discover your secrets. Can you imagine the hands of a drow going through those treasures?”

A pained look flashed through the baelnorn’s eyes.

“I also promise you this, ghost,” Krystarn said, stepping closer to the baelnorn and drawing her remaining magic energies into a tight weave around her, “that any of those treasures that I find lacking, I’ll scatter above the ground in the ruins of Myth Drannor for any wandering band of adventurers to find. Each located far enough apart to guarantee that they’ll be found by separate groups. Your house, should they ever realize that you have failed in your assigned task to keep their legacy intact for a time when they could return from Evermeet and safely claim it, would take lifetimes tracking them all down again. And it would be your fault.”

“You have no honor.”

“Honor,” the drow said, “is merely one of the weaknesses I do not have. Thank you. I had not expected a compliment from someone such as you so early this morning.”

“I will relish the day that Folgrim Shallowsoul turns on you, witch.” The baelnorn turned and walked into the solid wall of rock beside it, vanishing without a trace.

Krystarn cursed the baelnorn and turned back to watch the hobgoblins below. None of the creatures had heard the exchange between her and the elven crypt guardian. An idea formed as she looked at the hobgoblins. Servants within the confines of the subterranean world were lacking. Especially ones that Shallowsoul did not know of.

Marshaling her strength, she stood up, making herself visible to the hobgoblins fifty feet below.

The females and the children scattered, taking the bedrolls and supplies from the illumination of the cookfire. With her drow vision, Krystarn could still see them all clearly.

“Beware, drow!” a hobgoblin male challenged. The dark gray hair covering the exposed parts of its body bristled. Its blue nose wrinkled in distaste, pulling at a ragged wound along its right temple. The naked length of a short sword reflected firelight in its right hand, and a coiled whip shook loose in its left, black leather slithering across the rock. “This place is claimed by the Sumalich Tribe!”

Krystarn almost laughed at the petty arrogance of the hobgoblin. “Who are you to address me in such a threatening manner?”

The hobgoblin stretched to its full height of nearly seven feet, taking a deep breath to throw out its chest. “I am Chomack, Taker of Dragon’s Teeth, chief of the Sumalich!” Another hobgoblin male trotted over to stand beside him, holding the tribe’s standard, a hand holding a spear thrust through a skull on a field of red and jet. “Taker of Dragon’s Teeth?” Krystarn said in obvious disbelief. “Were the dragons then asleep when you took them? Or were they through with those teeth? Maybe these were truly old dragons who kept them in a pot by their bed.”

Chomack howled in rage. He gestured to a pair of his warriors. They nocked arrows to bows and fired without hesitation.

The shafts sped true. Before they covered half the distance, though, Krystarn unleashed her magic. A double-forked lightning bolt licked out and burned the arrows from the air in a blaze of white fire. The bolt continued across the cavern till it struck the other side, then doubled around and came back.

Krystarn stood her ground. With her drow vision, she knew the breadth of the cavern and she’d chosen the effect the rebounding would have. She opened her hand as the lightning bolt traveled back toward her. The gale winds that accompanied the electric energy swept around her, stirring up dust devils that held glinting bits of rock.

The lightning bolt faded to nothing less than five paces from her open palm. The drow looked down at the hobgoblin tribe and appreciated the way they had thrown themselves down to the ground. Only Chomack and a handful of his more seasoned warriors remained standing.

“Sorceress,” several of the hobgoblins whispered. The children cried out in fear.

Krystarn stepped forward, over the edge of the sheer ridge, and stood on empty air looking down at the hobgoblin tribe. “Know me, Chomack, and fear me, for I hold your life in my hands!” She made a fist. Allowing herself to descend within the semi-circle of fearful hobgoblins, she touched down lightly in front of the tribal chieftain. “I am Krystarn Fellhammer of the House Ta’Lon’t, loyal servant of Lloth, the Spider Queen!”

A snarl rippled across Chomack’s face, exposing his yellow teeth. “Kill me if you can, sorceress. I call no one master!” The tribal chieftain leaped at the drow, slashing with his short sword.

Krystarn met his attack with a warrior’s skill. She parried the short sword with her morning star. Sparks flared as the weapons crashed together. Chomack dropped back into a crouch, then cracked his whip at her.

Metal glinted at the tip of the leather braid as it flashed at her face.

Whirling, Krystarn avoided the whip. She advanced again, swinging the morning star. The hobgoblin chieftain blocked her blow, then launched a kick at her face. Expecting such a move, the drow caught her opponent’s foot and twisted.

Howling in rage and pain, Chomack threw himself up and back, flipping himself over in a show of skill and dexterity. He landed on his feet and prepared to attack yet again.

“Hold, Chieftain of the Sumalich Tribe!” Krystarn commanded. “I would not take your life if I could spare it!”

The hobgoblin chieftain halted, wariness in his eyes. “I have to keep my honor.”

“Then keep your honor, Chomack, Taker of Dragon’s Teeth.”

Krystarn hung her morning star at her side from a leather loop. The hobgoblin chieftain’s attack had been fierce and exhausted her still further. She longed to be in bed in the suite of rooms she’d claimed for herself in the underground ruins Shallowsoul managed. “I am here neither to take your life nor your honor. You challenged me justly.” That behavior was a fatal character flaw the drow would never allow herself. “Instead, I would seek to make an alliance between us.”

“I need no alliance,” the tribal chieftain declared.

“You have a small tribe at present, and you are in uncertain lands,” Krystarn pointed out.

“We have met foul beasts and ill magic in this place,” Chomack said. “We have triumphed with our skill and bravery.”

“So far. Yet how many have you lost in your wanderings through these caverns?”

Chomack did not answer, but some of the hobgoblins shifted around him uneasily. The drow’s words had struck a chord of concern.

“You are here to seek your fortune,” Krystarn said. “You do not have to tell me this because I can see by the packs your women and children carry. You have been busy accumulating wealth.”

“I will raise an army,” Chomack said. “With the treasure from these dead-elf pits, I will find an outlaw trader and buy more weapons. New weapons that are made of polished steel to fire the heart of any hobgoblin who call himself a warrior. When others hear of what I have, they will flock to my tribe.”

“You are ambitious,” Krystarn said. “What will you do with this army when you gather it?”

“There is an accounting of vengeance that must be made against the Ulnathr Tribe. They attacked our tribe from behind while we battled a band of troglodytes that had moved into our homeland and started eating us. Caught between the troglodytes and the Ulnathr Tribe, most of us were left for dead. We traveled deeper into these ruins. The coward-chieftain of the Ulnathr will not come here because of the wild magic.”

“I can help you,” Krystarn said.

The hobgoblin chieftain glanced at her suspiciously. “How?”

The drow opened her bag of holding and reached inside. When she drew out her hand, she opened it to show the jewels inside. “Here.”

Hesitantly, Chomack held out his hand. Krystarn dumped the handful of diamonds, sapphires, rubies, and emeralds into the hobgoblin chieftain’s palm. “Let this be a token of my interest in your success.”

“This is much,” Chomack said.

“Only a small fortune,” the drow replied, “against the measure of my interests. I have been lucky in my life, Lloth be praised.”

The hobgoblin chieftain passed the gems back to a subchieftain, who made them quickly disappear. “Why would you care about my cause?”

“I am not interested in furthering your cause,” Krystarn answered honestly. “However, I am investing on a return against my good will.”

“Huh?” Chomack asked suspiciously.

“As a down payment for the use of your sword arms at a time when I would need it.” Krystarn felt a glow of satisfaction when the hobgoblin chieftain didn’t immediately turn her offer down. The tribe was indeed in dire straits if they were delving into the ruins of Myth Drannor. She also knew that agreeing to a bargain with a drow was not something Chomack would want to do under normal circumstances. Shallowsoul did not control everything that happened in the ruins.

“When?”

“When I should so declare it.” Having a small, well-equipped army within the caverns might prove beneficial, the drow knew. For the first time in the four years of her sacrifice to Lloth, she felt as if she might soon be freed.

“I will not throw away my life or my tribe,” the hobgoblin chieftain warned.

“Nor would I have you do so. I do not fight battles to let the gods decide. If I ask you to fight for me, it will be to win, not to lose.”

“And if we do?”

“There will be more gems and treasures for you to add to your coffers. I find vengeance a powerful motivation. I can see in your eyes that nothing less than blood-letting will sate yours. In that, we understand each other.”

Chomack took a step back and swung his hard gaze on his tribespeople. None of them had moved any closer to the drow, nor had any of their weapons been lowered. “When I speak my answer to this sorceress, I speak for all of us. I want this to be understood. Any who would oppose me later will oppose me now.”

Quiet murmurs and nods of assent spread around the half-circle of hobgoblins.

Chomack turned back to face the drow. “I agree to your terms, Krystarn Fellhammer. We shall give you our sword arms when you need them, and you will give us four gems for every gem you have already given us.”

Irritation stung the drow. It wasn’t that the amount was so much, she had managed to gather several times that much in gems and coins and other items in the years she had been with Shallowsoul, but the humanoid’s greed offended her. Having the hobgoblin push the bargain so hard only meant he believed he had her at a disadvantage. She did not want him thinking that. “You are greedy,” she said quietly.

“I thought your Lloth invented greed,” Chomack said.

“Careful that your tongue does not commit a sacrilege that I cannot abide,” Krystarn warned.

“I meant no offense, sorceress, but I’ve heard of the Spider Queen. Lloth, it is said, weaves webs of betrayals, treacheries, and deceits, and gives them all power by the driving force of greed.”

‘You misinterpret,” Krystarn said.

“I don’t know what that means, but maybe I was lied to once,” the hobgoblin said. “I meant only to flatter, and for understanding. After all, I seek a way to achieve my vengeance, not half a way. That is why I must ask for what I ask for.”

Krystarn smiled, thinking that Chomack acquitted himself very well in the negotiations. Perhaps the hobgoblin chieftain was destined for better things. “Very well, Taker of Dragon’s Teeth. You shall have the amount you ask for, but only upon successful completion of the task you undertake for me.”

“I have only one more question to ask, sorceress.”

“What?”

“How do you know that you can trust me?”

Krystarn walked toward the hobgoblin chieftain. She felt powerful, the way a drow female was supposed to feel, the way Lloth had bred them to be. “I can trust you, Chomack, because as a hobgoblin you are not quite the antithesis of a human, as is such a wide-spread belief. Many of the same values they have, you and yours try to emulate, to bring you on equal footing with them.”

Chomack started to disagree.

“Hold your tongue and hear me out,” Krystarn ordered. “You are what you are, but you channel and direct yourself. It is not a bad thing. But you asked a question and I am answering it to the best of my ability. Your people live in a military fashion, and the basis of that lifestyle is order and honor.” Neither of which, the drow admitted to herself, did she want in her own life.

“I have been told, sorceress, that honor means nothing to the drow.”

“Indeed it does not,” Krystarn replied. “But we understand how binding it can be on other species that prize it. I know you will bind yourself because of it.”

BOOK: The Lost Library of Cormanthyr
11.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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