Legacy of The Drow by Salvatore R.A

Author:Salvatore, R.A. [R.A., Salvatore,]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2010-08-06T14:28:57.241000+00:00

Blood was caked on one cheek, and her hair was matted to her head. Bruenor

then saw only Catti-brie's eyes, doelike orbs of deepest blue, glistening with moisture.

Bruenor slowly shook his head.

Catti-brie fell back to a sitting position, her bleeding hands limp in her lap, her eyes

unblinking. How many times had she and her friends come so close to this final point?

she wondered. How many times had they escaped Death's greedy clutches at the last

instant?

The odds had caught up to them, had caught up to Wulfgar, here and now, suddenly,

without warning.

Gone was the mighty fighter, leader of his tribe, the man Catti-brie had intended to

marry. She, Bruenor, even mighty Drizzt Do'Urden, could do nothing to help him,

nothing to change what had happened.

"He saved me," the young woman whispered. Bruenor seemed not to hear her. The

dwarf continually wiped at the dust in his eyes, at the dust that collected in the large

teardrops that gathered and then slipped down, streaking his dirty cheeks. Wulfgar had

been like a son to Bruenor. The tough dwarf had taken the young Wulfgar- just a boy

back then-into his home after a battle, ostensi bly as a slave but in truth to teach the lad a

better way. Bruenor had molded Wulfgar into a man who could be trusted, a man of

honest character. The happiest day in the dwarf's life, even happier than the day Bruenor

had reclaimed Mithril Hall, was the day Wulfgar and Catti-brie had announced they

would wed.

Bruenor kicked a heavy stone, the force of his blow shift ing it aside.

There lay Aegis-fang.

The brave dwarf's knees went weak at the sight of the marvelous warhammer's head,

etched with the symbols of Dumathoin, a dwarven god, the Keeper of Secrets Under the

Mountain. Bruenor forced deep breaths into his lungs and tried to steady himself for a

long while before he could manage the strength to reach down and work the hammer free

of the rubble.

It had been Bruenor's greatest creation, the epitome of his considerable smithing

abilities. He had put all of his love and skill into forging the hammer; he had made it for

Wulfgar.

Catti-brie's semistoic front collapsed like the ceiling at the sight of the weapon.

Quiet sobs made her shoulders bob, and she trembled, seeming frail in the dim, dusty

light.

Bruenor found his own strength in watching her display. He reminded himself that

he was the Eighth King of Mithril Hall, that he was responsible for his subjects-and for

his daughter. He slipped the precious warhammer into the strap of his traveling pack and

hooked an arm under Catti-brie's shoulder, hoisting her to her feet.

"We can't do a thing for the boy," Bruenor whispered. Catti-brie pulled away from

him and moved back to the pile, growling as she tossed several smaller stones aside. She

could see the futility of it all, could see the tons of dirt and stones, many of them too large

to be moved, filling the alcove. But Catti-brie dug anyway, simply incapable of giving up

on the barbarian. No other apparent course offered any hope.

Bruenor's hands gently closed about her upper arms.

With a snarl, the young woman shrugged him away and resumed her work.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.