The Rogues Series 02 - The Black Bouquet by Forgotten Realms

Author:Forgotten Realms [Forgotten Realms]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-01-08T17:47:46+00:00

Miri woke feeling sore, yet drowsily contented. Judging from the warm covers and medicinal smells, her comrades had carried her to the healers' tent, and she was going to be all right. She could feel it, and in any case, the important thing was that she hadn't disgraced herself.

Standing behind the bramble barricades with the senior rangers and their allies, waiting for her first battle to begin, she'd been frightened she wouldn't be able to bear it, that she'd throw down her bow and run away. And when the enemy—orcs, ogres, and huge, shapeless, crawling masses of mold—appeared among the trees, it was as terrifying as she'd imagined. But somehow she'd stood her ground, loosing arrow after arrow until the foe overran her position, then frantically hacking with her broadsword. She cut down two orcs, turned, and saw an ogre swinging its club at her. The world went dark.

Evidently her side had won the fight. Otherwise, she wouldn't be lying in a clean, soft bed. She realized her throat was dry, opened her eyes fully, and looked about to see if one of the priests had left her some water.

She wasn't in a tent but a small, sparsely furnished candlelit room with bare whitewashed walls. A thin young man with a red beard sat watching her. The sight of him made her snatch for the sword that no longer hung at her side, even as it pierced her confusion.

It wasn't an ogre that had wounded her—that had happened years ago, in the Winterwood—it was a collapsing balcony in Oeble, after which, what? Had Aeron sar Randal found her and decided to make her his prisoner?

As if by magic, a long, heavy fighting knife appeared in the thief's hand.

"Calm down!" he said. "I don't mean to hurt you. If I had, I wouldn't have carried you to Ilmater's house for healing."

She sneered and replied, "Yet you pull a dagger on me, even though I'm injured and unarmed."

"According to the healer who attended you, you're only a little bit hurt at this point." He smiled crookedly and added, "Besides, this afternoon I found out just how tough an unarmed outlander woman could be."

"You met Sefris."

"I did if she shaves her head and moves like... I don't know what. A cat? lightning? Flowing water? Whatever you liken it to, it was scary."

"That's her."

"Who in the Nine Hells is she? How do you know her?"

"How do you? What happened?"

"I'm the one with the knife," said Aeron, "so I'm going to ask the questions."

She glanced surreptitiously around. Her weapons were nowhere in evidence, nor was there anything much she could grab and use for self-defense. Even the pewter candlestick was out of reach. Still, perhaps her plight wasn't all that desperate.

"If this truly is a house of healing," she said, "all I need do is shout, and someone will rush to my aid."

"Faster than I can stick an Arthyn fang between your ribs?" he countered. "Don't count on it."

"Are you ruthless enough? I don't see it in your eyes.

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