"She was alone?" asked the elder.
"No, she was with the dwarf, Mertwig, but it was odd. They seemed to be hiding in the shadows."
"To the fishing boats!" ordered Scowarr, relishing the ring of his commanding baritone. Even more pleasing to him was the reaction of the elves. They did as he said!
"Do you hear something?" Mertwig asked from his perch near his wife's bed.
"Someone's out there," Tanis agreed from the back of the room, hearing the faint sound of a voice on the wind. He turned to Reehsha, who had moved from the bench to the window and pulled aside the fishnets that served as curtains.
"Can you see anything?"
"It's a mob!" the old fisherman replied, visibly startled. "I can't tell how big, but there look to be at least fifty torches lighting the far side of the pier, where the fishing boats are moored."
"What are they doing?" Brandella asked in a whisper. Tanis went to the window to see for himself. He grimaced.
"They seem to have a purpose. It looks like they're looking for something-"
"Or someone," Brandella interrupted, staring down at Kishpa, who lay unaware beside her. One hand continued to stroke the wizard's brow.
'Trouble!" Reehsha suddenly blurted.
"What is it?" Mertwig and Brandella asked together.
'They're coming this way," said Tanis, trying not to alarm the woman who cared so deeply for her mage. Her hand went to her throat.
"They must not know!" she protested. 'They'll lose hope. Don't let them inside!"
"We may not have a choice," said Tanis. Brandella rose and lunged across the room toward the half-elf. She took his hands in hers and squeezed them. Her closeness nearly unnerved him. Kit was a beauty, and Laurana the epitome of young, elven loveliness, but Brandella's very essence was heart-shattering. At her touch, he felt himself go as red as his glowing sword.
"You said he'd recover," she said. "You said he'd live. Think now of all those who will die if Ankatavaka's people panic."
Brandella's skin was as delicate as porcelain above the black shirt and the loose green skirt, both obvious products of her loom. Tanis felt his blushing creep inexorably to his hairline. The young weaver appeared unaware of the effect she was having on him, however.
"There's no place to run," she continued. "A few may survive by taking to the fishing boats, but the rest will be slaughtered if our defenses crumble. I beg you; stall for time! Don't let them know the truth. If the villagers fight, they have a chance. If they run, they'll die. You're a warrior. You know what I say is true."
The woman's beauty was almost more than he could bear. The warmth of her hands, the scent of her hair and skin, the perfection of every feature, all made Tanis's mouth go dry. Yet there was more to her than the appeal of her flesh. There was the same energy and passion that had drawn him to Kitiara. Without, he hoped, the all- too-human yearning for power.
"I will do what I can," Tanis promised.
"You are a worthy man," she said simply, looking up into his blushing face.
He wanted to ask her if he was worthy of her, but he refrained. Nonetheless, he found himself unwilling to let go of her hands. A moment passed. Was it his imagination, or did she seem reluctant to let go, too?
'They're getting closer," Reehsha announced.
Tanis freed her hands. Brandella gave him a shy smile.
A moment later, Tanis opened the door, stepped outside, and with fingers gripping the handle of his sword in its scabbard, he faced the oncoming mob.
15
"Look!" cried an elf, apparently tired of tnomping around in the wet sand near the fishing boats. "There's a light in Reehsha's window!" "Maybe he's seen Brandella and Mertwig," suggested another elf. "Let's go ask him." A murmur of assent went up among the elves, who numbered almost one hundred, and Scowarr was quick to jump out in front of the crowd, shouting, "We won't rest until we find Kishpa!" It wasn't all bravado on Scowarr's part. He enjoyed the role, playing the hero to the hilt, but he also was worried about the mage. After all, Kishpa had saved his life on the seacliff, and the human was not unmindful of his debt. If Kishpa needed rescuing, Scowarr was willing to do his part. He even thought he was capable of it.
The torches blazed, lighting the way across the beach for the anxious elves and their temporary leader. The waves crashed at their feet, reflecting the torches' glow.
When the searchers climbed the rocks toward Reeh- sha's shack, Scowarr felt his legs and arms aching. Exhaustion was catching up with him, but he refused to give in to it. He wanted to be a hero again-and that meant finding Kishpa.
As Scowarr led the crowd toward the shack, the door to the crumbling old building suddenly swung ajar. Golden light illuminated the darkness, and the silhouette of a fighting man, strong and straight, walked into the shimmering aura and waited.
Tanis decided to keep the door to Reehsha's shack open. Closing it behind him would have suggested that he was trying to keep the crowd from entering. Rather, he reasoned, let it appear as if he had nothing to hide from them.
As they got closer, Tanis stared in disbelief at the sight before his eyes. "Is that you, Little Shoulders?" he called out.
"It isn't Huma of the Lance."
There was some appreciative laughter from the elves behind the funny man. Tanis, however, said nothing.
"Well," said Scowarr with gentle sarcasm, "based upon your hearty laughter at my little joke, I now know for certain that the image before my eyes is that of my dear, ever-so-humorless friend, Tanis." At this, the half-elf proffered a small grin.
"Of course, I could be mistaken," Scowarr went on, hope playing on his thin features.
"You were right the first time," said Tanis with a hint of playfulness. Yet when the torches from the mob had come close enough, Scowarr could see the hard expression on the half-elf's face. "I was worried about you," said Scowarr, the elves behind him suddenly quiet and patient. "I haven't seen you since the battle. I feared something had happened to you." "Not to me. You passed out, and I left you with friends. Or should I say admirers?" "Good friends," the funny man said emphatically, waving an arm at the elves crowding close behind him. "So I see," Tanis said. "But what are you all doing here when you should be resting for the battle that is sure to come at daybreak?" "We've come in search of Kishpa," said Scowarr. "If I see him," Tanis said shortly, "I'll tell him." "Where's Reehsha?" demanded someone from the back of the mob. "What are you doing in his house?". "A woman was attacked under the pier," explained Tanis. "A human soldier did it. I brought her here." "Did he kill her?" a shrill voice asked. "No. But she was hurt." "Yes, but where's Reehsha?" insisted the elf at the back of the mob. "I am here," the old fisherman called gruffly from the window. "Now leave us be." "Who is she? Who got hurt?" several curious elves asked at once. Tanis didn't answer them. Instead, he reached out and touched Scowarr's shoulder, noticing the new clothes but saying only, "Remember the dwarven woman who tried to help us at the seacliff?" "Of course… oh… not her?" Tanis nodded. Scowarr wearily rubbed his eyes. "I feel terrible," he said to no one in particular. "Just terrible." "Shell be all right," said Tanis. "What's her name?" someone called out. "Yeblidod," Tanis answered without thinking, and then a moment later realized the enormity of his mistake.
"She's Mertwig's wife!" several elves exclaimed at once.
A stocky elf, holding a torch and standing behind Scowarr, shouted, "This must have been where Mertwig was going with Brandella. And if Brandella is in there, I'll wager Kishpa's there, too!" The elf rushed forward, trying to push past Tanis and into the shack. The half-elf grabbed him, accidentally knocking the burning torch out of the elf's hand. The torch soared over the rocks onto the beach, and the damp sand extinguished it with a sizzle.