"Run, girl!" Tanis shouted. "Save yourself!"
She cast him a withering look, one dark brow cocked above a sardonic eye. Then she laughed and slashed the hamstrings of one hobgoblin as Tanis sent an arrow into the breast of the other. The two monsters fell bellowing, and Tanis dropped his bow and finished off the hamstrung hobgoblin with a thrust of his sword. Then he turned to the woman.
Tanis was prepared for any reaction but the one he got. The woman unleashed a string of epithets that would have shriveled the soul of a Caergoth dock-worker. Hatred blazed from her eyes. Tanis had never heard such invective—not, at least, from the mouth of a woman. He froze, hazel eyes wide, and she slammed him with the flat of her sword, sending him
tumbling to the damp earth. His longsword flew out of reach with the unexpectedness of her assault. The half-elf lay immobile atop his quiver, broken arrows strewn around him, as she stood straddling him, laying to the right and left with her sword, chopping plants and snapping sticks with angry motions. Of average height for a human woman, she looked seven feet tall from this angle. And as strong as a minotaur.
While he was but half elf, Tanis was still Qualinesti enough to avoid mortal combat with a woman—even one whose swordplay would put the average man to shame. Although the Qualinesti women were trained in the use of bow and sword, the practice was more ceremonial than practical, and no Qualinesti male really expected to cross weapons with a female of the race. Looking up at the battle-hardened body of his human tormentor, however, Tanis felt his palms grow slick with apprehension. A trickle of perspiration trailed back from his brow and dripped through his rust-red hair. The smell of rotting leaves was thick.
"Idiot! Interferer!" she fumed, decapitating a currant bush. Leaf fragments rained on Tanis. "I had the situation well under control, half-elf!"
"But . . ." Tanis's right hand cast through the slippery leaves and closed on an arrow; any weapon at all would help if this crazed woman lost her tenuous grip on her temper.
Her blade, dripping hobgoblin blood, swept to the right of Tanis's head and whacked off a trista blossom; the blade found its way unerringly to the bare inch of stem below the ground-hugging white blossom. Tanis marveled at her control.
"How dare you spoil my fun?" she spat out.
Tanis tried again. "Fun? It was six against . . ."
The sword blade halted above him, and the half-elf
had the notion that the woman was moments away from plunging the weapon into his ribs. He bit off his protest and tensed, ready to fling himself aside if an attack came.
Tanis probed the darkness for anything he could use to vanquish her. His elvensight, sensitive to heat released from objects, showed little but a half-dozen rapidly cooling hobgoblin corpses, two of which were only a few feet away.
"Eight," the woman corrected at last. "It was eight hobgoblins to one. Near-even odds for me. You missed the two by the river." She paused. "Although I'm sure you heard them." A crooked smile creased her face for the first time, and Tanis felt the deadly moment pass.
"Eight hobgoblins," he echoed, swallowing.
"I'm no amateur, half-elf. I've been a mercenary for over half a decade," she said.
How many enemies, Tanis wondered, had heard those silken tones as their life's blood drained away?
But the voice continued, warming again as to an old injury. "And when the day comes," she ranted, "that I can't trounce eight hobgoblins without help from a half-dressed half-man, half-elf, I'll gladly retire!"
She raised her sword in a mock salute to Tanis, wiped the bloody blade on a leg of his fringed breeches, then slid the weapon into a battle-scarred scabbard. Insolently she let her gaze flicker over the supine half-elf. His pointed ears, his most obvious elven heritage, showed through his shoulder-length hair. Her dark eyes also took in the broad shoulders and muscled chest that broadcast his human blood, and her smile grew wider. Tanis felt a flame ripple through him; then he shivered as the dampness of the ground permeated the back of his shirt.
Above him, the woman thrust out a hand. "Kitiara Uth Matar," she proclaimed. "Originally of Solace, most recently of wider horizons. Including the employ of numerous lords who are my business only." She raised a mocking eyebrow and stood back, arm stretched toward him. "Come on, half-elf. Get up!" She gestured impatiently. "Afraid of a woman?" Her smile curved lopsidedly again.
After some hesitation, Tanis met her handclasp, but she dipped forward at the last instant, clenching his forearm with a strong right hand. He, in turn, ended up grasping her arm at the elbow. Then the woman stepped back and began to haul upward, raising the half-elf despite his greater weight. "My name is Tanthalas," he said, letting himself be drawn to a half-seated position. "Also most recently of Solace."
"Tanthalas," she repeated. "A Qualinesti name."
"I was raised there. Most humans call me Tanis."
"Tanis, then."
He returned her smile in what he hoped was a disingenuous manner. Suddenly he tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her toward him. Kitiara's eyes widened in surprise. She began falling forward, and Tanis braced for the impact of her body on his. He would flip her; she deserved it—he'd tip her over and sit on her like a big brother until she cried uncle. He relished the thought.
But Kitiara, after her initial surprise, caught herself. Obviously guessing her opponent's intent, she used her momentum against him. Her right arm still caught in Tanis's grasp, she dove over him into the beginnings of a somersault.
Tanis refused to loosen his grip on Kitiara's arm. Her somersault halted in midflip, and she landed, with an exhalation of breath, on her back.
Tanis released his hold, then rolled onto his left side and leaped to his feet. He scrambled toward the woman and lunged, his body slamming down perpendicular over hers. But she foresaw his movement and balled up a fist before her, bracing her elbow against the earth. She waited, her gaze calm.
Tanis twisted aside and took the fist high, in the gut. He lay on the ground, frozen, struggling to regain his breath as Kitiara shoved him off her, rolled gracefully to her hip, and rose to her feet. Irritably she removed her helm and examined the broken strap. She brushed fragments of slimy leaves off her legs and arms.
She raised a hand in farewell, her expression mocking. "Don't think me ungrateful, Tanthalas. Maybe the next damsel you rush to save will actually need your help."
She watched him a moment, pivoted, and stalked away. The word "weakling" drifted back to him, with a bark of laughter. As soon as her back was turned, however, the half-elf ceased his feigned collapse and rose to his feet, using techniques of stealth perfected through years of living with the forest-wise Qualinesti. He moved carefully through the damp leaves, nearly soundlessly—to a human's ears, at least. Then he dove toward Kitiara, crashing into her shoulder, clasping his arms around her waist, and entwining his leg with hers. He yanked to one side.
One moment he was locked around Kitiara, breathing her odor of sweat and a deeper, musky scent. The next second, Tanis was sailing through the air over her head, flipping like a cat struggling to land on its feet. He hit the ground with a grunt, ripping his leather shirt down the front. Kitiara glanced at his bare chest and nodded appreciatively even as she dropped into a half-crouch. Tanis matched her stance. They circled in the dark, two shadows facing each other, each waiting for an opening. Neither drew a sword.
"Tanis, you begin to annoy me," Kitiara said. Her words were laconic, but her lithe body was tense.
What a magnificent woman, Tanis found himself thinking, but his mind tallied the corpses of hobgoblins. Even as he admired Kitiara, he wondered if anyone could tame her.
"Are you so weak that you descend to attacking someone from the back?" Kitiara taunted. "Wouldn't a brave man have met me face-to-face?" She darted toward him, and the half-elf leaped backward. They resumed their slow circling. Tanis could hear her consciously slowing her breath, seeking equilibrium, finding balance. His nightvision gave him an edge in the dimness, but she didn't
appear bothered by the dark. Kitiara's eyes were luminous. Tanis couldn't take his gaze from her oval face. He traded her taunt for taunt. Half-elf and woman continued to circle. Kitiara's foot twisted on a stick, but she caught herself. Her words betrayed no trace of weariness. "I must tell you, Tanis, that I am very used to getting what—or whom—I want." Her gaze was direct.
At that moment, Kitiara stepped directly in front of one of the hobgoblin corpses. Tanis feinted, and Kitiara attempted to counter, but she stumbled against the hobgoblin's outstretched arm and, this time, recovered too slowly. With a lightning move, Tanis tripped her with his heel and let himself fall on top of her.
Her body took the brunt of the impact. Kitiara winced as she struck the packed earth of the clearing, but she didn't cry out. She reached for her sword, but Tanis wrenched her hands away, pinning her wrists to the ground at shoulder level, her elbows bent. He intertwined his legs with hers, immobilizing the proud woman who hurled curses into his face.
Then Tanis stopped, staring at Kitiara. Suddenly he became aware of the curves and hollows of the body beneath his. As she glared up at him, her look of fury gradually changed to amusement.
"Well?" she said, and raised an eyebrow.
"Well," he replied. He pulled himself back a bit.
Her crooked smile snared him. "Here we are."
Tanis breathed musk deep into his lungs. Kitiara raised both brows mockingly and stared pointedly at the muscles gaping through Tanis's torn shirt. Her look dared him. Tanis muttered an old elven oath; Kitiara's smile grew wider. He held himself motionless. No good could come from a union between human and elf, he knew only too well.
Tanis suddenly wished he'd checked this Kitiara Uth Matar for a hidden dagger. But there was no going back now.
* * * * *
Later that night, as Tanis slept on Kitiara's pallet in her camp, the swordswoman eased away from the half-elf and reached for her pack, between pallet and fire. Checking once more to make sure the half-elf was sleeping, Kitiara slipped a hand into the pack, shoving aside spare clothing and provisions as she groped for the catch of the pack's false bottom. Barely breathing, she eased the piece of stiff canvas to one side and peered into the pack. Violet light streamed into the clearing. She let her fingers dance over the source of the glow. ". . . eight, nine," she murmured. "All there." She sighed and smiled, as with sweet contentment, but her eyes glittered.
Chapter 2
Danger Shared
"And so when my half-brothers were born, I took care of Raistlin and Caramon. My mother . . . couldn't," Kitiara concluded. That one word masked so much—her mother's frequent trances and illness, and those weeks on end that the woman spent in bed while Kitiara, with some help from her stepfather, tended the twins.
"When they were six and Raistlin had been admitted to the mage school, I left Solace. That was a long time ago—seven, ten years." She kept her tone offhand.
"This is your first trip back to Solace?" Tanis asked, guiding his heavy-boned gelding, Dauntless, around an outcropping of rocks. He kept the chestnut horse on the easier path of beaten earth. One hand pulled the leather headband from his forehead; the other wiped the sweat from his face. Then he replaced the band. The summer heat was oppressive, even on the shaded path.
"I come back now and then." Kitiara shrugged. "I was there when my mother died, and a few other times. I bring the twins presents and money when I have any."
"You don't seem . . ." Tanis bit off the words.
Kitiara surveyed him. "What, half-elf?" When he failed to go on, she reached over toward him and, smiling, prodded the half-elf with a fist until he grimaced.
"For someone who hasn't seen her brothers in a year, you don't seem to be in much of a hurry to get back," Tanis finally said. "We've been on the road more than a month, and you haven't pushed the pace at all. In fact," he added, warming to the topic, "you were the one who insisted on taking off after the horax."
The six-foot-long, insectlike monster had burst into camp one morning more than two weeks ago, rampaging through their belongings and making off with Kitiara's pack. The creature, built low to the ground, with armorlike plates protecting it from its mandible to its rearmost pair of legs, had twelve legs and possessed frightening quickness and ferocity.
Kitiara's first suspicion had been that the Valdane's mage had sent the horax after her to recover the pack and the ice jewels. But she dispelled that notion when the carnivorous creature, after some wandering, finally had simply returned to its subterranean colony. She and the half-elf had taken advantage of an early-morning cold snap, which slowed the cold-blooded creature and several of its mates.
The campaign against the horax had drawn them back south and west into the forests of Qualinesti, Tanis's turf, but still far off their planned route to Solace. The expedition had taken up half of the one month that had elapsed since Tanis and Kitiara's initial skirmish with the hobgoblins. Now the travelers, the pack restored to its spot behind Kitiara's saddle, were several miles south of Haven.
"I still think it would have been easier for you to get a new pack," Tanis persisted. "That one looks like it's been through a civil war."
"Well, it has," Kitiara muttered defensively.
"So why were you so determined to get it back?" He gazed at her inquisitively, but his expression was mild.
She bristled. "I told you it's none of your business."
Tanis brushed aside her protest like one of the flies that circled in the heat. "I risked my life for it, Kit."
Kitiara slapped the saddle's pommel. "I have a business arrangement to discuss with Raistlin," she said heatedly. "Some of the . . . background information . . . is in the pack."
"That explains why you were bent on pursuing the horax," he said doggedly. "It doesn't explain why you're in no hurry to meet with your brother now."
By the gods, the half-elf was nosy! "I'm still working on the plan," she said hotly. "You could have gone on without me, half-elf. It wasn't your fight. You could have gone on to meet your dwarf friend in Solace."
"As though I'd abandon a woman and let her take on a carnivorous monster alone."
Kitiara whipped a dagger from a sheath. Before Tanis could draw another breath, he was gazing at the point of the wicked weapon. He didn't seem terribly impressed with her lightning speed, however, which enraged the swordswoman all the more. Kitiara finally spoke, spitting out each word. "Half-elf, I do not need a man to protect me!"
Astoundingly, Tanis smiled. Then he threw his head back and laughed. "Of course, Kit. Of course."
Kitiara sheathed the dagger, still fuming. They rode on for a mile without speaking. Finally Tanis, with an apologetic look, broke the silence. "Can I help you? With your plan, I mean?"
The mercenary snorted. "As if you could."
"I handle Hint Fireforge's metalsmithing dealings, and no one is more disorganized than that dwarf when it comes to business. I might be able to make some suggestions for you and your brother."
Kitiara looked at Tanis. "Thanks, but no thanks," was all she said.
Tanis didn't seem bothered by Kitiara's rejection of his offer of help. The two rode companionably, side by side, for nearly an hour through the late afternoon calm. When Kitiara finally spoke again, however, it was as though only a short time had elapsed.
"You don't seem in any great hurry to get back to Solace yourself," she commented. "What about this dwarf friend of yours? Won't he be wondering where you are?"
The half-elf shook his head. "Flint knows I went to Qualinost to visit my relatives. He knows I'll be back whenever I get back."
Kitiara reached out, pulled a leaf from an overhanging sycamore tree, and casually began to shred it. "Relatives? Your parents?"
Tanis hesitated before answering. "My mother's dead. My mother's husband's brother raised me."
"Mother's husband's . . ." Kitiara looked in confusion at Tanis. "Not your father?" She tried to sort out what he'd already told her in light of this new information. "But you sai
d you were raised in the court of the Speaker of the Sun." She couldn't hide that she was impressed; everybody knew the Speaker of the Sun was the leader of the Qualinesti nation. "Did the Speaker's brother marry a human? I thought humans haven't been in Qualinost in centuries."
"If ever," Tanis said tersely. "My mother was an elf. My father was human."
Kitiara jerked on Obsidian's reins. The well-trained mare halted in midstride. "All right, now I'm lost," the swordswoman confessed. "The elven Speaker's brother is human?"
Tanis looked away. "Can't we just leave this be?"
"Fine." Kitiara kicked Obsidian into a canter. "Your parentage makes no difference to me, half-elf." Her back was stiff as she rode off.
Tanis sat motionless on Dauntless for a few moments, deep in thought, while Kitiara rode on ahead without a glance back. At last, as she was disappearing around a curve, the half-elf hailed her. She waited atop the black mare as the gelding pounded up.
The half-elf didn't look at Kitiara. "My mother was married to the Speaker's brother—who, yes, was an elf," he said tonelessly. "They were waylaid on the road by a gang of humans—thugs and thieves. They murdered my mother's husband. My mother was raped by a human; after I was born, she died. The Speaker raised me with his own children."
"Ah." Kitiara thought it wise to say nothing else. But Tanis wasn't finished. He seemed driven to say it all and get it over with. His jaw was set, his hazel eyes hard; the hands that clenched Dauntless's reins were white at the knuckles.
"The one behind the attack was not a human," he said. "It was the Speaker's other brother."
Kitiara's eyes widened. "I thought elves were above all that," she murmured. "Elven honor and all."
Tanis pierced her with a stare. "It's not a joke, Kitiara. Honor is important to me. My mother and the man who should have been my father lost their lives because of dishonor." He paused, a sudden flush coloring his cheekbones.
Kitiara nodded soothingly. But to herself, she thought, No, Tanis wouldn't be a good one to help her with the purple gems.
[Meetings 05] - Steel and Stone Page 3