Read Online Cry of the Ghost Wolf: Neverwinter NiChosen of Nendawen, Book III by Mark Sehesdedt - Free Book Online Page A

over her face, and she closed her eyes. Gleed had taught her many things beyond the sacred rites of Nendawen and the properties of plants and herbs and roots. When lessons were over, his talk would sometimes turn to other matters. Hweilan soon learned that he held little love for his goblin forebears and their ways, and he sometimes lost himself in particularly long rants about goblinkind and their stupid, narrow, backward customs. Many times, Hweilan had let her mind wander, but when he spoke of their rituals and beliefs, she paid close attention, and even prodded him with an occasional question. As a young girl who had often grown frustrated with the strict rules of her own Damaran household, she developed an interest in the ways of other peoples. And so, yet again, Gleed’s lessons proved useful.
    She raised her head, looked Buureg in the eye, and said, “Your Champion demands Blood Slake of the Hand. Let it be done. But the Hand demands Blood Price of the Razor Heart.”
    Buureg blinked and took a step back, surprised by her words, then looked to Maaqua.
    The old crone smiled, but her eyes went feral. “Watch this one, Buureg. She’s a crafty fox. One of Gleed’s little monsters. Probably knows our ways better than you do.”
    Buureg said, “If she accepts the Blood Slake, we must honor the Blood Price. Honor demands—”
    “Piss on honor!” said Maaqua. She leaned in close to Hweilan. “Enough with your mummer’s show, girl. Speak. What do you want?”
    Hweilan raised her voice and spoke in her most formal Goblin. “I am the Hand of the Hunter. I will stand, and the Razor Heart may have my blood, if they can take it. But if they cannot, I demand my life, the lives of my four companions, and all our belongings be returned to us. Life for life. Death for death. If I win, you will set us free as you found us. I demand nothing more than what is mine.”
    She could have asked for more. By all rights, she could have demanded the Razor Heart Champion’s sword. But had she done that, Hweilan knew that she very likely would have met with a fatal accident long before she could face Rhan.
    Buureg looked to Maaqua. His face betrayed no emotion.
    The queen shrugged. “Rhan will make short work of her. It hardly matters.”
    Buureg said, “You and the three in the hole will have your lives, your belongings, and your freedom. The big one killed Ruuket’s mate. His life is not mine to spare. All the rest, you shall have—if you win.”
    “So be it,” said Hweilan.
    Buureg sighed, then reached into his sleeve and withdrew a black dagger. “Hand of the Hunter, do you swear to stay your hand against the Razor Heart and abide in peace by our fires until life or death be decided?”
    Hweilan kept her gaze fixed on Maaqua—she was the dangerous one. Rhan held no fear for her. Nor even Buureg and his brutes. Hweilan knew their kind. They would not hesitate to kill her, but they would do so openly, wanting to look her in the eye as they did it. Maaqua was an adder in the cleft, hidden by shadows.
    “I do,” said Hweilan. “In the name of Nendawen, Master of the Hunt, I so swear. May his wrath strike me down if I break this vow.”
    “So be it,” said Buureg. He spared another glance to Maaqua, then he bent and cut away Hweilan’s bonds.

     
    “Someone’s coming,” said Valsun, startling Darric out of his doze.
    Both men stood. Darric could hear it, too. Footsteps above, and the occasional clank of metal.
    “Think they’ve come to feed us?” said Darric. They hadn’t eaten since that night in the mountains when Hweilan’s wolf had brought them the ram.
    This roused Jaden. He didn’t sit up from his bed of blankets, but his eyes widened and he looked up expectantly.
    “In armor?” said Valsun. “Not likely.”
    At the rim of the pit, a helmeted silhouette came into view, looking down on them. Then another.
    “Damn all of you!” Valsun shouted. “Either feed us or kill us!”
    The two warriors above