世界之脊 第 25 章 奇迹出现
第 25 章
奇迹出现
两天之后，莫里克预测的暴风雪真的来了,但由于天气已经开始变暖，所以不是那么猛烈——道路勉强还可以通过。这两个骑马者迈着沉重的步伐前进，同时小心的寻找着“路”。尽管天气恶劣，但由于沃夫加的努力，他们走的很快。没多久就到达一个分散者农场与石屋的区域。现在暴风雨帮了他们不少忙，因为这样的天气里中厚实的窗帘后面很少出现好奇的面孔，而且在穿过暴风雪后，他们的皮肤上粘满了血，几乎不可能被认出来。
不久，沃夫加躲在一块悬着的大石头后面，看着莫里克,深水城的布兰德博格公爵,骑马进入了村庄。现在天变得很长，暴风雨也还在继续，但是莫里克没有再回来。沃夫加离开了他的避风处转移到了一个能看见奥克城堡的地方。如果莫里克的身份被揭穿的话他想要知道。如果这样，他应该冲下去救他的朋友吗？
沃夫加对自己的处境感到可笑。莫里克现在很可能正在城堡温暖的火炉前，享受着美味的食物。野蛮人回到了他的避风处，开始刷他的马，并提醒他自己要有耐心。
最后莫里克回来了,一脸严肃。“我没被友好的接待,”他解释到。
“你的身份被揭穿了？”
“没有，不是因为这个。”盗贼说。“他们认为我是布兰德博格公爵,但是他们对你我同时消失感到怀疑。”
沃夫加点了点头，他们早就预见了这种情况。“如果他们怀疑你，你是怎么离开的？”
“我努力使他们相信这是个巧合。”他回答到, “我又为什么回到奥克尼呢？当然，为了享受一顿向他们解释我离开的大餐。”
“当然，”沃夫加狡猾地表示同意, 他的语调很冷淡。“那么马萝达和她的孩子怎么样了? 你见到她了吗?”野蛮人问到。
莫里克把马鞍从他的马身上扯了下来开始刷他的马,就像是准备上路。“我们该走了，”他平静的说到。“远远的离开这里。”
“你知道些什么？”沃夫加急切的问到，他真的很关心。
“我们在这里没有朋友,甚至没有认识的人，现在没有任何人有接待访客的心情, ”莫里克答到。“无论对于沃夫加、莫里克或者布兰德博格公爵,远离这快可怜的领地都是个好的选择。”
沃夫加弯身抓住盗贼的双肩,把他转了过来。“马萝达怎么了”他问。
“她昨天深夜生了个孩子。”莫里克好象很不愿意承认。沃夫加的眼睛因担心而瞪的很大，“两个人都活着，”莫里克很快补充到,“到现在为止。”盗贼转过身去，继续做他的工作。
感到沃夫加正急切的看着他，莫里克叹了都气又转了回去。“听着，她曾经诬告你强奸她。”他提醒到。“她是为了掩饰自己。”莫里克继续说到。“她的谎言判了你死刑,只是为了向自己的丈夫掩饰她的不忠。”沃夫加再一次点了点头，这些他都知道。
莫里克困惑的看着他的朋友，奇怪他对于这一切无动于衷,奇怪他一点也不愤怒，因为这个女人，他被折磨，差点就要被处死。
“好吧，现在他们对孩子的出生产生了怀疑。”莫里克解释到。“太快了,考虑到她被我们抢劫的时间, 这就是所有人都不相信她讲的故事的原因。”
沃夫加叹了口气。“我担心的都发生了。”
“我听说在弗林戈公爵和马萝达之间的婚礼的那一天有一个男人跳崖死了，死前叫着她的名字。”
“弗林戈公爵认为他给他戴了绿帽子?”沃夫加问到。
“不是很确定，”莫里克答复。“孩子在婚礼之前就被考虑到了——即使它是你的孩子 ,也上这样——但是他知道,当然, 她妻子曾经和另一个男人恋爱过，而现在，他可能认为她是自愿，而不是被强奸的。”
“一个被强奸的女人是无辜的。”沃夫加说出了他的看法,全凭自己的感觉。
“一个说谎的女人······”莫里克厌恶的补充到。
沃夫加又叹了口气，走出他的避风处,再次注视着城堡。“她会怎么样呢?”他回身对莫里克说到。
*****
“把孩子送走，就像你计划的那样。”泰米格斯特向正在房间里走来走去的弗林戈领主建议到。
“现在不一样了，”年轻的男人说到，同时无能为力的握紧双拳，他的目光越过老管家看着他的姐姐。
普里西拉很放松的靠在椅子里，她得意的笑容仿佛是在提醒着她一开始就反对自己的弟弟和一个农民结婚。
“我们不知道有什么改变的。”泰米格斯特说,依然是那种充满智慧的声音。
普里西拉哼了一声，说到“你不会计算时间吗？”她问。
“孩子一定是早产了。”泰米格斯特反对到。
“它是我见过的发育最完全的孩子。”普里西拉说。“没有早产, 泰米格斯特，你知道的。”普里西拉盯着他的兄弟，又开始叙述她的观点——这已经在城堡里导致了一整天的混乱了——“孩子是在夏至时怀上的。”她说到“在那次所谓的路上强盗攻击之前。”
“我不知道。”弗林戈公爵哀叹到。他用力扯着裤子边，而这正反应了他现在脑子里乱极了。
“你怎么会不知道。”普里西拉反问到“你已经成为全领地人的笑柄，一个懦夫，因为你软弱！”
“你仍然爱她。”泰米格斯特插嘴到。
“我爱吗？”弗林戈公爵说,他的表情显得很迷惑，“我不知道。”
“那么，驱逐她，”管家提议到。“把她和孩子一起驱逐。”
“那会使村民们嘲笑的更厉害，”普里西拉酸溜溜的说到“你想看着这个孩子在数年后回来然后继承你的领地吗？我们知道多少类似的事了？”
泰米格斯特怒视着这个女人，这样的事确实发生过，但他们自己的并不寻常。
“那我该怎么办？”弗林戈领主向她的姐姐寻求答案。
“审判她。”普里西拉斩钉截铁的答到“立刻，然后解决后顾之忧。”
“解决?”弗林戈疑惑的重复到。
“她想要你杀了孩子。”泰米格斯特解释到。
“把它丢到海里去。”普里西拉兴奋地继续到,同时离开椅子向她弟弟走来。“如果你现在表现的毫不软弱，人们将更加尊重你。”
“如果你杀了一个无辜的孩子，人们将会厌恶你”泰米格斯特愤怒地说,比弗林戈公爵的对普里西拉的愤怒更多。
“无辜？”普里西拉反问到，好象这完全是一个谬论。
“那就让他们厌恶你，”她的脸弗林戈公爵只有不到一寸的距离。“至少比嘲笑要好，你会让私生子活下来吗? 顺便提醒一下，你难道不该调查一下是谁让马萝达怀孕的吗？”
“闭嘴！”弗林戈公爵命令到,推开了她。
普里西拉没有放弃，“好吧，但是想象一下，她在贾克·斯库里怀里是怎样的开心呢，”她说到，这话气得她的兄弟浑身发抖，甚至无法说出话来。“我打赌一定努力向他展现自己最漂亮的地方。”普里西拉下流的说完。
年轻的领主嘴里发出了一声野性的怒吼。他用双手抓住了他姐姐的肩膀，粗暴的推开了他。她满意的笑着，看着这一切——她的被激怒的兄弟走过泰米格斯特身旁，冲向楼梯。通往马萝达和她孩子房间的楼梯。
*****
“她被保护着，你知道。”莫里克大声提醒到, 但他的声音在狂风中仍显得单薄。
沃夫加并没有注意到这个警告。他的眼睛一直盯着奥克城堡，目光纹丝不动。他把雪堆成世界之脊的样子,就好象这是现在的他与原来的他之间的屏障。当那一个障碍之时在男人之间他是和他变得的受害人。现在，他的大脑不在被酒精所麻痹,他用强烈的自我承认来抵挡他被囚禁时的那些恐怖画面, 沃夫加在内心深处清楚的作出了选择。他发现他在可以离开的情况下坚持着,他可以越过情绪的障碍,可以像以前那样战斗。
野蛮人用怒吼对抗暴风雪。当他接近桥时甚至开始加速，速度越来越快,全速奔跑起来,迅速转向右边，雪几乎是和城堡的城墙和护栏平行飘过。地面上的雪没过了沃夫加的膝盖,但是他怒吼着躺着雪不断前进。他从雪面上跳起，伸出手臂用战锤锤头勾住了城墙。沃夫加听到一声来自上方的惊呼，由于对着石头声音格外的大，但是他几乎没有减慢速度,强壮的肌肉瞬间绷紧,将自己向上拉动，顺势一滚，穿过了城墙上的垛口。他敏捷的落在了护栏里面,正好站在了两个惊呆了的守卫之间,他们为了使自己的手感觉暖和点都没有握着武器。
莫里克用和沃夫加相同的方法进入城堡，他以完美的平衡敏捷的跳过了剁口，而不是像沃夫加靠力量。即使这样,当他到达护栏的时候，沃夫加已经站在了城堡的大院里，两个守卫躺在地上呻吟着, 一个捂着下巴，另一个抱着肚子。
“守住门，”一个守卫努力大叫到。
门啪的一声打开了,一个男人向外张望。当看到沃夫加后,试图快速关上它。就在它被关上之前,沃夫加赶到了，用尽全力将门向后拉。他听到了男人大声求助的声音，感到又有一个守卫在里面拉门，用尽全力。
“我也来了。”莫里克喊到,“虽然只有诸神知道这是为什么！”
他的思想在很远的地方,一个充满黑色浓雾的地方,空气中传来了他孩子痛苦的哭声。沃夫加没有听到他朋友的喊叫,不需要他。伴随着一声怒吼，他用尽全里，在门被最后关上前拉开了他,随手将两个守卫甩到了前厅的墙上，就好象那是两个孩子一样。
“她在哪？”沃夫加问到,就在这时，前厅的另一个门被打开。莱恩·木门出现在门后，拿着剑冲了上来。
“现在咱们来算帐吧，狗东西。”车夫吼到,快速凶狠的将剑刺出，这只是一个佯攻。他将剑向后拉,突然转向,横扫剑锋迷惑对手,再迅速转回来，精准的刺出了足以致命的一击。
莱恩很出色,他也知道自己是整个奥克尼最好的战士。但是他很难理解沃夫加的锤子如此快速的挥出然后用锤头勾住了剑刃将这次攻击打偏，他是怎么使自己巨大的身体如此敏捷的移动到能够攻击到自己的地方，他怎么做到如此完美的转身，用他粗壮的手臂抬起了莱恩握剑的手臂，莱恩了解自己的剑术,所以他很难理解他如此聪明的攻击怎么就这样被完全的化解了。莱恩只感到自己的脸被按在了墙上，他的双臂被扭到背后拉紧，野蛮人呼出的热气喷在了他的脖子上。
“马萝达和她的孩子, ”沃夫加问到。“她们在哪?”
“我死也不会告诉你的。”莱恩回答到。沃夫加继续加力。老侏儒觉得自己马上就要死了，但是他用决心与怒吼对抗痛苦。
沃夫加把他转了过来连续猛击将他打倒在地上。莱恩几乎拌倒了刚刚从另一扇门进来的莫里克。
沃夫加跟在他后面，他们听到了声音，莫里克带路,他们撞碎一组两边开的门进入一个舒服起居室。
“布兰德博格领主?”普拉西里叫到。
当她看见沃夫加跟着盗贼进入房间后，普拉西里尖叫着从椅子里起身后退“马萝达和孩子在哪?”他吼到。
“你造成的伤害还不够多吗？”管家泰米格斯特说到,勇敢的站在了巨大男人的面前。
沃夫加注视着他。“太多了”，他承认,“但不会在这。”
泰米格斯特站了回去。
“她们在哪里?”沃夫加向普拉西里走近，问到。
“强盗，凶手！”普里西拉尖叫着倒在地上。
沃夫加看着泰米格斯特。令沃夫加惊异的是，老管家向楼梯点了点头然后走了过去。
就在这时, 普里西拉·奥克全速跑上了楼梯。
*****
“你对我还有什么可说的吗？”弗林戈问马萝达,站在她床的边缘,女婴正温暖的躺在她身边。“对我们？对奥克尼？”
“我请求你试着理解 , 我的领主,”女人恳求到。
弗林戈忧郁了,重重的打了自己眼睛一拳。他面无表情，弯下腰抱起了躺在她身边的女婴。马萝达试着坐起来，但是她还很虚弱，又倒在了床上。“你想怎么样？
弗林戈大步走到窗前拉开窗帘。“我姐姐说我应该把它扔进礁石上摔死。”他咬着牙一字一顿的说到,“为我除掉你背叛我的证据。”
“不，弗林戈，不要—”马萝达喊到。
“外边已经有很多传言了，你知道。”弗林戈好象根本没听到她的话。他用袖子抹了一把脸，“贾克·斯库里的孩子。”
“我的领主！”她哭着叫到,红红的眼睛里带着恐惧。
“你想怎么样？”弗林戈大吼到,看看手里的孩子，又抬头看看窗外。马萝达哭了起来。
“不贞的妻子，还有凶手。”弗林戈喃喃自语到，同时向窗边走去。“我恨你，马萝达!”他咒骂到。伸出手臂把孩子举到了窗外，然后他看着这个无辜的孩子,他的眼泪还孩子的眼泪混合到一起。“我恨你，我说过。”他哭着说到,抽泣着使劲吸着空气。
突然房门被打开,普里西拉冲了进来。她猛的关上门，插上插销转身靠在门上。评估了现场的形式，她跑向她的兄弟,尖叫着说到：“把它给我!”
弗林戈公爵卷了孩子和普里西拉的抓手之间的他的肩。
“把它给我!”女人再次尖叫到，并且冲过去开始抢孩子
*****
沃夫加快速的追了上去，只用四步就跨上了弯曲的楼梯。他进入了一个铺着豪华地毯的走廊，这里只有一个装模做样的守卫。野蛮人一击打掉了这个男人的剑，用手掐住他的脖子把他扔了出去。
莫里克从他身边穿了过去，仔细倾听每一个房间的动静，最后停在了一个房间前。“他们在这里面。”他宣布。他抓住了门把手发现门是锁着的。
“钥匙！”沃夫加摇动着守卫问到。
男人抓住野蛮人铁一般的手臂。“没有钥匙,”他从嘴里挤出了这几个字，已经快要窒息了。沃夫加看起来是要掐死他,但是盗贼阻止了他。
“没关系，我来开锁。”他说,拿出他的工具带快速走了上去。
“不用，我有钥匙。”沃夫加吼到。莫里克看着野蛮人冲了过来，一只手仍然抓着守卫。当发现沃夫加用力将这个倒霉的男人扔向木制的门时，莫里克明白了他的意图。“钥匙”,野蛮人解释到。
“扔的好。”莫里克评论到。
“我练习过。”沃夫加解释到,闪电般的跳过头晕目眩的守卫进入了房间。
马萝达眼泪汪汪的做在床上，弗林戈公爵他的姐姐站在窗户边,弗林戈双臂抱着婴儿。他侧身对着窗户好象正要把孩子扔出去。姐弟俩和马萝达目瞪口呆的看着沃夫加，眼睛挣的不能再大，直到莫里克跑进来撞到了野蛮人后背。
“布兰德博格领主!”弗林戈叫到。
普里西拉对她的兄弟喊到,“快，在他们破坏前——”
“孩子是我的!”沃夫加宣布。普拉西里吃惊的停止了她的话，弗林戈的表情像石头一样冰冷。
“什么？”年轻的统治者和普拉西里、莫里克同时问到。
“什么？”马萝达也小声说到，赶紧用咳唆掩饰她声音中的吃惊。
“孩子是我的,”沃夫加坚定的重申到，“如果你把她扔出窗户，那么你将很快跟着下去，并且你将比她先落地，然后你那受伤的身体将成为她下落的垫子。”
“你在紧急时到是很能说啊。”莫里克评论到。看着弗林戈领主，他补充到,“窗户很小,没错，但我敢打赌我强壮的朋友能把你塞进去，或者你那胖姐姐。”
“你不可能是孩子的父亲。”弗林戈领主宣布,全身激烈的抖动着，看起来就要站不住了。他转向普里西拉寻求帮助,他姐姐通常总是比他有办法。“这是什么诡计？”
“把他给我！”普里西拉要求。利用她兄弟的暂时的不知所措，她跑过去一把抢过弗林戈抱着的孩子。在马萝达的喊声，婴儿哭声中，沃夫加冲了过去,知道他不可能及时赶到，知道这个无辜的孩子死定了。
正当普里西拉转向窗户时，她的兄弟跳到了她面前对着她的脸就是一下，女人退了一步，晕了过去。弗林戈再次把孩子从她手中抢了过来,把他的姐姐推倒在地板上。
沃夫加看着这个男人，很长时间,通过他的表情不在怀疑尽管对此事很愤怒，但是弗林戈不会伤害孩子。野蛮人绕着房子退了几步,在他够得着的范围内看着男人,相信年轻的领主不会做对于孩子不利的行为。
“孩子是我的。”野蛮人低声的吼到,伸过手去尽量温柔的把还在哭着的孩子从弗林戈的手中拉了过来。“我原想再过一个月才回来，”他解释到,转向马萝达。“你早产了，但是很好，一个发育完整的野蛮人婴儿的出生会要了你的命。”
“沃夫加！”莫里克突然警告到。
弗林戈领主,显然恢复了一部分神智和全部愤怒,从腰间拔出短剑向野蛮人身后刺去。 莫里克不用担心,虽然背对着,沃夫加听到了声音。单手举起孩子远离攻击保护它,用另一只空出来的手将短剑拍开。在弗林戈接近的同时，沃夫加抬起膝盖狠狠的击中了男人的裆部。弗林戈领主倒了下去,在地板上弯曲着身体低声呻吟着。
“我认为我的大朋友能让你的丈夫做不成爸爸。”莫里克对马萝达眨了眨眼眼评论到。
马萝达甚至没有听到，她一直在看着沃夫加，从他宣布孩子是自己的时开始。
“我为我在路上的行动感到抱歉，马萝达女士,”野蛮人说，他现在有很多听众,莱恩·木门，管家泰米格斯特和剩余的半打城堡守卫都站在门口,睁大眼睛怀疑的看着他。在沃夫加面前的地板上, 普里西拉向上看着他，混乱和愤怒在她的眼睛中燃烧着。
“我当时被你的美丽吸引了，”沃夫加解释。他将他的目光转向孩子,微笑着把孩子举在头上用他湛蓝的双眼看着她。“但是我不会为犯罪的结果道歉, ”他说。“决不。”
“我会杀了你。弗林戈领主咆哮到，努力试图站起来。
沃夫加弯身单手抓住男人的领子，用力帮他站了起来，他把男人拉到能感到他呼出的热气的距离。“你会忘记我和孩子,”沃夫加对着他的耳朵说到，“冰风谷的其他野蛮人部落会血洗这个城堡和你的小领地的。”
沃夫加推开了年轻的统治者,把他扔给了莫里克。莱恩和其他守卫的危险的目光中，盗贼毫不忧郁的用匕首抵住男人的喉咙
“为了确保路上的安全。”沃夫加说到，“我们需要婴儿带和孩子的事物。”房子里的所有看着沃夫加和孩子的人脸上都带着怀疑的表情。“马上去找。”野蛮人吼到。莫里克皱着眉押着弗林戈领主向门口移动,并且把普里西拉推到了他前面。
“快去找！”盗贼对莱恩和普里西拉喊到。他向后瞥了一眼看见沃夫加向马萝达走去，因此，他继续向外移动把所有人都赶了出去。
“你为什么这么做？”当房间里只有她、沃夫加和孩子时候，马萝达问到。
“你的谎言很容易被拆穿。”沃夫加解释到。
“我诬告了你。”
“我能理解。”，沃夫加答到。“你当时恐惧而无助，但是最后还是冒着危险从监狱中放了我。我欠你的。”
马萝达摇着头试着找出头绪。太多想法和情绪在她的头脑中旋转。她仿佛又看见弗林戈绝望的表情,想着他的确会把孩子摔死在石头上。 然而, 最后，他没有能做到,也没让他姐姐做到。她确实爱这个男人——怎么会不呢?但是她仍然无法否定对于他行为的失望，尽管她知道，孩子永远无法由自己抚养。
"责任? 那是你留下来的唯一原因吗?" 沃夫加问她, 显然他感到还有些其他什么原因。
"我爱他，你知道 , " 马萝达答复,泪水滑过她美丽的脸颊。 "我知道会怎么看我，但事实是，小孩在我嫁给他之前就 -"
沃夫加抬起手。 "你不欠我解释 , " 他说, "我没资格审判你或其他人。 我开始理解你的...问题, 而且因此我报答了你的慷慨，就这么简单。" 他看着门外莫里克押着弗林戈领主。 "他确实爱你 , " 他说。 "他的眼睛和他的痛苦的程度清楚的表达了这点."
" 你认为我留下来是正确地?"
沃夫加耸了耸肩,再次拒绝做出评判。
"我不能离开他 , " 马萝达说到,伸出手温柔的抚摩着孩子的脸, "但是我也不能留下她——弗林戈永远不会接受," 她承认，她的声音开始变得哽咽，因为她意识到她与她女儿一起的时间即将结束。 "但是也许本来他会把她送给奥克尼的一户人家，当他认为我没有背叛他时曾经这么想过" 她小声的说到。
"作为一个对他自己的痛苦和你的谎言的提醒 , " 沃夫加轻声说到，并没有责备女人, 但是确切的提醒了她事实是什么样的。 "而且在他泼辣姐姐可以够到的地方."
马萝达低下头接受了痛苦的事实。 婴儿在奥克尼并不安全。
"谁能比我更适合养育她?" 沃夫加突然问到, 声音中透露出决心。 他低头看着小女孩，做出了一个温暖的微笑。
" 你会养育她?"
沃夫加点了点头。 "很高兴 ."
" 你将会保证她的安全" 马萝达压进。 " 告诉她关于她妈妈的事?"
沃夫加再次点了点头。 "我不知道我的道路去往何方 , " 他解释到, "但是我怀疑我将不会去离这太远的地方冒险。 也许有一天我会和她回来, 或者只有她自己, 来看一眼她的妈妈。"
马萝达哭了起来，泪水在她脸上闪烁。沃夫加向门口看了一眼确定他没有在被监视,然后弯下身吻了她。 "我想这是最好的 , " 他安静地说到。 " 你同意吗?"
她看着男人，这是一个冒所有险救了她和她的孩子确没有得到任何对于他英雄行为奖赏的男人，马萝达点了点头。
泪水继续自由的流下。 沃夫加可以理解她的感觉,她做如此牺牲的痛苦程度。 他斜靠在床上, 让马萝达最后一次抚摩并亲吻她的孩子, 但是当她试图把她抱过去的时候，沃夫加把她拉了回来。 马萝达回以一个理解和苦乐参半的微笑。
"快点长大吧，小家伙, " 她哭着说到，然后转过头去。 沃夫加最后一次对马萝达点了点头，抱着孩子，转身离开了房间。
他在走廊中找到了莫里克, 后者勒索到了很多食物、衣服，还有黄金, 因为他们将会需要黄金在温暖和舒服的旅馆中安顿孩子。 野蛮人、婴儿和盗贼,走上了通往城堡出口的路，没有人试图阻止他们，看起来似乎是弗林戈领主命令守卫这么做的, 希望这两个强盗赶紧带着他的私生女离开城堡，离开他的生活。
然而，普里西拉不这样想。 他们在第一层她曾经试图抢走婴儿的地方撞见了她,后者一直挑衅的盯着他。 野蛮人和她保持了一段距离, 他的表情清楚的向她表达如果她试图抢走孩子，他会把她劈成两半。 普里西拉气得抓起一件厚羊毛外套砸了过来,并且伴随着一声咒骂，然后转身离开了。
" 愚蠢的母牛 ",莫里克小声嘟囔到。
沃夫加笑了起来，然后温和地把婴儿包在了温暖的毛毯中, 终于使她停止了哭喊。 外面,白天很快就要结束，但是暴风雨小多了, 最后，乌云也被风在天空中快速的吹散了。吊桥被放下来，桥面上，他们看见管理人泰米格斯特和一双马等候他们, 他身边站着弗林戈领主。
弗林戈注视着沃夫加和婴儿。 "如果你敢回来..." 他说到。
"我为什么?" 野蛮人打断了他。 "我现在有了我的孩子，而且她会像冰风谷的公主一样长大。我不会回来毁掉你的世界的，弗林戈领主。"
"我为什么?" 弗林戈以同样的语调回答到,勇敢的正视着沃夫加。 "我现在有我了的妻子,我美丽的妻子。 我无罪的妻子,她自愿和我一起的， 我不会强迫她的。"
这最后的，能够找回一些男人自尊的陈述, 告诉沃夫加弗林戈已经，或者很快会完全原谅马萝达。 沃夫加这次不要命的, 没经考虑而且一点准备也没有的行为不知为何, 奇迹般的产生了如此效果。 他忍住没有对这样荒谬的事笑出来, 给了弗林戈需要的安静。他只是看着奥克尼的统治者镇定的站着, 直起肩膀,经过放下的门离开了吊桥，回到了他的家和妻子那里。
管理人泰米格斯特把缰绳他们。 "她不是你的 , " 管理人突然说到。沃夫加报着孩子上了马，假装没有听到他的话。
"别担心, 我不会说的 , 马萝达也不会 , 你今天拯救了她的生活 , " 管家继续说到。 " 你是一个好人，沃夫加，贝奥尼家之子,冰风谷麋鹿部落的。 "沃夫加惊讶地眨了眨眼, 对于男人夸奖和他所知道的事都感到惊讶。
"一定是抓你的法师告诉他的 , " 莫里克说到。 " 我讨厌法师。 "
"不会再有人去抓你的, " 泰米格斯特说。 "我保证 ."
这句承诺成为了事实, 莫里克和沃夫加没有遇到任何麻烦就走到了山坡上，找到了他们自己的马，然后继续上路向东方走去，永远的离开了奥克尼。
" 怎么了?" 沃夫加那天晚上很晚的时候问莫里克,看见盗贼的愉快表情。 他们正在火堆边挤在一起,好使孩子保持温暖。 莫里克微笑拿起两个瓶子, 一瓶装着给孩子的温热的山羊奶,另一瓶装着庆祝他们好运的酒。 沃夫加拿了装有羊奶的那瓶。
"我永远不会完全理解你的，我的朋友 , " 莫里克评论到。
沃夫加微笑着, 没有回答。 莫里克没法真正了解沃夫加的过去,那些他和崔斯特、和其他朋友一起的好时光, 以及那些和厄图、和他的魔裔子孙一起的最坏的时光。
"有很简单的方法赚钱, " 莫里克说到，这话引起了沃夫加的坚定的目光。 "当然，我是指买掉孩子, " 莫里克继续说到。
沃夫加嘲笑的看着他。
" 能有一个好价格 ",莫里克争论到,拿起瓶子为健康痛饮了一大口。
" 不足够好 ",沃夫加说到,转过头看着小女孩。她正蠕动着喝着羊奶。
" 你不是想把她养大吧!" 莫里克争论到。 "带着她我们能去什么地方? 对与你，你想去哪？你丢掉了所有判断力了吗?"
沃夫加皱着眉转过头看着他,打掉莫里克手中的瓶子, 然后把他推回到地上, 把这当作给盗贼莫里克的回答。
"她甚至不是你的!" 莫里克提醒到。
盗贼没有更错过。
Chapter 25
EPIPHANY
Two days later, Morik's predicted snowstorm did come on, but its fury was somewhat tempered by the late season, leaving the road passable. The two riders plodded along, taking care to stay on the trail. They made good time, despite the foul weather, with Wulfgar driving them hard. Soon they came to a region of scattered farmhouses and stone cottages. Now the storm proved to be their ally, for few curious faces showed in the heavily curtained windows, and through the snow, wrapped in thick skins, the pair were hardly recognizable.
Soon after, Wulfgar waited in a sheltered overhang along the foothills, while Morik, Lord Brandeburg of Waterdeep, rode down into the village. The day turned late, the storm continued, but Morik didn't return. Wulfgar left his shelter to move to a vantage point that would afford him a view of Castle Auck. He wondered if Morik had been discovered. If so, should he rush down to find some way to aid his friend?
Wulfgar gave a chuckle. It was more likely that Morik had stayed on at the castle for a fine meal and was warming himself before the hearth at that very moment. The barbarian retreated again to his shelter to brush down his horse, telling himself to be patient.
Finally Morik did return, wearing a grim expression indeed. "I was not met with friendly hugs," he explained.
"Your disguise did not hold?"
"It's not that," said the rogue. "They thought me Lord Brandeburg, but just as I feared they considered it a bit odd that I disappeared at the same time you did."
Wulfgar nodded. They had discussed that very possibility. "Why did they let you leave if they were suspicious?"
"I convinced them it was but a coincidence," he reported, "else why would I return to Auckney? Of course, I had to share a large meal to persuade them."
"Of course," Wulfgar agreed archly, his tone dry. "What of Lady Meralda and her child? Did you see her?" the barbarian prompted.
Morik pulled the saddle from his horse and began brushing his own beast down, as if preparing again for the road. "It is time for us to be gone," he replied flatly. "Far from here."
"What news?" Wulfgar pressed, now truly concerned.
"We have no allies here, and no acquaintances even, in any mood to entertain visitors," Morik replied. "Better for all that Wulfgar, Morik, and Lord Brandeburg, put this wretched little pretend fiefdom far behind their horses' tails."
Wulfgar leaned over and grabbed the rogue's shoulder, roughly turning him from his work on the horse. "The Lady Meralda?" he demanded.
"She birthed a child late last night," Morik admitted reluctantly. Wulfgar's eyes grew wide with trepidation. "Both survived," Morik quickly added, "for now." Pulling away, the rogue went back to his work with renewed vigor.
Feeling Wulfgar's eyes on him expectantly, Morik sighed and turned back. "Look, she told them that you had ravished her," he reminded his friend. "It seems likely that she was covering an affair," Morik reasoned. "She lied, condemning you, to hide her own betrayal of the young lord." Again, the knowing nod, for this was no news to Wulfgar.
Morik looked at him hard, surprised that he was not shaken somewhat by the blunt expression of all that had occurred, surprised that he was showing no anger at all despite the fact that, because of the woman, he had been beaten and nearly brutally executed.
"Well, now there is doubt concerning the heritage of the child," Morik explained. "The birth was too soon, considering our encounter with the girl on the road, and there are those within the village and castle who do not believe her tale."
Wulfgar gave a profound sigh. "I suspected as much would happen."
"I heard some talk of a young man who fell to his death on the day of the wedding between Lord Feringal and Meralda, a man who died crying out for her."
"Lord Feringal believes he's the one who cuckolded him?" Wulfgar asked.
"Not specifically," Morik replied. "Since the child was surely conceived before the wedding-even if it had been your child, that would have been so-but he knows, of course, that his wife once lay with another, and now he may be thinking that it was of her own volition and not something forced upon her on a wild road."
"A ravished woman is without blame," Wulfgar put in, for it all made sense.
"While a cheating woman. . . ." Morik added ominously.
Wulfgar gave another sigh and walked out of the shelter, staring again at the castle. "What will happen to her?" he called back to Morik.
"The marriage will be declared invalid, surely," Morik answered, having lived in human cities long enough to understand such things.
"And the Lady Meralda will be sent from the castle," the barbarian said hopefully.
"If she's fortunate, she'll be banished from Feringal Auck's domain with neither money nor title," Morik replied.
"And if she's unfortunate?" Wulfgar asked.
Morik winced. "Noblemen's wives have been put to death for such offenses," the worldly rogue replied.
"What of the child?" an increasingly agitated Wulfgar demanded. The images of his own horrible past experiences began edging in at the corners of his consciousness.
"If fortunate, banished," Morik replied, "though I fear such an action will take more good fortune than the banishment of the woman. It is very complicated. The child is a threat to Auck's domain, but also to his pride."
"They would kill a child, a helpless babe?" Wulfgar asked, his teeth clenched tightly as those awful memories began to creep ever closer.
"The rage of a betrayed lord cannot be underestimated," Morik answered grimly. "Lord Feringal cannot show weakness, else risk the loss of the respect of his people and the loss of his lands. Complicated and unpleasant business, all. Now let us be gone from this place."
Wulfgar was indeed gone, storming out from under the overhang and stalking down the trails. Morik was quick to catch him.
"What will you do?" the rogue demanded, recognizing Wulfgar's resolve.
"I don't know, but I've got to do something," Wulfgar said, increasing his pace with the level of his agitation while Morik struggled to keep up. As they entered the village, the storm again proved an ally, for no peasants were about. Wulfgar's eyes were set on the bridge leading to Castle Auck.
*****
"Give the child away, as you planned," Steward Temigast suggested to the pacing Lord Feringal.
"It is different now," the young man stammered, slapping his fists helplessly at his sides. He glanced over at Priscilla. His sister was sitting comfortably, her smug smile a reminder that she'd warned him against marrying a peasant in the first place.
"We don't know that anything has changed," Temigast said, always the voice of reason.
Priscilla snorted. "Can you not count?" she asked.
"The child could be early," Temigast protested.
"As well-formed a babe as ever I've seen," said Priscilla. "She was not early, Temigast, and you know it." Priscilla looked straight at her brother, reiterating the talk that had been buzzing about Castle Auck all day. "The child was conceived mid-summer," she said, "before the supposed attack on the road."
"How can I know for sure?" Lord Feringal wailed. His hands tore at the sides of his pants, an accurate reflection of the rending going on inside his mind.
"How can you not know?" Priscilla shot back. "You've been made a fool to the mirth of all the village. Will you compound that now with weakness?"
"You still love her," Steward Temigast cut in.
"Do I?" Lord Feringal said, so obviously torn and confused. "I don't know anymore."
"Send her away, then," the steward offered. "Banish her with the child."
"That would make the villagers laugh all the harder," Priscilla observed sourly. "Do you want the child to return in a score of years and take your kingdom from you? How many times have we heard of such tales?"
Temigast glared at the woman. Such things had occurred, but they were far from common.
"What am I to do, then?" Lord Feringal demanded of his sister.
"A trial of treason for the whore," Priscilla answered matter-of-factly, "and a swift and just removal of the result of her infidelity."
"Removal?" Feringal echoed skeptically.
"She wants you to kill the child," Temigast explained archly.
"Throw it to the waves," Priscilla supplied feverishly, coming right out of her chair. "If you show no weakness now, the folk will still respect you."
"They will hate you more if you murder an innocent child," Temigast said angrily, more to Priscilla than Lord Feringal.
"Innocent?" Priscilla balked as if the notion were preposterous.
"Let them hate you," she said to Lord Feringal, moving her face to within an inch of his. "Better that than to laugh at you. Would you suffer the bastard to live? A reminder, then, of he who lay with Meralda before you?"
"Shut your mouth!" Lord Feringal demanded, pushing her back.
Priscilla didn't back down. "Oh, but how she purred in the arms of Jaka Sculi," she said, and her brother was trembling so much that he couldn't even speak through his grinding teeth. "I'll wager she arched that pretty back of hers for him," Priscilla finished lewdly.
Feral, sputtering sounds escaped the young lord. He grabbed his sister by the shoulders with both hands and flung her aside. She was smiling the whole time, satisfied, for the enraged lord shoved past Temigast and ran for the stairs. The stairs that led to Meralda and her bastard child.
*****
"It's guarded, you know," Morik reminded him, yelling though his voice sounded thin in the howling wind.
Wulfgar wouldn't have heeded the warning anyway. His eyes were set on Castle Auck, and his line to the bridge didn't waver. He pictured the mounds of snow as the Spine of the World, as that barrier between the man he had been and the victim he had become. Now, his mind free at last of all influence of potent liquor, his strength of will granting him armor against those awful images of his imprisonment, Wulfgar saw the choices clearly before him. He could turn back to the life he had found or he could press on, could cross that emotional barrier, could fight and claw his way back to the man he once was.
The barbarian growled and pressed on against the storm. He even picked up speed as he reached the bridge, a fast walk, a trot, then a full run as he picked his course, veering to the right, where the snow had drifted along the railing and the castle's front wall. Up the drift Wulfgar went, crunching into snow past his knees, but growling and plowing on, maintaining his momentum. He leaped from the top of the drift, reaching with an outstretched arm to hook his hammer's head atop the wall. Wulfgar heard a startled call from above as it caught loudly against the stone, but he hardly slowed, great muscles cording and tugging, propelling him upward, where he rolled around, slipping right over the crenelated barrier. He landed nimbly on his feet on the parapet within, right between two dumbfounded guards, neither of them holding a weapon as they tried to keep their hands warm.
Morik rushed up the same path as Wulfgar, using agile moves to scale the wall nearly as fast as his friend had done with brute strength. Still, by the time he got to the parapet Wulfgar was already down in the courtyard, storming for the main keep. Both guards were down, too, lying on the ground and groaning, one holding his jaw, the other curled up and clutching his belly.
"Secure the door!" one of the guards managed to cry out.
The main door cracked open then, a man peeking out. Seeing Wulfgar bearing in, he tried to close it fast. Wulfgar got there just before it slammed, pushing back with all his strength. He heard the man calling frantically for help, felt the greater push as another guard joined the first, both leaning heavily.
"I'm coming, too," Morik called, "though only the gods know why!"
His thoughts far away, in a dark and smoky place where his child's last terrified cry rent the air, Wulfgar didn't hear his friend, didn't need him. Bellowing, he shoved with all his strength until the door flew in, tossing the two guards like children against the back wall of the foyer.
"Where is she?" Wulfgar demanded, and even as he spoke the foyer's other door swung open. Liam Woodgate appeared, rushing in with sword in hand.
"Now you pay, dog!" the coachman cried, coming in fast and hard, stabbing, a feint. Pulling the blade back in, he sent it into a sudden twirl, then feigned a sidelong slice, turning it over again and coming straight in with a deadly thrust.
Liam was good, the best fighter in all of Auckney, and he knew it. That's why it was difficult to understand how Wulfgar's hammer came out so fast to hook over Liam's blade and take it safely wide of the mark. How could the huge barbarian turn so nimbly on his feet to get within reach of Liam's sword? How was he able to come around perfectly, sending his thick arm spiking up under Liam's sword arm? Liam knew his own skill, and so it was even harder for him to understand how his clever attack had been turned against him so completely. Liam knew only that his face was suddenly pressed against the stone wall, his arms pulled tight behind his back, and the snarling barbarian's breath was on his neck.
"Lady Meralda and the child," Wulfgar asked. "Where are they?"
"I'd die afore I'd tell you!" Liam declared. Wulfgar pressed in. The poor old gnome thought he surely would die, but Liam held his determined tongue and growled against the pain.
Wulfgar spun him around and slammed him once, then slammed him again when he managed somehow to hold his feet, launching him over to the floor. Liam nearly tripped up Morik, who skipped right on by through the other door and into the castle proper.
Wulfgar was right behind him. They heard voices, and Morik led the way, crashing through a set of double doors and into a comfortable sitting room.
"Lord Brandeburg?" Lady Priscilla asked.
She squealed in fright and fell back in her chair as Wulfgar followed the rogue into the room. "Where is Lady Meralda and the child?" he roared.
"Haven't you caused enough harm?" Steward Temigast demanded, moving to stand boldly before the huge man.
Wulfgar looked him right in the eye. "Too much," he admitted, "but none here."
That set Temigast back on his heels.
"Where are they?" Wulfgar demanded, rushing up to Priscilla.
"Thieves! Murderers!" Priscilla cried, swooning.
Wulfgar locked stares with Temigast. To Wulfgar's surprise, the old steward nodded and motioned toward the staircase.
Even as he did, Priscilla Auck ran full-out up the staircase.
*****
"Do you have any idea what you've done to me?" Feringal asked Meralda, standing by the edge of her bed, the infant girl lying warm beside her. "To us? To Auckney?"
"I beg you to try to understand, my lord," the woman pleaded.
Feringal winced, pounding his fists into his eyes. His visage steeled, and he reached down and plucked the babe from her side. Meralda started up toward him, but she hadn't the strength and fell back on the bed. "What're you about?"
Feringal strode over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. "My sister says I should toss it to the waves upon the rocks," he said through teeth locked in a tight grimace, "to rid myself of the evidence of your betrayal."
"Please, Feringal, do not-" Meralda began.
"It's what they're all saying, you know," Feringal said as if she hadn't spoken. He blinked his eyes and wiped his nose with his sleeve. "The child of Jaka Sculi."
"My lord!" she cried, her red-rimmed eyes fearful.
"How could you?" Feringal yelled, then looked from the baby in his hands to the open window. Meralda started to cry.
"The cuckold, and now the murderer," Feringal muttered to himself as he moved closer to the window. "You have damned me, Meralda!" he cursed. Holding out his arms, he moved the crying baby to the opening, then he looked down at the innocent little girl and pulled her back close, his tears mixing with the baby's. "Damned me, I say!" he cried, and the breath came in labored, forced gasps.
Suddenly the door to the room flew open, and Lady Priscilla burst in. She slammed it shut and secured the bolt behind her. Surveying the scene quickly, she ran to her brother, her voice shrill. "Give it to me!"
Lord Feringal rolled his shoulder between the child and Priscilla's grasping hands.
"Give it to me!" the woman shrieked again, and a tussle for the baby ensued.
*****
Wulfgar went in fast pursuit, taking the curving staircase four steps at a stride. He came to a long hallway lined with rich tapestries where he ran into yet another bumbling castle guard. The barbarian slapped the prone man's sword away, caught him by the throat, and lifted him into the air.
Morik skittered past him, going from door to door, ear cocked, then he stopped abruptly at one. "They're in here," he announced. He grabbed the handle only to find it locked.
"The key?" Wulfgar demanded, giving the guard a shake.
The man grabbed the barbarian's iron arm. "No key," he gasped breathlessly. Wulfgar looked about to strangle him, but the thief intervened.
"Don't bother, I'll pick the lock," he said, going fast to his belt pouch.
"Don't bother, I have a key," Wulfgar cried. Morik looked up to see the barbarian bearing down on him, the guard still dangling at the end of one arm. Seeing his intent, Morik skittered out of the way as Wulfgar hurled the hapless man through the wooden door. "A key," the barbarian explained.
"Well thrown," Morik commented.
"I have had practice," explained Wulfgar, thundering past the dazed guard to leap into the room.
Meralda sat up on the bed, sobbing, while Lord Feringal and his sister stood by the open window, the babe in Feringal's arms. He was leaning toward the opening as if he meant to throw the child out. Both siblings and Meralda turned stunned expressions Wulfgar's way, and their eyes widened even more when Morik crashed in behind the barbarian.
"Lord Brandeburg!" Feringal cried.
Lady Priscilla shouted at her brother, "Do it now, before they ruin every-"
"The child is mine!" Wulfgar declared. Priscilla bit off the end of her sentence in surprise. Feringal froze as if turned to stone.
"What?" the young lord gasped.
"What?" Lady Priscilla gasped.
"What?" gasped Morik, at the same time.
"What?" gasped Meralda, quietly, and she coughed quickly to cover her surprise.
"The child is mine," Wulfgar repeated firmly, "and if you throw her out the window, then you shall follow so quickly that you'll pass her by and your broken body will pad her fall."
"You are so eloquent in emergencies," Morik remarked. To Lord Feringal, he added, "The window is small, yes, but I'll wager that my big friend can squeeze you through it. And your plump sister, as well."
"You can't be the father," Lord Feringal declared, trembling so violently that it seemed as if his legs would just buckle beneath him. He looked to Priscilla for an answer, to his sister who was always hovering above him with all of the answers. "What trick is this?"
"Give it to me!" Priscilla demanded. Taking advantage of her brother's paralyzing confusion, she moved quickly and tore the child from Feringal's grasp. Meralda cried out, the baby cried, and Wulfgar started forward, knowing that he could never get there in time, knowing that the innocent was surely doomed.
Even as Priscilla turned for the window, her brother leaped before her and slugged her in the face. Stunned, she staggered back a step. Feringal snatched the child from her arms and shoved her again, sending his sister stumbling to the floor.
Wulfgar eyed the man for a long and telling moment, understanding then beyond any doubt that despite his obvious anger and revulsion, Feringal would not hurt the child. The barbarian strode across the room, secure in his observations, confident that the young man would take no action against the babe.
"The child is mine," the barbarian said with a growl, reaching over to gently pull the wailing baby from Feringal's weakening grasp. "I meant to wait another month before returning," he explained, turning to face Meralda. "But it's good you delivered early. A child of mine come to full term would likely have killed you in birthing."
"Wulfgar!" Morik cried suddenly.
Lord Feringal, apparently recovering some of his nerve and most of his rage, produced a dagger from his belt and came in hard at the barbarian. Morik needn't have worried, though, for Wulfgar heard the movement. Lifting the babe high with one arm to keep her from harm's way, he spun and slapped the dagger aside with his free hand. As Feringal came in close, Wulfgar brought his knee up hard into the man's groin. Down Lord Feringal went, curling into a mewling heap on the floor.
"I think my large friend can make it so that you never have children of your own," Morik remarked with a wink to Meralda.
Meralda didn't even hear the words, staring dumbfounded at Wulfgar, at the child he had proclaimed as his own.
"For my actions on the road, I truly apologize, Lady Meralda," the barbarian said, and he was playing to a full audience now, as Liam Woodgate, Steward Temigast and the remaining half dozen castle guards appeared at the door, staring in wide-eyed disbelief. On the floor before Wulfgar, Lady Priscilla looked up at him, confusion and unbridled anger simmering in her eyes.
"It was the bottle and your beauty that took me," Wulfgar explained. He turned his attention to the child, his smile wide as he lifted the infant girl into the air for his sparkling blue eyes to behold. "But I'll not apologize for the result of that crime," he said. "Never that."
"I will kill you," Lord Feringal growled, struggling to his knees.
Wulfgar reached down with one hand and grabbed him by the collar. Helping him up with a powerful jerk, he spun the lord around into a choke hold. "You will forget me, and the child," Wulfgar whispered into his ear. "Else the combined tribes of Icewind Dale will sack you and your wretched little village."
Wulfgar pushed the young lord, spinning him into Morik's waiting grasp. Staring at Liam and the other dangerous guards, the rogue wasted no time in putting a sharp dagger to the man's throat.
"Secure us supplies for the road," Wulfgar instructed. "We need wrappings and food for the babe." Everyone in the room, save Wulfgar and the baby, wore incredulous expressions. "Do it!" the barbarian roared. Frowning, Morik pushed toward the door with Lord Feringal, waving a scrambling Priscilla out ahead of him.
"Fetch!" the rogue instructed Liam and Priscilla. He glanced back and saw Wulfgar moving toward Meralda then, so he pushed out even further, backing them all away.
"What made you do such a thing?" Meralda asked when she was alone with Wulfgar and the child.
"Your problem was not hard to discern," Wulfgar explained.
"I falsely accused you."
"Understandably so," Wulfgar replied. "You were trapped and scared, but in the end you risked everything to free me from prison. I could not let that deed go unpaid."
Meralda shook her head, too overwhelmed to even begin to sort this out. So many thoughts and emotions whirled in her mind. She had seen the look of despair on Feringal's face, had thought he would, indeed, drop the baby to the rocks. Yet, in the end he hadn't been able to do it, hadn't let his sister do it. She did love this man-how could she not? And yet, she could hardly deny her unexpected feelings for her child, though she knew that never, ever, could she keep her.
"I am taking the babe far from here," Wulfgar said determinedly, as if he had read her mind. "You are welcome to come with us."
Meralda laughed softly, without humor, because she knew she would be crying soon enough. "I can't," she explained, her voice a whisper. "I've a duty to my husband, if he'll still have me, and to my family. My folks would be branded if I went with you."
"Duty? Is that the only reason you're staying?" Wulfgar asked her, apparently sensing something more.
"I love him, you know," Meralda replied, tears streaming down her beautiful face. "I know what you must think of me, but truly, the babe was made before I ever-"
Wulfgar held up his hand. "You owe me no explanation," he said, "for I am hardly in a position to judge you or anyone else. I came to understand your . . . problem, and so I returned to repay your generosity, that is all." He looked to the door through which Morik held Lord Feringal. "He does love you," he said. "His eyes and the depth of his pain showed that clearly."
"You think I'm right in staying?"
Wulfgar shrugged, again refusing to offer any judgments.
"I can't leave him," Meralda said, and she reached up and tenderly stroked the child's face, "but I cannot keep her, either. Feringal would never accept her," she admitted, her tone empty and hollow, for she realized her time with her daughter was nearing its end. "But perhaps he'd give her over to another family in Auckney now that he's thinking I didn't betray him," she suggested faintly.
"A reminder to him of his pain, and to you of your lie," Wulfgar said softly, not accusing the woman, but surely reminding her of the truth. "And within the reach of his shrewish sister."
Meralda lowered her gaze and accepted the bitter truth. The baby was not safe in Auckney.
"Who better to raise her than me?" Wulfgar asked suddenly, resolve in his voice. He looked down at the little girl, and his mouth turned up into a warm smile.
"You'd do that?"
Wulfgar nodded. "Happily."
"You'd keep her safe?" Meralda pressed. "Tell her of her ma?"
Wulfgar nodded. "I don't know where my road now leads," he explained, "but I suspect I'll not venture too far from here. Perhaps someday I will return, or at least she will, to glimpse her ma."
Meralda was shaking with sobs, her face gleaming with tears. Wulfgar glanced to the doorway to make sure that he was not being watched, then bent down and kissed her on the cheek. "I think it best," he said quietly. "Do you agree?"
After she studied the man for a moment, this man who had risked everything to save her and her child though they had done nothing to deserve his heroism, Meralda nodded.
The tears continued to flow freely. Wulfgar could appreciate the pain she was feeling, the depth of her sacrifice. He leaned in, allowing Meralda to stroke and kiss her baby girl one last time, but when she moved to take her away, Wulfgar pulled back. Meralda's smile of understanding was bittersweet.
"Fairwell, little one," she said through her sobs and looked away. Wulfgar bowed to Meralda one last time, then, with the baby cradled in his big arms, he turned and left the room.
He found Morik in the hallway, barking commands for plenty of food and clothing-and gold, for they'd need gold to properly situate the child in warm and comfortable inns. Barbarian, baby, and thief, made their way through the castle, and no one made a move to stop them. It seemed as if Lord Feringal had cleared their path, wanting the two thieves and the bastard child out of his castle and out of his life as swiftly as possible.
Priscilla, however, was a different issue. They ran into her on the first floor, where she came up to Wulfgar and tried to take the baby, glaring at him defiantly all the while. The barbarian held her at bay, his expression making it clear that he would break her in half if she tried to harm the child. Priscilla huffed her disgust, threw a thick wool wrap at him, and with a final growl of protest, turned on her heel.
"Stupid cow," Morik muttered under his breath.
Chuckling, Wulfgar tenderly wrapped the baby in the warm blanket, finally silencing her crying. Outside, the daylight was fast on the wane, but the storm had faded, the last clouds breaking apart and rushing across the sky on swift winds. The gate was lowered. Across the bridge they saw Steward Temigast waiting for them with a pair of horses, Lord Feringal at his side.
Feringal stood staring at Wulfgar and the baby for a long moment. "If you ever come back . . ." he started to say.
"Why would I?" the barbarian interrupted. "I have my child now, and she will grow up to be a queen in Icewind Dale. Entertain no thoughts of coming after me, Lord Feringal, to the ruin of all your world."
"Why would I?" Feringal returned in the same grim tone, facing up to Wulfgar boldly. "I have my wife, my beautiful wife. My innocent wife, who gives herself to me willingly. I do not have to force myself upon her."
That last statement, a recapture of some measure of manly pride, told Wulfgar that Feringal had forgiven Meralda, or that he soon enough would. Wulfgar's desperate, unconsidered and purely improvised plan had somehow, miraculously, worked. He bit back any semblance of a chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all, let Feringal have his needed moment. He didn't even blink as the lord of Auckney composed himself, squared his shoulders, and walked back across the bridge through the lowered gate to his home and his wife.
Steward Temigast handed the reins to the pair. "She isn't yours," the steward said unexpectedly. Starting to pull himself and the babe up into the saddle, Wulfgar pretended not to hear him.
"Fear not, for I'll not tell, nor will Meralda, whose life you have truly saved this day," the steward went on. "You are a fine man, Wulfgar, son of Beornegar, of the Tribe of the Elk of Icewind Dale." Wulfgar blinked in amazement, both at the compliment and at the simple fact that the man knew so much of him.
"The wizard who caught you told him," Morik reasoned. "I hate wizards."
"There will be no pursuit," said Temigast. "On my word."
And that word held true, for Morik and Wulfgar rode without incident back to the overhang, where they retrieved their own horses, then continued down the east road and out of Auckney for good.
"What is it?" Wulfgar asked Morik later that night, seeing the rogue's amused expression. They were huddled about a blazing fire, keeping the child warm. Morik smiled and held up a pair of bottles, one with warm goat's milk for the child, the other with their favored potent drink. Wulfgar took the one with the goat's milk.
"I will never understand you, my friend," Morik remarked.
Wulfgar smiled, but did not respond. Morik could never truly know of Wulfgar's past, of the good times with Drizzt and the others, and of the very worst times with Errtu and the offspring of his stolen seed.
"There are easier ways to make gold," Morik remarked, and that brought Wulfgar's steely gaze over him. "You mean to sell the child, of course," Morik reasoned.
Wulfgar scoffed.
"A fine price," Morik argued, taking a healthy swig from the bottle.
"Not fine enough," said Wulfgar, turning back to the babe. The little girl wriggled and cooed.
"You cannot plan to keep her!" Morik argued. "What place has she with us? With you, wherever you plan to go? Have you lost all sensibility?"
Scowling, Wulfgar spun on him, slapped the bottle from his hands, then shoved him back to the ground, as determined an answer as Morik the Rogue had ever heard.
"She's not even yours!" Morik reminded him.
The rogue could not have been more wrong.
