precious home.
A pang of loneliness stabbed at Tos'un's thoughts and heart as he looked back at the burned village. He would have liked to join in that battle. More than that, the drow admitted, he would have liked departing with the victorious elves.
PART 1 Chapter 6 FAREWELL
A thousand candles flickered on the northern side of the twenty-five foot square chamber, set in rows on a series of steps carved into the wall for just that purpose. A slab of gray stone leaned against the eastern wall, beside the closed wooden door. It had been expertly cut from the center of the floor, and on it, engraved in the Dethek runes of the dwarves:
DELENIA CURTIE OF LUSKAN AND MITHRAL HALL
WIFE OF WULFGAR, SON OF KING BRUENOR
MOTHER OF COLSON
WHO FELL TO THE DARKNESS OF OBOULD
IN THE YEAR OF THE UNSTRUNG HARP
1371 DALERECKONING
TO THIS HUMAN
MORADIN OFFERS HIS CUP
AND DUMATHOIN WHISPERS HIS SECRETS
BLESSED IS SHE
Over the hole that had been made when the slab was removed, a stone sarcophagus rested on two heavy wooden beams. A pair of ropes ran out to either side from under it. The box was closed and sealed after Wulfgar paid his final respects.
Wulfgar, Bruenor, Drizzt, Catti-brie, and Regis stood solemnly in a line before the sarcophagus and opposite the candles, while the other guests attending the small ceremony fanned out in a semi-circle behind them. Across from them, the cleric Cordio Muffinhead read prayers to the dead. Wulfgar paid no heed to those words, but used the rhythms of Cordio's resonant voice to find a state of deep contemplation. He recalled the long and arduous road that had brought him there, from his fall in the grasp of the yochlol in the battle for Mithral Hall, to his years of torment at the hands of Errtu. He looked at Catti-brie only once, and regretted what might have been.
What might have been but could not be reclaimed, he knew. There was an old Dwarvish saying: k'niko burger braz-pex strame - "too much rubble over the vein" - to describe the point at which a mine simply wasn't worth the effort anymore. So it was with him and Catti-brie. Neither of them could go back. Wulfgar had known that when he had taken Delly as his wife, and he had been sincere in their relationship. That gave him comfort, but it only somewhat mitigated the pain and guilt. For though he had been sincere with Delly, he had not been much of a husband, had not heard her quiet pleas, had not placed her above all else.
Or could he even do that? Were his loyalties to Delly or to Mithral Hall?
He shook his head and pushed that justification away before it could find root. His responsibility was to bring both of those responsibilities to a place of agreement. Whatever his duties to Bruenor and Mithral Hall, he had failed Delly. To hide from that would be a lie, and a lie to himself would destroy him.
Cordio's chanting anesthetized him. He looked at the casket, and he remembered Delly Curtie, the good woman who had been his wife, and who had done so well by Colson. He accepted his own failure and he moved past it. To honor Delly would be to serve Colson, and to make of himself a better man.
Delly forgave him, he knew in his heart, as he would forgive her if the situation had been reversed. That was all they could do in the end, really. Do their best, accept their mistakes, and go on to a better way.
He felt her spirit all around him, and in him. His mind scrolled through images of the woman, flashes of Delly's smile, the tenderness on her face when they finished making love - a look, he knew without asking, that was reserved for him alone.
He recalled a moment when he had observed Delly dancing with Colson, unaware of his presence. In all the time he had known her, never had Wulfgar seen her so animated, so free, so full of life. It was as if, through Colson, and for just that moment, she had found a bit of her own childhood - or the childhood that harsh circumstances had never allowed her to truly experience. That had been Wulfgar's rawest glance into the soul of Delly Curtie, more so even than in their lovemaking.
That was the image that lingered, the image he burned into his consciousness. Forever after, he decided, when he thought of Delly Curtie, he would first