Deudermont nodded, remembering the display. "It would seem that you have
attracted some powerful foes."
"The man we seek knew that we would come into Baldur's Gate," said Drizzt.
"He even left a message for us. It would not have been difficult for the likes
of Artemis Entreri to arrange a signal detailing how and when we left"
"Or to arrange the ambush," Wulfgar said grimly.
"So it would seem," said Deudermont.
Drizzt kept quiet, but suspected differently. Why would Entreri lead them
all this way, only to have them killed by pirates? Someone else had entered the
picture, Drizzt knew, and he could only guess that that person was Pasha Pook
himself.
"But there are other matters we must discuss," said Deudermont. "The Sea
Sprite is seaworthy, but we have taken serious damage - as has the pirate ship
we have captured."
"Do you mean to sail both out of here?" Wulfgar asked.
"Aye," replied the captain. "We shall release Pinochet and his men when we
get to port. They will take the vessel from there."
"Pirates deserve worse," Bruenor grumbled.
"And will this damage slow our journey?" Drizzt asked, more concerned with
their mission.
"It will," Deudermont replied. "I am hoping to get us to the kingdom of
Calimshan, to Memnon, just beyond the Tethyr border. Our flag will aid us in the
desert kingdom. There, we may dock and repair."
"For how long?"
Deudermont shrugged. "A week, perhaps, maybe longer. We'll not know until we
can properly assess the damage. And another week after that to sail around the
horn to Calimport."
The four friends exchanged disheartened and worried glances. How many days
did Regis have left to live? Could the halfling afford the delay?
"But there is another option," Deudermont told them. "The journey from
Memnon to Calimport by ship, around the city of Teshburl and into the Shining
Sea, is much longer than the straight land route. Caravans depart for Calimport
nearly every day, and the journey, though a hard one through the Calim Desert,
takes but a few days."
"We have little gold for passage," said Catti-brie.
Deudermont waved the problem away. "A minor cost," he said. "Any caravan
heading through the desert would be glad to have you along as guards. And you
have earned ample reward from me to get you through." He jiggled a bag of gold
strapped to his belt. "Or, if you choose, you may remain with the Sea Sprite for
as long as you wish."
"How long to Memnon?" Drizzt asked.
"It depends on how much wind our sails can hold," replied Deudermont. "Five
days; perhaps a week."
"Tell us of this Calim Desert," said Wulfgar. "What is a desert?"
"A barren land," replied Deudermont grimly, not wanting to understate the
challenge that would be before them if they chose that course. "An empty
wasteland of blowing, stinging sands and hot winds. Where monsters rule over
men, and many an unfortunate traveler has crawled to his death to be picked
clean by vultures."
The four friends shrugged away the captain's grim description. Except for
the temperature difference, it sounded like home.
13
Paying the Piper
The docks rolled away beyond sight in either direction, the sails of a
thousand ships speckled the pale blue waters of the Shining Sea, and it would
take them hours to walk the breadth of the city before them, no matter which
gate they sought.
Calimport, the largest city in all the Realms, was a sprawling
conglomeration of shanties and massive temples, of tall towers springing from
plains of low wooden houses. This was the hub of the southern coast, a vast
marketplace several times the area of Waterdeep.
Entreri moved Regis off the docks and into the city. The halfling offered no
resistance; he was too caught up in the striking emotions that the unique
smells, sights, and sounds of the city brought over him. Even his terror at the
thought of facing Pasha Pook became buried in the jumble of memories invoked by
his return to his former home.
He had spent his entire childhood here as an orphaned waif, sneaking meals
on the streets and sleeping curled up beside the trash fires the other bums set
in the alleys on chilly nights. But Regis had an advantage over the other
vagabonds of Calimport. Even as a young lad, he had undeniable charm and a lucky
streak that always seemed to land him on his feet. The grubby bunch he had run
with just shook their heads knowingly on the day their halfling comrade was
taken in by one of the many brothels of the city.
The "ladies" showed Regis much kindness, letting him do minor cleaning and
cooking tasks in exchange for a high lifestyle that his old friends could only
watch and envy. Recognizing the charismatic halfling's potential, the ladies
even introduced Regis to the man who would become his mentor and who would mold
him into one of the finest thieves the city had ever known: Pasha Pook.
The name came back to Regis like a slap in the face, reminding him of the
terrible reality he now faced. He had been Pook's favorite little cutpurse, the
guildmaster's pride and joy, but that would only make things worse for Regis
now. Pook would never forgive him for his treachery.
Then a more vivid recollection took Regis's legs out from under him as
Entreri turned him down Rogues Circle. At the far end, around the cul-de-sac and
facing back toward the entrance to the lane, stood a plain-looking wooden
building with a single, unremarkable door. But Regis knew the splendors hidden
within that unpretentious facade.
And the horrors.
Entreri grabbed him by the collar and dragged him along, never slowing the
pace.
"Now, Drizzt, now," Regis whispered, praying that his friends were about and
ready to make a desperate, last-minute rescue. But Regis knew that his prayers
would not be answered this time. He had finally gotten himself stuck in the mud
too deeply to escape.
Two guards disguised as bums moved in front of the pair as they approached
the door. Entreri said nothing but shot them a murderous stare.
Apparently the guards recognized the assassin. One of them stumbled out of
the way, tripping over his own feet, while the other rushed to the door and
rapped loudly. A peephole opened, and the guard whispered something to the
doorman inside. A split second later, the door swung wide.
Looking in on the thieves' guild proved too much for the halfling. Blackness
swirled about him, and he fell limp in the assassin's iron grasp. Showing
neither emotion nor surprise, Entreri scooped Regis up over his shoulder and
carried him like a sack into the guildhouse and down the flight of stairs beyond
the door.
Two more guards moved in to escort him, but Entreri pushed his way past
them. It had been three long years since Pook had sent him on the road after
Regis, but the assassin knew the way. He passed through several rooms, down
another level, and then started up a long, spiral staircase. Soon he was up to
street level again and still climbing to the highest chambers of the structure.
Regis regained consciousness in a dizzy blur. He glanced about desperately
as the images came clearer and he remembered where he was. Entreri had him by
the ankles, the halfling's head dangling halfway down the assassin's back and
his hand just inches from the jeweled dagger. But even if he could have gotten
to the weapon quickly enough, Regis knew that he had no chance of escape - not
with Entreri holding him, two armed guards following, and curious eyes glaring
at them from every doorway.
The whispers had traveled through the guild faster than Entreri.
Regis hooked his chin around Entreri's side and managed to catch a glimpse
of what lay ahead. They came up onto a landing, where four more guards parted
without question, opening the way down a short corridor that ended in an ornate,
ironbound door.
Pasha Pook's door.
The blackness swirled over Regis once again.
* * *
When he entered the chamber, Entreri found that he had been expected. Pook
sat comfortably on his throne, LaValle, by his side and his favorite leopard at
his feet, and none of them flinched at the sudden appearance of the two
long-lost associates.
The assassin and the guildmaster stared silently at each other for a long
time. Entreri studied the man carefully. He hadn't expected so formal a meeting.
Something was wrong.
Entreri pulled Regis off his shoulder and held him out - still upside down -
at arm's length, as if presenting a trophy. Convinced that the halfling was
oblivious to the world at that moment, Entreri released his hold, letting Regis
drop heavily to the floor.
That drew a chuckle from Pook. "It has been a long three years," the
guildmaster said, breaking the tension.
Entreri nodded. "I told you at the outset that this one might take time. The
little thief ran to the corners of the world."
"But not beyond your grasp, eh?" Pook said, somewhat sarcastically. "You
have performed your task excellently, as always, Master Entreri. Your reward
shall be as promised." Pook sat back on his throne again and resumed his distant
posture, rubbing a finger over his lips and eyeing Entreri suspiciously.
Entreri didn't have any idea why Pook, after so many difficult years and a
successful completion of the mission, would treat him so badly. Regis had eluded
the guildmaster's grip for more than half a decade before Pook finally sent
Entreri on the chase. With that record preceding him, Entreri did not think
three years such a long time to complete the mission.
And the assassin refused to play such cryptic games. "If there is a problem,
speak it," he said bluntly.
"There was a problem," Pook replied mysteriously, emphasizing the past tense
of his statement.
Entreri rocked back a step, now fully at a loss - one of the very few times
in his life.
Regis stirred at that moment and managed to sit up, but the two men, engaged
in the important conversation, paid him no notice.
"You were being followed," Pook explained, knowing better than to play a
teasing game for too long with the killer. "Friends of the halfling?"
Regis's ears perked up.
Entreri took a long moment to consider his response. He guessed what Pook
was getting at, and it was easy for him to figure out that Oberon must have
informed the guildmaster of more than his return with Regis. He made a mental
note to visit the wizard the next time he was in Baldur's Gate, to explain to
Oberon the proper limits of spying and the proper restraints of loyalty. No one
ever crossed Artemis Entreri twice.
"It does not matter," Pook said, seeing no answer forthcoming. "They will
bother us no more."
Regis felt sick. This was the southland, the home of Pasha Pook. If Pook had
learned of his friends' pursuit, he certainly could have eliminated them.
Entreri understood that, too. He fought to maintain his calm while a burning
rage reared up inside him. "I tend to my own affairs," he growled at Pook, his
tone confirming to the guildmaster that he had indeed been playing a private
game with his pursuers.
"And I to mine!" Pook shot back, straightening in his chair. "I know not
what connection this elf and barbarian hold to you, Entreri, but they have
nothing to do with my pendant!" He collected himself quickly and sat back,
realizing that the confrontation was getting too dangerous to continue. "I could
not take the risk."
The tension eased out of Entreri's taut muscles. He did not wish a war with
Pook and he could not change what was past. "How?" he asked.
"Pirates," Pook replied. "Pinochet owed me a favor."
"It is confirmed?"
"Why do you care?" Pook asked. "You are here. The halfling is here. My pen-"
He stopped suddenly, realizing that he hadn't yet seen the ruby pendant.
Now it was Pook's turn to sweat and wonder. "It is confirmed?" Entreri asked
again, making no move toward the magical pendant that hung, concealed, about his
neck.
"Not yet," Pook stammered, "but three ships were sent after the one. There
can be no doubt."
Entreri hid his smile. He knew the powerful drow and barbarian well enough
to consider them alive until their bodies had been paraded before him. "Yes,
there can indeed be doubt," he whispered under his breath as he pulled the ruby
pendant over his head and tossed it to the guildmaster.
Pook caught it in trembling hands, knowing immediately from its familiar
tingle that it was the true gem. What power he would wield now! With the magical
ruby in his hands, Artemis Entreri returned to his side, and Rassiter's wererats
under his command, he would be unstoppable!
LaValle put a steadying hand on the guildmaster's shoulder. Pook, beaming in
anticipation of his growing power, looked up at him.
"Your reward shall be as promised," Pook said again to Entreri as soon as he
had caught his breath. "And more!"
Entreri bowed. "Well met, then, Pasha Pook," he replied. "It is good to be
home."
"Concerning the elf and barbarian," Pook said, suddenly entertaining second
