home.
Entreri could see that his pack had been searched, but he recognised
the furred uniform and knew that this man was no thief. "We are beyond the
borders of your city," he said, holding his knife steady. "What business
have you in my camp, soldier of Luskan?"
"I am Jierdan of the north gate," he replied. "I have come to meet a
rider from Icewind Dale."
"What rider?"
"You."
Entreri was perplexed and uncomfortable with the soldier's response.
Who had sent this man, and how had he known where to look? The assassin's
first thoughts centered on Regis's party. Perhaps the halfling had arranged
for some help from the city guard. Entreri slipped his knife back info its
sheath, certain that he could retrieve it in time to foil any attack.
Jierdan understood the calm confidence of the act as well, and any
thoughts that he might have had for striking at this man flew from him. "My
master, desires your audience," he said, thinking it wise to explain
himself more completely. "A meeting to your mutual benefit."
"Your master?" asked Entreri.
"A citizen of high standing," Jierdan explained. "He has heard of your
coming and believes that he may help with your quest."
"What does he know of my business?" Entreri snapped, angered that
someone had dared to spy on him. But he was relieved, too, for the
involvement of some other power structure within the city explained much,
and possibly eliminated the logical assumption that the halfling was behind
this meeting.
Jierdan shrugged. "I am merely his courier. But I, too, can be of
assistance to you. At the gate."
"Damn the gate," Entreri snarled. "I'll take the wall easily enough. It
is a more direct route to the places I seek."
"Even so, I know of those places, and of the people who control them."
The knife leaped back out, cutting in and stopping just before
Jierdan's throat. "You know much, but you explain little. You play
dangerous games, soldier of Luskan."
Jierdan didn't blink. "Four heroes from Ten-Towns came into Luskan five
days ago: a dwarf, a halfling, a barbarian, and a black elf." Even Artemis
Entreri couldn't hide a hint of excitement at the confirmation of his
suspicions, and Jierdan noted the signs. "Their exact location escapes me,
but I know the area where they are hiding. Are you interested?"
The knife returned again to its sheath. "Wait here," Entreri
instructed. "I have a companion who shall travel with us."
"My master said that you rode alone," Jierdan queried.
Entreri's vile grin sent a shiver through the soldier's spine. "I
acquired her," he explained. "She is mine and that is all that you ever
need to know."
Jierdan didn't press the point. His sigh of relief was audible when
Entreri had disappeared from sight.
Catti-brie rode to Luskan untied and ungagged, but Entreri's hold upon
her was no less binding. His warning to her when he had retrieved her in
the field had been succinct and undeniable. "A foolish move," he had said,
and you die. And you die with the knowledge that the dwarf, Bruenor, shall
suffer for your insolence."
The assassin had told Jierdan no more about her, and the soldier didn't
ask, though the woman intrigued him more than a little. Dendybar would get
the answers, Jierdan knew.
They moved into the city later that morning, under the suspicious eye
of the Daykeeper of the North Gate. It had cost Jierdan a week's pay to
bribe them through, and the soldier knew he would owe even more when he
returned that night, for the original deal with the Daykeeper allowed the
passage of one outsider; nothing had been said about the woman. But if
Jierdan's actions brought him Dendybar's favor, then they would be well
worth the price.
According to the city code, the three gave up their horses at the
stable just inside the wall, and Jierdan led Entreri and Catti-brie through
the streets of the City of Sails, past the sleepy-eyed merchants and
vendors who had been out since before dawn and into the very heart of the
city.
The assassin was not surprised an hour later when they came upon a long
grove of thick pine trees. He had suspected that Jierdan was somehow
connected to this place. They passed through a break in the line and stood
before the tallest structure in the city, the Hosttower of the Arcane.
"Who is your master?" Entreri asked bluntly.
Jierdan chuckled, his nerve bolstered by the sight of Dendybar's tower.
"You shall meet him soon enough."
"I shall know now," Entreri growled. "Dr our meeting is ended. I am in
the city, soldier, and I do not require your assistance any longer."
"I could have the guards expel you," Jierdan shot back. "Or worse!"
But Entreri had the last word. "They would never find the remains of
your body," he promised, the cold certainty of his tone draining the blood
from Jierdan's face.
Catti-brie noted the exchange with more than a passing concern for the
soldier, wondering if the time might soon come when she could exploit the
untrusting nature of her captors to her own advantage.
"I serve Dendybar the Mottled, Master of the North Spire," Jierdan
declared, drawing further strength from the mention of his powerful
mentor's name.
Entreri had heard the name before. The Hosttower was a common topic of
the whisperings all around Luskan and the surrounding countryside, and the
name of Dendybar the Mottled came up often in conversation, describing the
wizard as an ambitious power seeker in the tower, and hinting at a dark and
sinister side of the man that allowed him to get what he wanted. He was
dangerous, but potentially a powerful ally. Entreri was pleased. "Take me
to him now," he told Jierdan. "Let us discover if we have business or no."
Sydney was waiting to escort them from the entryroom of the Hosttower.
Offering no introduction, and asking for none, she led them through the
twisting passages and secret doors to the audience hall of Dendybar the
Mottled. The wizard waited there in grand style, wearing his finest robes
and with a fabulous luncheon set before him.
"Greetings, rider," Dendybar said after the necessary, yet
uncomfortable, moments of silence when each of the parties sized up the
other. "I am Dendybar the Mottled, as you are already aware. Will you and
your lovely companion partake of my table?"
His raspy voice grated on Catti-brie's nerves, and though she hadn't
eaten since the supper the day before, she had no appetite for this man's
hospitality.
Entreri shoved her forward. "Eat," he commanded.
She knew that Entreri was testing both her and the wizards. But it was
time for her to test Entreri as well. "No," she answered, looking him
straight in the eye.
His backhand knocked her to the floor. Jierdan and Sydney started
reflexively, but seeing no help forthcoming from Dendybar, quickly stopped
and settled back to watch. Catti-brie moved away from the killer and
remained in a defensive crouch.
Dendybar smiled at the assassin. "You have answered some of my
questions about the girl," he said with an amused smile. "What purpose does
she serve?"
"I have my reasons," was all that Entreri replied.
"Of course. And might I learn your name?"
Entreri's expression did not change.
"You seek the four companions from Ten-Towns, I know," Dendybar
continued, having no desire to bandy the issue. "I seek them, as well, but
for different reasons, I am sure."
"You know nothing of my, reasons," Entreri replied.
"Nor do I care," laughed the wizard. "We can help each other to our
separate goals. That is all that interests me."
"I ask for no help."
Dendybar laughed again. "They are a mighty force, rider. You
underestimate them."
"Perhaps," replied Entreri. "But you have asked my purpose, yet have
not offered your own. What business does the Hosttower have with travelers
from Ten-Towns?"
"Fairly asked," answered Dendybar. "But I should wait until we have
formalized an agreement before rendering an answer."
"Then I shan't sleep well for worry," Entreri spat.
Again the wizard laughed. "You may change your mind before this is
finished," he said. "For now I offer a sign of good faith. The companions
are in the city. Dockside. They were to stay in the Cutlass. Do you know
it?"
Entreri nodded, now very interested in the wizard's words.
"But we have lost them in the alleyways of the western city," Dendybar
explained, shooting a glare at Jierdan that made the soldier shift
uneasily.
"And what is the price of this information?" Entreri asked.
"None," replied the wizard. "Telling you helps my own cause. You will
get what you want; what I desire will remain for me."
Entreri smiled, understanding that Dendybar intended to use him as a
hound to sniff out the prey.
"My apprentice will show you out," Dendybar said, motioning to Sydney.
Entreri turned to leave, pausing to meet the gaze of Jierdan. "Ware my
path, soldier," the assassin warned. "Vultures eat after the cat has
feasted!"
"When he has shown me to the drow, I'll have his head," Jierdan growled
when they had gone.
"You shall keep clear of that one," Dendybar instructed.
Jierdan looked at him, puzzled. "Surely you want him watched."
"Surely," agreed Dendybar. "But by Sydney, not you. Keep your anger,"
Dendybar said to him, noting the outraged scowl. "I preserve your life.
Your pride is great, indeed, and you have earned the right. But this one is
beyond your prowess, my friend. His blade would have you before you ever
knew he was there."
Outside, Entreri led Catti-brie away from the Hosttower without a word,
silently replaying and reviewing the meeting, for he knew that he had not
seen the last of Dendybar and his cohorts.
Catti-brie was glad of the silence, too, engulfed in her own
contemplations. Why would a wizard of the Hosttower be looking for Bruenor
and the others? Revenge for Akar Kessell, the mad wizard that her friends
had helped defeat before the last winter? She looked back to the treelike
structure, and to the killer at her side, amazed and horrified at the
attention her friends had brought upon themselves.
Then she looked into her own heart, reviving her spirit and her
courage. Drizzt, Bruenor, Wulfgar, and Regis were going to need her help
before this was all over. She must not fail them.
Book 2:
Allies
8
To the Peril of Low-Flying Birds
The companions broke out of the twists and dips of the crags later in
the afternoon, to their absolute relief. It had taken them some time to
round up their mounts after the encounter with the Pegasus, particularly
the halfling's pony, which had bolted early in the fight when Regis had
gone down. In truth, the pony would not be ridden again, anyway; it was too
skittish and Regis was in no condition to ride. But Drizzt had insisted
that both horses and both ponies be found, reminding his companions of
their responsibility to the farmers, especially considering the way they
had appropriated the beasts.
Regis now sat before Wulfgar on the barbarian's stallion, leading the
way with his pony tied behind and Drizzt and Bruenor a short distance back,
guarding the rear. Wulfgar kept his great arms close around the halfling,
his protective hold secure enough to allow Regis some much-needed sleep.
"Keep the setting sun at our backs," Drizzt instructed the barbarian.
Wulfgar called out his acknowledgement and looked back to confirm his
bearings.
"Rumblebelly couldn't find a safer place in all the Realms," Bruenor
remarked to the drow.
Drizzt smiled. "Wulfgar has done well."
"Aye," the dwarf agreed, obviously pleased. "Although I be wondering
how much longer I can keep to callin' him a boy! Ye should have seen the
Cutlass, elf," the dwarf chuckled. "A boatload of pirates who'd been seeing
naught but the sea for a year and a day couldn't've done more wrecking!"
"When we left the dale, I worried if Wulfgar was ready for the many
societies of this wide world," replied Drizzt. "Now I worry that the world
may not be ready for him. You should be proud."
"Ye've had as much a hand in him as meself," said Bruenor. "He's me
boy, elf, surer'n if I'd sired him meself. Not a thought to his own fears
on the field back there. Ne'er have I viewed such courage in a human as
when ye'd gone to the other plane. He waited - he hoped, I tell ye! - for
the wretched beast to come back so he could get a good swing in to avenge
the hurt to meself and the halfling."
Drizzt enjoyed this rare moment of vulnerability from the dwarf. A few
times before, he had seen Bruenor drop his callous facade, back on the
climb in Icewind Dale when the dwarf thought of Mithril Hall and the
wondrous memories of his childhood.
"Aye, I'm proud," Bruenor continued. "And I'm finding meself willing to
follow his lead and trust in his choices."
Drizzt could only agree, having come to the same conclusions many
