forced upon you."
"A sacrifice that has become all too familiar to me."
"I know," Alustriel whispered. "We learned from Nesme that you had been
turned away, a scenario that you commonly face."
"I expect it," Drizzt said coldly.
"But not here," Alustriel retorted. "You did not expect it from
Silverymoon, nor should you have."
Her sensitivity touched Drizzt. His anger died away as he awaited her
explanation, certain now that the woman had good cause for her actions.
"There are many forces at work here that do not concern you, and should
not," she began. "Threats of war and secret alliances; rumors and
suspicions that have no basis in fact, nor would make any sense to
reasonable people. I am no great friend to the merchants, though they
freely pass through Silverymoon. They fear our ideas and ideals as a threat
to their structures of power, as well they should. They are very powerful,
and would see Silverymoon more akin to their own views.
"But enough of this talk. As I said, it does not concern you. All that
I ask you to understand is that, as leader of my city, I am forced at times
to act for the overall good, whatever the cost to an individual."
"You fear the lies and suspicions that might befall you if a black elf
walks freely in Silverymoon?" Drizzt sighed incredulously. "Simply allowing
a drow to walk among your people would implicate you in some devious
alliance with the underworld?"
"You are not just any drow elf," Alustriel explained. "You are Drizzt
Do'Urden, a name that is destined to be heard throughout the Realms. For
now, though, you are a drow who is fast becoming visible to the northern
rulers, and, initially at least, they will not understand that you have
forsaken your people.
"And this tale gets more complicated, it seems," Alustriel continued.
"Know you that I have two sisters?"
Drizzt shook his head.
"Storm, a bard of reknown, and Dove Falconhand, a ranger. Both have
taken an interest in the name of Drizzt Do'Urden - Storm as a growing
legend in need of proper song, and Dove . . . I have yet to discern her
motives. You have become a hero to her, I think, the epitome of those
qualities that she, as a fellow ranger, strives to perfect. She came into
the city just this morn, and knew of your impending arrival.
"Dove is many years younger than I," Alustriel went on. "And not so
wise in the politics of the world."
"She might have sought me out," Drizzt reasoned, seeing the
implications that Alustriel feared.
"She will, eventually," the lady answered. "But I cannot allow it now,
not in Silverymoon." Alustriel stared at him intently, her gaze hinting at
deeper and more personal emotions. "And moreso, I myself would have sought
audience with you, as I do now."
The implications of such a meeting within the city seemed obvious to
Drizzt in light of the political struggles that Alustriel had hinted at.
"Another time, another place perhaps," he queried. "Would it bother you so
much?"
She replied with a smile. "Not at all."
Satisfaction and trepidation descended upon Drizzt all at once. He
looked back to the stars, wondering if he would ever completely discover
the truth about his decision to come to the surface world, or if his life
would forever remain a tumult of dangled hope and shattered expectations. -
They stood in silence for several moments before Alustriel spoke again.
"You came for the Vault of Sages," she said, "to discover if anything
in there spoke of Mithril Hall."
"I urged the dwarf to go in," Drizzt answered. "But he is a stubborn
one."
"I assumed as much," laughed Alustriel. "But I did not want my actions
to interfere with your most noble quest. I have perused the vault myself.
You cannot imagine its size! You would not have known where to begin your
search of the thousands of volumes that line the walls. But I know the
vault as well as anyone alive. I have learned things that would have taken
you and your friends weeks to find. But truthfully, very little has been
written about Mithril Hall, and nothing at all that gives more than a
passing hint about the general area where it lies."
"Then perhaps we are the better for being turned away."
Alustriel blushed in embarrassment, though Drizzt meant no sarcasm in
his observation. "My guards have informed me that you plan to move on to
Sundabar," the lady said.
"True," answered Drizzt, "and from there to Citadel Adbar if need be."
"I advise you against this course," said Alustriel. "From everything
that I could find in the vault, and from my own knowledge of the legends of
the days when treasures flowed from Mithril Hall, my guess is that it lies
in the west, not the east."
"We have come from the west, and our trail, seeking those with
knowledge of the silvery halls, has led us continually eastward," Drizzt
countered. "Beyond Silverymoon, the only hopes we have are Helm and
Harbromm, both in the east."
"Helm may have something to tell you," Alustriel agreed. "But you will
learn little from King Harbromm and the dwarves of Adbar. They themselves
undertook the quest to find the ancient homeland of Bruenor's kin just a
few years ago, and they passed through Silverymoon on their journey -
heading west. But they never found the place, and returned home convinced
that it was either destroyed and buried deep in some unmarked mountain, or
that it had never existed and was simply the ruse of southern merchants
dealing their goods in the northland."
"You do not offer much hope," Drizzt remarked.
"But I do," Alustriel countered. "To the west of here, less than a
day's march, along an unmarked path running north from the Rauvin, lies the
Herald's Holdfast, an ancient bastion of accumulated knowledge. The herald,
Old Night, can guide you, if anyone can in this day. I have informed him of
your coming and he has agreed to sit with you, though he has not
entertained visitors for decades, other than myself and a few select
scholars."
"We are in your debt," said Drizzt, bowing low.
"Do not hope for too much," Alustriel warned. "Mithril Hall came and
went in the knowledge of this world in the flash of an eye. Barely three
generations of dwarves ever mined the place, though I grant you that a
dwarven generation is a considerable amount of time, and they were not so
open with their trade. Only rarely did they allow anyone to their mines, if
the tales are true. They brought out their works in the dark of night and
fed them through a secret and intricate chain of dwarven agents to be
brought to market."
"They protected themselves well from the greed of the outside world,"
Drizzt observed.
"But their demise came from within the mines," said Alustriel. "An
unknown danger that may lurk there still, you are aware."
Drizzt nodded.
"And still you choose to go?"
"I care not for the treasures, though if they are indeed as splendid as
Bruenor describes, then I would wish to look upon them. But this is the
dwarf's search, his great adventure, and I would be a sorry friend indeed
if I did not help him to see it through."
"Hardly could that label be mantled upon your neck, Drizzt Do'Urden,"
Alustriel said. She pulled a small vial from a fold in her gown. "Take this
with you," she instructed.
"What is it?"
"A potion of remembrance," Alustriel explained. "Give it to the dwarf
when the answers to your search seem near at hand. But beware, its powers
are strong! Bruenor will walk for a time in the memories of his distant
past as well as the experiences of his present.
"And these," she said, producing a small pouch from the same fold and
handing it to Drizzt, "are for all of you. Unguent to help wounds to heal,
and biscuits that refresh a weary traveler."
"My thanks and the thanks of my friends," said Drizzt.
"In light of the terrible injustice that I have forced upon you, they
are little recompense."
"But the concern of their giver was no small gift," Drizzt replied. He
looked straight into her eyes, holding her with his intensity. "You have
renewed my hope, Lady of Silverymoon. You have reminded me that there is
indeed reward for those who follow the path of conscience, a treasure far
greater than the material baubles that too often come to unjust men."
"There is, indeed," she agreed. "And your future will show you many
more, proud ranger. But now the night is half gone and you must rest. Fear
not, for you are watched this night. Farewell, Drizzt Do'Urden, and may the
road before you be swift and clear."
With a wave of her hand, she faded into the starlight, leaving Drizzt
to wonder if he had dreamed the whole encounter. But then her final words
drifted down to him on the gentle breeze. "Farewell, and keep heart, Drizzt
Do'Urden. Your honor and courage do not go unnoticed!"
Drizzt stood silently for a long while. He bent low and picked a
wildflower from the riverbank, rolling it over between his fingers and
wondering if he and the Lady of Silverymoon might indeed meet again on more
accommodating terms. And where such a meeting might lead.
Then he tossed the flower into the Rauvin.
"Let events take their own course," he said resolutely, looking back to
the camp and his closest friends. "I need no fantasies to belittle the
great treasures that I already possess." He took a deep breath to blow away
the remnants of his self-pity.
And with his faith restored, the stoic ranger went to sleep.
15
The Golem's Eyes
Drizzt had little trouble convincing Bruenor to reverse their course
and head back to the west. While the dwarf was anxious to get to Sundabar
and find out what Helm might know, the possibility of valuable information
less than a day away set him off and running.
As to how he had come by the information, Drizzt offered little
explanation, saying only that he had met up with a lone traveler on the
road to Silverymoon during the night. Though the story sounded contrived to
them, his friends, respecting his privacy and trusting him fully, did not
question him about it. When they ate breakfast, though, Regis hoped that
more information would be forthcoming, for the biscuits that this traveler
had given to Drizzt were truly delicious and incredibly refreshing. After
only a few bites, the halfling felt as if he had spent a week at rest. And
the magic salve immediately healed Wulfgar's injured leg and back, and he
walked without a cane for the first time since they had left the Evermoors.
Wulfgar suspected that Drizzt's encounter had involved someone of great
importance long before the drow revealed the marvelous gifts. For the
drow's inner glow of optimism, the knowing sparkle in his eyes that
reflected the indomitable spirit that had kept him going through trials
that would have crushed most men, had returned, fully and dramatically. The
barbarian didn't need to know the identity of the person; he was just glad
that his friend had come through the depression.
When they moved out later that morning, they seemed more a party just
beginning an adventure than a road-weary band. Whistling and talking, they
followed the flow of the Rauvin on its westerly course. For all of the
close calls, they had come through the brutal march relatively unscathed
and, it appeared, had made good progress toward their goal. The summer sun
shone down upon them and all the pieces of the puzzle of Mithril Hall
seemed to be within their grasp.
They could not have guessed that murderous eyes were upon them.
From the foothills north of the Rauvin, high above the travelers, the
golem sensed the drow elf's passing. Following the tug of magic spells of
seeking that Dendybar had bestowed upon it, Bok soon looked down upon the
band as they moved across the trail. Without hesitation the monster obeyed
its directives and started out to find Sydney.
Bok tossed aside a boulder that lay in its path, then climbed over
another that was too big to move, not understanding the advantages of
simply walking around the stones. Bok's path was clearly set and the
monster refused to deviate from that course by an inch.
"He is a big one!" chuckled one of the guards at the post on the Rauvin
when he saw Bok across the clearing. Even as the words left his mouth,
though, the guard realized the impending, danger - that this was no
ordinary traveler!
Courageously, he rushed out to meet the golem headon, his sword drawn
and his companion close behind.
Transfixed by his goal, Bok paid no heed to their warnings.
"Hold where you are!" the soldier commanded one final time as Bok
covered the last few feet between them.
The golem did not know emotion, so it bore no anger toward the guards
as they struck. They stood to block the way, though, and Bok swatted them
aside without a second thought, the incredible force of its magically
strong arms blasting through their parrying defenses and launching them
through the air. Without even a pause, the golem continued on to the river
and did not slow, disappearing under the rushing waters.
Alarms rang out in the city, for the soldiers at the gate across the
river saw the spectacle at the guard post. The huge gates were drawn tight
and secured as the Knights of Silver watched the Rauvin for the
