Dahlia twisted and strained, struggling to free up one arm. But then she settled, knowing she could not hope to defend herself.
The sword was close.
Dahlia stared the small, cold man in the eye, trying to discern his intent.
The sword came in at the side of her neck and she stiffened and held her breath. But Entreri began to cut the webbing away.
“I am truly touched,” she said sarcastically after she had recovered from the shock.
“Shut up,” Entreri said as he continued freeing her.
“Are you embarrassed by your concern for me?” the elf woman quipped.
“Concern?”
“You’re here, against your master’s allies,” Dahlia reasoned.
“Because I hate him more than I hate you,” Entreri was quick to reply. “Do not presume that such thoughts shine brightly upon you.”
His last words were lost in the rumble of a low and threatening growl, and Entreri froze, and Dahlia smiled-she could see six hundred pounds of musclerippled panther crouching right behind him.
“You have met my friend Guenhwyvar, no doubt?” she asked with a grin.
Artemis Entreri didn’t move.
“Hold!” came a call from the side, as Drizzt Do’Urden, limping only slightly, came over the ridge. Whether he was speaking to Entreri or Guenhwyvar, neither Dahlia nor Entreri could be sure.
Both, likely.
Entreri dismissed the drow with a snicker and drove his sword down halfway to the ground, greatly loosening the bindings on Dahlia.
“A change of heart?” Drizzt asked when he came beside the pair. Dahlia extracted herself from the webs. Behind Entreri, Guenhwyvar remained poised to leap upon the small man.
“Easy, Guen,” Drizzt prompted the cat, and her ears came up.
“Why have you returned?” Dahlia asked Entreri as she continued to pull strands from her clothing. She wasn’t feeling particularly generous, and didn’t much like being rescued. She intended to push Artemis Entreri, and hopefully to push him far away.
When he didn’t immediately answer her question, Dahlia stopped plucking the webs. Her question had struck him hard, obviously. She was caught by surprise, for she had never expected to see him in such a pensive pose.
“Why?” she asked again, sharply and loudly, but only to pull the man from his apparent introspection.
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
Dahlia felt Drizzt’s gaze upon her and glanced his way. His visage was cold, as if chastising her for going after Entreri so bluntly. The man had just saved her life, after all. She offered a shrug.
“Well, why did you leave us, then?” Dahlia asked, a bit more cordially.
“Herzgo Alegni carries my old sword,” Entreri replied. “My old sword, sentient and telepathic, can learn things from me. Being with you endangered you, and while I care not a whit for the lives of either of you, I do not wish for you to fail in your quest.”
“And yet, despite your words, here you are, endangering us.”
“I know your intent,” Entreri replied. “Being closer to Alegni makes it more likely that he will learn of your intentions from me.”
“So we should just kill you,” said Dahlia, and she kept any hint of humor out of her voice.
“You will die first,” Entreri promised.
Drizzt stepped between them. Only then did Dahlia realize that she and Entreri had begun drifting together, face to face, unblinking.
“I thought to simply go away, though I could not escape Alegni if I fled Faerun itself,” Entreri explained.
“And you just happened upon us?” Drizzt asked.
Entreri shook his head. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to help you before Alegni-before my old sword-lays me low on the street,” he admitted. “And yet, here I am,” he added, looking around at the dead Shadovar, “helping you on your way. Alegni and Charon’s Claw did not hinder my blade as I struck at your enemies, whom I would have to presume serve as his allies.”
He looked Drizzt directly in the eye, and Dahlia noted that they shared something, some long and deep bond and obvious respect.
“I’m not going back to serve him,” Entreri stated flatly. “There is no amount of pain, no amount of torture, that will put me beside Herzgo Alegni.”
To her surprise, Dahlia realized that she believed him-not only that he intended as he said, but also that this grayish man was possessed of inner power great enough to do as he had just claimed.
She stepped back and let Drizzt and Entreri have their conversation, and caught only a few snips of the dialogue, as Entreri admitted that his mere presence with them might well have compromised any hope of secrecy they might harbor, or that this attack might have been directed to this place and against them because of his previous proximity to them.
Dahlia knew from his responses and body language that Drizzt would accept Entreri as a companion on this mission, and when she let down her own stubbornness, she realized that if Drizzt did not, she would insist. She focused mostly on Entreri then, staring at him, understanding him.
She saw the pain.
She knew that pain.
“An interesting dilemma,” Drizzt said to Dahlia a short while later. In the distance, they could see Entreri gathering firewood, as they had agreed.
“You doubt his sincerity?”
“Strangely, no,” said Drizzt. “I have known this man for many years-”
“Yet, you have not known of him for many years,” Dahlia was quick to point out.
“True enough.” Drizzt nodded in deference to her obvious logic. “But in our time together, I came to know who he truly was. I saw him emotionally stripped naked in Menzoberranzan, raw and unprotected. He is many things-including many heinous traits that I cannot abide-but in a strange way, there is honor in Artemis Entreri, and there always has been.” As he spoke the words, Drizzt thought about that first encounter with the assassin, when Entreri had held Catti-brie captive for days. Helpless and at his mercy-and yet the assassin had shown her great mercy in that time.
But there were other times, when Entreri had not been so kind, Drizzt thought, and he remembered a halfling’s finger…
He looked away from Dahlia, to Entreri-a confusing link to a distant past.
“He won’t willingly betray us,” Dahlia said, and Drizzt spun back on her. “He hates Herzgo Alegni as I do.”
“Why?” Drizzt asked.
Dahlia looked at him curiously.
“Why do you hate Herzgo Alegni?” Drizzt almost fell back a step as Dahlia’s face tightened. She spat on the ground at Drizzt’s feet.
“So you believe Entreri will not willingly betray us, and I agree,” Drizzt said quickly, thinking it wise to change the subject. “But what about unwillingly? He has already admitted that his mere presence with us might well have tipped Alegni off to our intentions. The sword holds him, and seems to know his every thought.”
Dahlia turned her gaze to the distant Entreri, and slowly shook her head. “It cannot,” she said, and she seemed to be speaking more to herself than to Drizzt. “Sentient weapons do not hold such power.”
“It enslaves him.”
“It feels his intentions, his anger, his move to action,” Dahlia replied. “That is a different matter. The sword reacts to his impulses, as Kozah’s Needle heeds my call, and it is powerful enough because of their long history to overrule his demands.”
“You cannot know that."
“As you cannot know that your fear is well founded,” Dahlia said. “Artemis Entreri did not lead those Shadovar to us, as he was near Neverwinter while they were out on the hunt. Perhaps his presence with us allowed his sword to understand the general course of our intent, but perhaps not nearly as specifically as you believe-else why would he have been allowed to get so near to Neverwinter without a host of Alegni’s guards falling over him? The sword does not know his every thought and every move. I cannot believe that, particularly when he and the sword are not near each other. It’s a sword, not a god!”