"Harkle will try to help," Catti-brie replied.
"Pray hard," Robillard muttered and walked away.
"You should be more careful of what you say," Drizzt remarked to Catti-brie.
"Could have been yer own voice just as well as me own," the young woman shot back. "And besides, Harkle did try to help in the fight."
"It could as easily have been us he engulfed, in stream or in fire," Drizzt promptly reminded her.
Catti-brie sighed and had no words to reply. They turned to the door of Deudermont's cabin, where the captain stood with Harkle, about to enter.
"So that was the fog of fate you cast at our pirate friends, eh?" Deudermont asked, trying to sound impressed.
"Huh?" Harkle answered. "That? Oh, no, no, that was a fireball. I am good at casting those!" The Harpell paused and lowered his eyes, following Deudermont inside. "Except that I aimed too low," Harkle admitted quietly.
Catti-brie and Drizzt looked to each other, then to Robillard. "Pray," all three whispered in unison.
*****
Drizzt and Catti-brie dined privately with Deudermont that night, the captain seeming more animated than he had since they had put out from Waterdeep. The two friends tried to apologize for Harkle's arrival several times, but Deudermont brushed such thoughts away, even hinted that he was not so upset about the Harpell's arrival.
Finally Deudermont sat back in his chair, wiped his neatly-groomed goatee with a satin napkin and stared hard at the two friends, who fell silent, understanding that the captain had something important to tell them.
"We are not in this area by chance," Deudermont admitted bluntly.
"And not going to Baldur's Gate," reasoned Drizzt, who had suspected all along. The Sea Sprite was supposedly running to Baldur's Gate, but Deudermont hadn't been careful about staying close to the coast, the more direct route, the safer route, and the route most likely to allow them to find and capture pirates.
Again there ensued a long pause, as though the captain had to settle things in his own mind before admitting them openly. "We're turning west for Mintarn," Deudermont said.
Catti-brie's jaw dropped open.
"A free port," Drizzt reminded, and warned. The island of Mintarn had a well-earned reputation as a haven for pirates and other fugitives, a rough and tumble place. How might the Sea Sprite, the hunter of justice, be received in such a port?
"A free port," Deudermont agreed. "Free for pirates and free for the Sea Sprite, in need of information."
Drizzt didn't openly question the captain, but his doubting expression spoke volumes.
"The Lords of Waterdeep have given the Sea Sprite over to me completely," Deudermont said, somewhat harshly. "She's my ship, under my word alone. I can take her to Mintarn, to the Moonshaes, all the way to Ruathym, if I so please, and let no one question me!"
Drizzt sat back in his seat, stung by the harsh words and surprised that Deudermont, who had professed to be his friend, had so treated him as a subordinate.
The captain winced openly at the sight of the drow's disappointment. "My pardon," he said quietly.
Drizzt came forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on the table to bring himself closer to Deudermont. "Caerwich?" he asked.
Deudermont eyed him directly. "The doppleganger spoke of Caerwich, and so to Caerwich I must go."
"And do ye not think ye'll be sailing right into a trap?" Catti-brie put in. "Going right where they're wanting ye to go?"
"Who?" Deudermont asked.
"Whoever sent the doppleganger," Catti-brie reasoned.
"Who?" Deudermont asked again.
Catti-brie shrugged. "Pinochet?" she queried. "Or mighten it be some other pirate that's had his fill o' the Sea Sprite?"
Deudermont leaned back in his seat again, as did Drizzt, all three sitting in silence for several long moments. "I cannot, nor do I believe that you can, continue to sail up and down the Sword Coast as though nothing at all has happened," the captain explained. Drizzt closed his lavender eyes, expecting this answer and agreeing with the logic. "Someone powerful, for doppleganger hirelings are neither common nor cheap, desires my demise and the end of the Sea Sprite, and I intend to find out who it might be. I've never run from a fight, nor has my crew, and any who are not prepared to go to Caerwich may disembark in Mintarn and catch a sail back to Waterdeep, paid by my own coffers."
"Not a one will go," Catti-brie admitted.
"Yet we do not even know if Caerwich truly exists," Drizzt remarked. "Many claim to have been there, but these are the tales of seagoing men, tales too often exaggerated by drink or by bluster."
"So we must find out," Deudermont said with a tone of finality. Neither Drizzt nor Catti-brie, both willing to face trouble head-on, offered a word of disagreement. "Perhaps it is not such a bad thing that your wizard friend arrived," the captain went on. "Another wizard knowledgeable in the mystical arts might help us to sort through this mystery."
Catti-brie and Drizzt exchanged doubtful looks; Captain Deudermont obviously didn't know Harkle Harpell! They said no more about it, though, and finished the meal discussing more pertinent matters of the everyday handling of the ship and crew. Deudermont wanted to go to Mintarn, so Drizzt and Catti-brie would follow.
After the meal, the two friends strolled out onto the nearly-deserted deck of the schooner, walking under a canopy of brilliant stars.
"Ye were relieved at the captain's tale," Catti-brie remarked.
After a moment of surprise, Drizzt nodded.
"Ye thought the attack in Waterdeep had to do with yerself, and not with Deudermont or the Sea Sprite," Catti-brie went on.
The drow simply stood and listened, for, as usual, the perceptive young woman had hit his feelings exactly, had read him like an open book.
"Ye'll always be fearing that every danger comes from yer home," Catti-brie said, moving to the rail and looking over at the reflection of the stars in the rolling waters.
"I have made many enemies," Drizzt replied as he joined her.
"Ye've left them buried in yer tracks," Catti-brie said with a laugh.
Drizzt shared in that chuckle, and had to admit that she was right. This time, he believed, it wasn't about him. For several years now, he had been a player in the larger drama of the world. The personal element of the danger that had followed him every step since his initial departure from Menzoberranzan seemed a thing of the past. Now, under the stars and with Catti-brie beside him, thousands of miles and many years from Menzoberranzan, Drizzt Do'Urden felt truly free, and carefree. He did not fear the trip to Mintarn, or to any mysterious island beyond that, whatever the rumors of haunts might be. Never did Drizzt Do'Urden fear danger. He lived on the edge willingly, and if Deudermont was in trouble, then Drizzt was more than ready to take up his scimitars.
As was Catti-brie, with her bow, Taulmaril, and the magnificent sword, Khazid'hea, always ready at her hip. As was Guenhwyvar, ever-faithful companion. Drizzt did not fear danger; only guilt could bend his stoic shoulders. This time, it seemed, he carried no guilt, no responsibility for the attack and for the Sea Sprite's chosen course. He was a player in Deudermont's drama, a willing player.
He and Catti-brie basked in the wind and the spray, watched the stars silently for hours.
Chapter 6 THE NOMADS
Kierstaad, son of Revjak, knelt on the soft turf, his knee pocking the ground. He was not tall by the standards of the Icewind Dale nomads, barely topping six feet, and was not as muscular as most. His hair was long and blond, his eyes the color of the sky on the brightest of days, and his smile, on those rare occasions that he displayed it, beamed from a warm soul.