If Robillard was the least bit intimidated by the barbarian, he never once showed it.
“You did this to me,” Wulfgar remarked.
“Did what?”
“Your words put me here, not those of Captain Deudermont, Wulfgar clarified. “You did this.”
“No, dear Wulfgar,” Robillard said venomously. “You did.”
Wulfgar lifted his chin, his stare defiant.
“In the face of a potentially difficult battle, Captain Deudermont had no choice but to relegate you to this place,” the wizard was happy to explain. “Your own insolence and independence demanded nothing less of him. Do you think we would risk losing crewmen to satisfy your unbridled rage and high opinion of yourself?”
Wulfgar shifted forward and went up to his feet, into a crouch as if he meant to spring out and throttle the wizard.
“For what else but such an opinion, unless it is sheer stupidity itself, could possibly have guided your actions in the last battles?” Robillard went on, seeming hardly impressed or nervous. “We are a team, well-disciplined and each with a role to play. When one does not play his prescribed part, then we are a weakened team, working in spite of each other instead of in unison. That we can not tolerate. Not from you, not from anyone. So spare me your insults, your accusations and your empty threats, or you may find yourself swimming.”
Wulfgar's eyes did widen a bit, betraying his intentionally stoic posture and stare.
“And I assure you, we are a long way from land,” Robillard finished, and he started up the ladder. He paused, though, and looked back to Wulfgar. “If you did not enjoy this day's battle, then perhaps you would be wise to remain behind after our next docking in Waterdeep.
“Yes, perhaps that would be the best course,” Robillard went on after a pause, after assuming a pensive posture. “Go back to the land, Wulfgar. You do not belong here.”
The wizard left, but Wulfgar did not start after him. Rather, the barbarian slumped back to the wall, sliding to a sitting position once again, thinking of who he once had been, of who he now was—an awful truth he did not wish to face.
He couldn't even begin to look ahead, to consider who he wished to become.
Chapter 9 PATHS CROSSING… ALMOST
Le'lorinel stalked down Dollemand Street in Luskan, the elf s stride revealing anxiety and eagerness. The destination was a private apartment, where the elf was to meet with a representative of Sheila Kree. It all seemed to be falling into place now, the road to Drizzt Do'Urden, the road to justice. The elf stopped abruptly and wheeled about as two cloaked figures came out of an alley. Hands going to sword and dagger, Le'lorinel had to pause and take a deep breath, recognizing that these two were no threat. They weren't even paying the elf any heed but were simply walking on their way back down the street
in the opposite direction. “Too anxious,” the elf quietly chided, easing the sword and dagger back into their respective sheaths.
With a last look at the pair as they walked away, Le'lorinel gave a laugh and turned back toward the apartment, resuming the march down the road for Drizzt Do'Urden.
* * * * * * * * * *
Walking the other way down Dollemand Street, Drizzt and Catti-brie didn't even notice Le'lorinel as the elf spun on them, thinking them to be a threat. Had Drizzt not been wearing the hood of his cloak, his distinctive long, thick white hair might have marked him clearly for the vengeful elf.
The couple's strides were no less eager than Le'lorinel's, carrying them in the opposite direction, to a meeting with Morik the Rogue and news of Wulfgar. They found the rogue in the appointed place, a back table in Arumn Gardpeck's Cutlass. He smiled at their approach and lifted his foaming mug of beer in toast to them.
“Ye've got our information, then?” Catti-brie asked, sliding into a seat opposite the rogue.
“As much as can be found,” Morik replied. His smile dimmed and he lifted the bag of coins Drizzt had given him to the table. “You might want to take some of it back,” Morik admitted, pushing it out toward the pair.
“We shall see,” Drizzt said, pushing it right back.
Morik shrugged but didn't reach for the bag. “Not much to be learned of Sheila Kree,” he began. “I will be honest with you in saying that I'm not overly fond of even asking anyone about her. The only ones who truly know about her are her many commanders, all of them women, and none of them fond of men. Men who go asking too much about Kree usually wind up dead or running, and I have no desire for either course.”
“But ye said ye did learn a bit,” the eager Catti-brie prompted.
Morik nodded and took a long draw on his beer. “It's been rumored that she operates her own private, secret port somewhere north of Luskan, probably nestled in one of the many coves along the end of the Spine of the World. That would make sense, since she's rarely seen in Luskan of late and has never been known to sail the waters to the south. I don't think her ship has ever been seen in Waterdeep.”
Drizzt looked at Catti-brie, the two sharing silent agreement. They had chased pirates with Deudermont for some time, mostly to the south off the docks of Waterdeep, and neither had ever heard of the pirate, Kree.
“What's her ship's name?” Catti-brie asked.
“Bloody Keel,” Morik replied. “Well-earned name. Sheila takes great enjoyment in keelhauling her victims.” He shuddered visibly and took another drink. “That is all I have,” he finished, and he again pushed the bag of coins back toward Drizzt.
“And more than I expected,” the drow replied, pushing it right back. This time, after a quick pause and a confirming look, Morik took it up and slipped it away.
“There is one more thing,” the rogue said as the couple stood to leave. “From all reports, Sheila has not been seen much of late. It may well be that she is in hiding, knowing Deudermont to be after her.”
“With her reputation and Wulfgar's hammer, don't ye think she'd try to take Sea Sprite on?” Catti-brie asked.
Morik laughed aloud before she ever finished asking the question. “Kree's no fool, and one would have to be a fool to go against Sea Sprite on the open waters. Sea Sprite's got one purpose in being out there, and she and her crew do that task with perfect efficiency. Kree might have the warhammer, but Deudermont's got Robillard, and a nasty one he is! And Deudermont's got Wulfgar. No, Kree's laying low, and wise to be doing so. That might well work to your advantage, though.”
He paused, making sure he had their attention, which he most certainly did.
“Kree knows the waters north of here better than anyone,” Morik explained. “Better than Deudermont, certainly, who spends most of his time to the south. If she's in hiding the good captain will have a hard time finding her. I think it likely that Sea Sprite has many voyages ahead before they ever catch sight of Bloody Keel.”
Again, Drizzt and Catti-brie exchanged curious looks. “Perhaps we should stay put in the city if we wish to find Wulfgar,” the drow offered.
“Sea Sprite doesn't put in to Luskan much anymore,” Morik interjected. “The ship's wizard is not so fond of the Hosttower of the Arcane.”
“And Captain Deudermont has sullied his good name somewhat, has he not?” Catti-brie asked.
Morik's expression showed surprise. “Deudermont and his crew have been the greatest pirate hunters along the Sword Coast for longer than the memories of the eldest elves,” he said.
“In freeing yerself and Wulfgar, I mean,” Catti-brie clarified with an unintentional smirk. “We're hearing his action at Prisoner's Carnival wasn't looked on with favor by the magistrates.”
“Idiots all,” Morik mumbled. “But yes, Deudermont's reputation took a blow that day—the day he acted in the name of justice and not politics. He would have been better off personally in letting them kill us, but. .”
“To his credit, he did not,” Drizzt finished for him.