Entreri retracted the dagger immediately and let the dead man fall to the ground, blood pooling under him, so quickly and so efficiently that Entreri didn't even have a drop of blood on him.
Giunta, laughing, pointed to the end of the ally, back on the street, where the stunned companion of Dog Perry took one look at the victorious Entreri, turned on his heel, and ran away.
"Yes, indeed," Giunta remarked. "Let the word go out on the streets that Artemis Entreri has returned."
Kadran Gordeon spent a long while staring at the dead man. He struck his customary pensive pose, pursing his lips so that his long and curvy mustache tilted on his dark face. He had entertained the idea of going after Entreri himself, and now was quite plainly shocked by the sheer skill of the man. It was Gordeon's first true experience with Entreri, and suddenly he understood that the man had come by his reputation honestly.
But Kadran Gordeon was not Dog Perry, was far more skilled than that young humbler. Perhaps he would indeed pay a visit to this former king of assassins.
"Exquisite," came Sharlotta's voice behind the two. They turned to see the woman staring past them into the image in Giunta's large crystal ball. "Pasha Basadoni told me I would be impressed. How well he moves!"
"Shall I repay the Bodeau guild for breaking the kelp-enwalling order?" Kadran asked.
"Forget them," Sharlotta retorted, moving closer, her eyes twinkling with admiration. "Concentrate our attention upon that one alone. Find him and enlist him. Let us find a job for Artemis Entreri."
Drizzt found Catti-brie sitting on the back lip of the wagon. Regis sat next to her, holding a cloth to her face. Bruenor, axe swinging dangerously at his side, pacing back and forth, grumbled a stream of curses. The drow knew at once what had happened, the simple truth of it anyway, and when he considered it, he was not so surprised that Wulfgar had struck out.
"He did not mean to do it," Catti-brie said to Bruenor, trying to calm the volatile dwarf. She, too, was obviously angry, but she, like Drizzt, understood better the truth of Wulfgar's emotional turmoil. "I'm thinking he wasn't seein' me," the woman went on, speaking more to Drizzt. "Looking back at Errtu's torments, by me guess."
Drizzt nodded. "As it was at the beginning of the fight with the giants," he said.
"And so ye're to let it go?" Bruenor roared in reply. "Ye're thinkin' that ye can't hold the boy responsible?
Bah! I'll give him a beating that'll make his years with Errtu seem easy! Go and get him, elf. Bring him back that he can tell me girl he's sorry. Then he can tell me. Then he can find me fist in his mouth and take a good long sleep to think about it!" With a growl, Bruenor drove his axe deep into the ground. "I heared too much o' this Errtu," he declared. "Ye can't be livin' in what's already done!"
Drizzt had little doubt that if Wulfgar walked back into camp at that moment, it would take him, Catti-brie, Regis, Camlaine, and all his companions just to pull Bruenor off the man. And in looking at Catti-brie, one eye swollen, her bloody nose bright red, the ranger wasn't sure he would be too quick to hold the dwarf back.
Without another word Drizzt turned and walked away, out of the camp and into the darkness. Wulfgar couldn't have gone far, he knew, though the night was not so dark with the big moon shining bright across the tundra. Just outside the campsite he took out his figurine. Guenhwyvar led the way, rushing into the darkness and growling back to guide the running ranger.
To Drizzt's surprise the trail led neither south nor back to the northeast and Ten Towns, but straight east, toward the towering black peaks of the Spine of the World. Soon Guenhwyvar led him into the foothills, dangerous territory
indeed, for the high bluffs and rocky outcroppings provided fine ambush points for lurking monsters or highwaymen.
Perhaps, Drizzt mused, that was exactly why Wulfgar had come this way. Perhaps he was looking for trouble, for a fight, or maybe even for some giant to surprise him and end his pain.
Drizzt skidded to a stop and blew a long and profound sigh, for what seemed most unsettling to him was not the thought that Wulfgar was inviting disaster, but his own reaction to it. For at that moment, the image of hurt Catti-brie clear in his mind, the ranger almost-almost-thought that such an ending to Wulfgar's tale would not be such a terrible thing.
A call from Guenhwyvar brought him from his thoughts. He sprinted up a steep incline, leaped to another boulder, then skittered back down to another trail. He heard a growl-from Wulfgar and not the panther-then a crash as Aegis-fang slammed against some stone. The crash was near to Guenhwyvar, Drizzt realized, from the sound of the hit and the cat's ensuing protesting roars.
Drizzt leaped over a stone lip, rushed across a short expanse, and jumped down a small drop to land lightly right beside the big man just as the warhammer magically reappeared in his grasp. For a moment, considering the wild look in Wulfgar's eyes, the drow thought he would have to draw his blades and fight the man, but Wulfgar calmed quickly. He seemed merely defeated, his rage thrown out.
"I did not know," he said, slumping back against the stone.
"I understand," Drizzt replied, holding back his own anger and trying to sound compassionate.
"It was not Catti-brie," Wulfgar went on. "In my thoughts, I mean. I was not with her, but back there, in that place of darkness."
"I know," said Drizzt. "And so does Catti-brie, though I fear we shall have some work ahead of us in calming Bruenor." He ended with a wide and warm smile, but his attempt to lighten the situation was lost on Wulfgar.
"He is right to be outraged," the barbarian admitted. "As I am outraged, in a way you cannot begin to understand."
"Do not underestimate the value of friendship," Drizzt answered. "I once made a similar error, nearly to the destruction of all that I hold dear."
Wulfgar shook his head through every word of it, unable to find any footing for agreement. Black waves of despair washed over him, burying him. What he had done was beyond forgiveness, especially since he realized, and admitted to himself, that it would likely happen again. "I am lost," he said softly.
"And we will all help you to find your way," Drizzt answered, putting a comforting hand on the big man's shoulder.
Wulfgar pushed him away. "No," he said firmly, and then he gave a little laugh. "There is no way to find. The darkness of Errtu endures. Under that shadow, I cannot be who you want me to be."
"We only want you to remember who you once were," the
drow replied. "In the ice cave, we rejoiced to find Wulfgar, son of Beornegar, returned to us."
"He was not," the big man corrected. "I am not the man who left you in Mithral Hall. I can never be that man again."
"Time will heal-" Drizzt started to say, but Wulfgar silenced him with a roar.
"No!" he cried. "I do not ask for healing. I do not wish to become again the man that I was. Perhaps I have learned the truth of the world, and that truth has shown me the errors of my previous ways."