Drizzt crushed her in a hug.
"And they'll be happy to see ye, don't ye doubt," Ivan said to Drizzt. "But there's a few tears to be shed for poor Delly. I don't know what possessed the girl to run off like that."
The words hit Drizzt hard, and he jumped back from Innovindil and turned an angry glower over the sentient sword.
"I do," he said and he cursed Khazid'hea under his breath.
"The sword can dominate its wielder?" Innovindil asked.
Drizzt walked over and grabbed the blade, lifting it before his eyes. He sent his questions telepathically to Khazid'hea, feeling the life there and demanding answers.
But then something else occurred to him.
"Get yer flying horses tacked up then," said Ivan. "The sooner we get ye back to Mithral Hall, the better for everyone. Yer friends are missing ye sorely, Drizzt Do'Urden, and I'm thinking that ye're missing them just as much."
The drow wasn't about to argue that, but as he stood there holding the magnificent sword, the sword that cut through just about anything, his thoughts began cascading down a different avenue.
"I can defeat him," he said.
"What's that?" asked Ivan.
"What do you mean?" Innovindil asked.
Drizzt turned to them and said, "I outfought Obould."
"Ye fought him?" an incredulous Ivan spouted.
"I fought him, not so long ago, on a hillock not so far from here," Drizzt explained. "I fought him and I scored hit after hit, but my blades could not penetrate his armor." He brought Khazid'hea up and sent it slashing across in a powerful stroke. "Do you know the well-earned nickname of this blade?" he asked.
"Cutter," he answered when the other three just stared at him. "With this sword, I can defeat Obould."
"It is a fight for another day," Innovindil said to him. "After you are reunited with those who love you and fear you are lost to them."
Drizzt shook his head. "Obould is moving now, hilltop to hilltop. He is confident and so his entourage is small. I can get to him, and with this blade, I can defeat him."
"Your friends deserve to see you, and your friendship demands you attend to that," said Innovindil.
"My service to Bruenor is a service to all the land," Drizzt replied. "The folk of the North deserve to be free of the hold of Obould. I am given that chance now. To avenge Shallows and all the other towns, to avenge the dwarves who fell before the invaders. To avenge Tarathiel—we'll not get this chance again, perhaps."
The mention of Tarathiel seemed to take all the argument out of the elf.
"Ye're going after him now?" Ivan asked.
"I cannot think of a better time."
Ivan considered things for a bit, then began to nod.
"Hee hee hee," Pikel agreed.
"Ye hit the dog for meself, too," Ivan remarked, and his smile erupted with sudden inspiration. He pulled out his hand crossbow, of near-perfect drow design, and tossed it to Drizzt, then pulled the bandolier of explosive darts from over his shoulder and handed them to the drow.
"Pop a couple o' these into the beast and watch him hop!" Ivan declared.
"Hee hee hee."
"Me and me brother …" Ivan started to say, then he paused and looked at Pikel, expecting an interruption. Pikel stared back at him in confusion.
Ivan sighed. "Me and me brother—" he started again.
"Me brudder!"
"Yeah, us two'll get back to Mithral Hall and tell yer friends that ye're out here," Ivan offered. "We'll be expecting ye soon enough."
Drizzt turned to his elf friend. "Go with them," he bade her. "Watch over them from above and make sure they arrive safely."
"I am to allow you to go off alone after King Obould?"
Drizzt held up the vicious sword, and the bandolier and crossbow.
"I can defeat him," he promised.
"If you can even get him alone," Innovindil argued. "I can aid in that."
Drizzt shook his head. "I will find him and watch him from afar," he promised. "I will find an opportunity and I will seize it. Obould will fall to this sword in my hand."
"Bah, it's not a job for yerself alone," Ivan argued.
"With Sunrise, I can move swiftly. He'll not catch me unless I choose to be caught. In that event, King Obould will die."
The drow's tone was perfectly even and balanced.
"I will not stay at Mithral Hall," said Innovindil. "I will see the dwarves there, and I will come right back out for you."
"And I will be waiting," Drizzt promised. "Obould's head in hand."
It seemed as if there was nothing more to say, but of course Pikel added, "Hee hee hee."
CHAPTER 29 A DEEP BREATH
"I will grow weary of this travel soon enough," Tos'un Armgo said to his drow companion.
They had been on the move for days and days, finally catching up to Obould many miles north of where they had expected to find him, the western door of Mithral Hall. There too, the fight had not gone well, apparently, and the orc king seemed in little mood for any discussion of it. It was fast becoming apparent that the travels had just begun for the two drow if they meant to remain with Obould. The orc king would not set stakes anywhere, it seemed, even in the increasingly inclement weather.
One bright morning, Tos'un and Kaer'lic awaited his arrival on some flat stones outside of the foundation of a small keep atop a steep-sided hill, their first real chance to speak with Obould since their return. Obould would entertain guests only at the pleasure of Obould. All around the two drow, orcs were hard at work clear-cutting the few trees that grew among the gray stone and dirt of the hillsides, and clearing any boulder tumbles that could offer cover to an approaching enemy.
"He is building his kingdom," Kaer'lic remarked. "He has been hinting at this for so long now, and none of us bothered to listen."
"A few castles hardly make a kingdom," said Tos'un. "Particularly when we are speaking of orcs, who will soon turn their garrisons upon one another."
"You would enjoy that, no doubt," a gruff voice responded.
The two dark elves turned to see the approach of Obould, and that annoying shaman Tsinka. Kaer'lic noted that the female did not seem at all pleased.
"A prediction based upon past behavior," Tos'un said, and he offered a bow. "No insult meant to you, of course."
Obould scowled at him. "Behavior before the coming of Obould-who-is-Gruumsh," he replied. "You continue to lack the vision of my kingdom, drow, to your own detriment."
Kaer'lic found herself taking a slight step back from the imposing and unpredictable orc.
"I had figured that you two had followed your two kin to the side of your Spider Queen," the orc said, and it took a moment for the words to register.
"Donnia and Ad'non?" Kaer'lic asked.
"Slain by yet another drow elf," Obould replied, and if he was bothered in the least by that news, he did not show it.
Kaer'lic looked at Tos'un, and the two just accepted the loss with a shrug.
"I believe that one of the shamans collected Ad'non's head as a trophy," Obould said callously. "I can retrieve it for you, if you would like."
The insincerity of his offer stung Kaer'lic more than she would have expected, but she did well to keep her anger out of her face as she regarded the orc king.
"You kept your army together through a defeat at Mithral Hall," she said, thinking it better to let the other line of conversation fall away. "That is a good sign."
"Defeat?" Tsinka Shinriil shrieked. "What do you know of it?"
"I know that you are not inside Mithral Hall."
"The price was not worth the gain," Obould explained. "We fought them to a standstill in the outer halls. We could have pressed in, but it became apparent to us that our allies had not arrived." He narrowed his eyes, glared at Kaer'lic, and added, "As we had planned."