“They saw,” Wulfgar remarked. “Come,” he bade Drizzt, heading back toward the boarding plank. “They will accept this!”
Drizzt wasn’t so certain. He remembered other times when he had rescued men, only to have them turn on him when they saw under the cowl of his cloak and learned the true color of his skin.
But this was the price of his choice to forsake his own people and come to the surface world.
Drizzt grabbed Wulfgar by the shoulder and stepped by him, resolutely leading the way back to the Sea Sprite. Looking back at his young friend, he winked and pulled the mask off his face. He sheathed his scimitars and turned to confront the crew.
“Let them know Drizzt Do’Urden,” Wulfgar growled softly behind him, lending Drizzt all the strength he would ever need.
12. Comrades
Bruenor found Catti-brie treading water beyond the carnage of Pinochet’s ship. Pinochet paid the young woman no attention, though. Far in the distance, the crew on his remaining ship, the bulky artillery vessel, had brought the fires under control, but had turned tail and sailed away with all the speed it could muster.
“I thought ye had forgot me,” Catti-brie said as the rowboat approached.
“Ye should’ve stayed by me side,” the dwarf laughed at her.
“I’ve not the kinship with fire as yerself,” Catti-brie retorted with a bit of suspicion.
Bruenor shrugged. “Been that way since the halls,” he replied. “Mighten be me father’s father’s armor.”
Catti-brie grabbed the side of the low-riding boat and started up, then paused in a sudden realization as she noticed the scimitar strapped across Bruenor’s back. “Ye’ve got the drow’s blade!” she said, remembering the story Drizzt had told her of his battle with a fiery demon. The magic of the ice-forged scimitar had saved Drizzt from the fire that day. “Suren that’s yer salvation!”
“Good blade,” Bruenor muttered, looking at its hilt over his shoulder. “The elf should find it a name!”
“The boat will not hold the weight of three,” Pinochet interrupted.
Bruenor turned an angry glare on him and snapped, “Then swim!”
Pinochet’s face contorted, and he started to rise threateningly.
Bruenor recognized that he had taunted the proud pirate too far. Before the man could straighten, the dwarf slammed his forehead into Pinochet’s chest, butting him over the back of the rowboat. Without missing a beat, the dwarf grabbed Catti-brie’s wrist and hoisted her up by his side. “Put yer bow on him, girl,” he said loudly enough for Pinochet, once again bobbing in the water, to hear. He threw the pirate the end of a rope. “If he don’t keep up, kill ‘im!”
Catti-brie set a silver-shafted arrow to Taulmaril’s string and took a bead on Pinochet, playing through the threat, though she had no intention of finishing off the helpless man. “They call me bow the Heartseeker,” she warned “Suren ye’d be wise to swim.”
The proud pirate pulled the rope around him and paddled.
* * *
“No drow’s coming back to this ship!” one of Deudermont’s crewmen growled at Drizzt.
The man took a slap on the back of the head for his words, and then sheepishly moved aside as Deudermont stepped up to the boarding plank. The captain studied the expressions of his crewmen as they surveyed the drow who had been their companion for weeks.
“What’ll ye do with him?” one sailor dared to ask.
“We’ve men in the water,” the captain replied, deflecting the pointed question. “Get them out and dry, and throw the pirates in chains.” He waited a moment for his crewmen to disperse, but they held their positions, entranced by the drama of the dark elf.
“And get these ships untangled!” Deudermont roared.
He turned to face Drizzt and Wulfgar, now only a few feet from the plank. “Let us retire to my cabin,” he said calmly. “We should talk.”
Drizzt and Wulfgar did not answer. They went with the captain silently, absorbing the curious, fearful, and outraged stares that followed them.
Deudermont stopped halfway across the deck, joining a group of his crew as they looked to the south, past Pinochet’s burning ship, to a small rowboat pulling hard in their direction.
“The driver of the fiery chariot that rushed across the sky,” one of the crewman explained.
“He took down that ship!” another exclaimed, pointing to the wreckage of Pinochet’s flagship, now listing badly and soon to sink. “And sent the third one running!”
“Then a friend of ours, he is indeed!” the captain replied.
“And of ours,” Drizzt added, turning all eyes back upon him. Even Wulfgar looked curiously at his companion. He had heard the cry to Moradin, but had not dared to hope that it was indeed Bruenor Battlehammer rushing to their aid.
“A red-bearded dwarf, if my guess is correct,” Drizzt continued. “And with him, a young woman.”
Wulfgar’s jaw dropped open. “Bruenor?” he managed to whisper. “Catti-brie?”
Drizzt shrugged. “That is my guess.”
“We shall know soon enough,” Deudermont assured them. He instructed his crewmen to bring the passengers of the rowboat to his cabin as soon as they came aboard, then he led Drizzt and Wulfgar away, knowing that on the deck the drow would prove a distraction to his crew. And at this time, with the ships fouled, they had important work to complete.
“What do you mean to do with us?” Wulfgar demanded when Deudermont shut the cabin door. “We fought for—”
Deudermont stopped the growing tirade with a calming smile. “You certainly did,” he acknowledged. “I only wish that I had such mighty sailors on every voyage south. Surely then the pirates would flee whenever the Sea Sprite broke the horizon!”
Wulfgar eased back from his defensive posture.
“My deception was not intended to bring harm,” Drizzt said somberly. “And only my appearance was a lie. I require passage to the south to rescue a friend—that much remains true.”
Deudermont nodded, but before he could answer, a knock came on the door and a sailor peeked in. “Beggin’ yer pardon,” he began.
“What is it?” asked Deudermont.
“We follow yer every step, Captain, ye know that,” the sailor stammered. “But we thought we should let ye know our feeling’s on the elf.”
Deudermont considered the sailor, and then Drizzt, for a moment. He had always been proud of his crew; most of the men had been together for many years, but he seriously wondered how they would come through this dilemma.
“Go on,” he prompted, stubbornly holding his trust in his men.
“Well, we know he’s a drow,” the sailor began, “and we know what that means.” He paused, weighing his next words carefully. Drizzt held his breath in anticipation; he had been down this route before.
“But them two, they pulled us through a bad jam there,” the sailor blurted all of a sudden. “We wouldn’t a gotten through without ‘em!”
“So you want them to remain aboard?” Deudermont asked, a smile growing across his face. His crew had come through once again.
“Aye!” the sailor replied heartily. “To a man! And we’re proud to have ‘em!”
Another sailor, the one who had challenged Drizzt at the plank just a few minutes before, poked his head in. “I was scared, that’s all,” he apologized to Drizzt.
Overwhelmed, Drizzt hadn’t found his breath yet. He nodded his acceptance of the apology.
“See ye on deck, then,” said the second sailor, and he disappeared out the door.
“We just thought ye should know,” the first sailor told Deudermont, and then he, too, was gone.
“They are a fine crew,” Deudermont said to Drizzt and Wulfgar when the door had closed.
“And what are your thoughts?” Wulfgar had to ask.
“I judge a man—elf—by his character, not his appearance,” Deudermont declared. “And on that subject, keep the mask off, Drizzt Do’Urden. You are a far handsomer sort without it!�
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“Not many would share that observation,” Drizzt replied.
“On the Sea Sprite, they would!” roared the captain. “Now, the battle is won, but there is much to be done. I suspect that your strength would be appreciated at the prow, mighty barbarian. We have to get these ships unfouled and moving before that third pirate comes back with more of his friends!
“And you,” he said to Drizzt with a sneaky smile. “I would think that no one could keep a shipload of prisoners in line better than you.”
Drizzt pulled the mask off his head and tucked it in his pack. “There are advantages to the color of my skin,” he agreed, shaking the gnarls out of his white locks. He turned with Wulfgar to leave, but the door burst in before them.
“Nice blade, elf!” said Bruenor Battlehammer, standing in a puddle of seawater. He tossed the magical scimitar to Drizzt. “Find a name for it, will ye? Blade like that be needing’ a name. Good for a cook at a pig roastin’!”
“Or a dwarf hunting dragons,” Drizzt remarked. He held the scimitar reverently, remembering again the first time he had seen it, lying in the dead dragon’s horde. Then he gave it a new home in the scabbard that had held his normal blade, thinking his old one a fitting companion for Twinkle.
Bruenor walked up to his drow friend and clasped his wrist firmly. “When I saw yer eyes lookin’ out at me from the gorge,” the dwarf began softly, fighting back a choke that threatened to break his voice apart, “suren then I knew that me other friends would be safe.”
“But they are not,” Drizzt replied. “Regis is in dire peril.”
Bruenor winked. “We’ll get him back, elf! No stinkin’ assassin’s going to put an end to Rumblebelly!” He clenched the drow’s arm tightly one final time and turned to Wulfgar, the lad he had ushered into manhood.
Wulfgar wanted to speak but could find no path for the words beyond the lump in his throat. Unlike Drizzt, the barbarian had no idea that Bruenor might still be alive, and seeing his dear mentor, the dwarf who had become as a father to him, back from the grave and standing before him was simply too much for him to digest. He grabbed Bruenor by the shoulders just as the dwarf was about to say something, and hoisted him up, locking him in a great bear hug.
It took Bruenor a few seconds of wiggling to get loose enough to draw breath. “If ye’d squeezed the dragon like that,” the dwarf coughed, “I wouldn’t’ve had to ride it down the gorge!”
Catti-brie walked through the door, soaking wet, with her auburn hair matted to her neck and shoulders. Behind her came Pinochet, drenched and humbled.
Her eyes first found the gaze of Drizzt, locking the drow in a silent moment of emotion that went deeper than simple friendship. “Well met,” she whispered. “Good it is to look upon Drizzt Do’Urden again. Me heart’s been with ye all along.”
Drizzt cast her a casual smile and turned his lavender eyes away. “Somehow I knew that you would join our quest before it was through,” he said. “Well met, then, and welcome along.”
Catti-brie’s gaze drifted past the drow to Wulfgar. Twice she had been separated from the man, and both times when they again had met, Catti-brie was reminded how much she had come to love him.
Wulfgar saw her, too. Droplets of seawater sparkled on her face, but they paled next to the shine of her smile. The barbarian, his stare never leaving Catti-brie, eased Bruenor back to the floor.
Only the embarrassment of youthful love kept them apart at that moment, with Drizzt and Bruenor looking on.
“Captain Deudermont,” said Drizzt, “I give you Bruenor Battlehammer and Catti-brie, two dear friends and fine allies.”
“And we brought ye a present,” Bruenor chuckled. “Seeing as we got no money to pay ye for passage.” Bruenor walked over, grabbed Pinochet by the sleeve, and pulled the man front and center. “Captain o’ the ship I burned, by me guess.”
“Welcome to both of you,” Deudermont replied. “And I assure you that you have more than earned your passage.” The captain moved to confront Pinochet, suspecting the man’s importance.
“Do you know who I am?” the pirate said in a huff, thinking that he now had a more reasonable person to deal with than the surly dwarf.
“You are a pirate,” Deudermont replied calmly.
Pinochet cocked his head to study the captain. A sly smile crossed his face. “You have perhaps heard of Pinochet?”
Deudermont had thought, and feared, that he had recognized the man when Pinochet had first entered the cabin. The captain of the Sea Sprite had indeed heard of Pinochet—every merchant along the Sword Coast had heard of Pinochet.
“I demand that you release me and my men!” the pirate blustered.
“In time,” Deudermont replied. Drizzt, Bruenor, Wulfgar, and Catti-brie, not understanding the extent of the influence of the pirates, all looked at Deudermont in disbelief.
“I warn you that the consequences of your actions will be dire!” Pinochet continued, suddenly gaining the upper hand in the confrontation. “I am not a forgiving man, nor are my allies.”
Drizzt, whose own people commonly bent the tenets of justice to fit rules of station, understood the captain’s dilemma at once. “Let him go,” he said. Both of his magical scimitars came out in his hands, Twinkle glowing dangerously. “Let him go and give him a blade. Neither am I forgiving.”
Seeing the horrified look the pirate gave the drow, Bruenor was quick to join in. “Ayuh, Captain, let the dog free,” the dwarf scowled. “I only kept his head on his shoulders to give ye a livin’ gift. If ye don’t want him, …” Bruenor pulled his axe from his belt and swung it easily at the end of his arm.
Wulfgar didn’t miss the point. “Bare hands and up the mast!” the barbarian roared, flexing his muscles so they seemed they would burst. “The pirate and me! Let the winner know the glory of victory. And let the loser drop to his death!”
Pinochet looked at the three crazed warriors. Then, almost pleading for help, he turned back to Deudermont.
“Ah, ye’re all missing the fun.” Catti-brie grinned, not to be left out. “Where’s the sport in one of ye tearin’ the pirate apart? Give him the little boat and set him off.” Her spritely face turned suddenly grim, and she cast a wicked glare at Pinochet. “Give him a boat,” she reiterated, “and let him dodge me silver arrows!”
“Very well, Captain Pinochet,” Deudermont began, barely hiding a chuckle. “I would not invoke the rage of the pirates. You are a free man and may go when you choose.”
Pinochet snapped around, face to face with Deudermont.
“Or,” continued the captain of the Sea Sprite, “you and your crew can remain in my hold, under my personal protection, until we reach port.”
“You cannot control your crew?” the pirate spat.
“They are not my crew,” Deudermont replied. “And if these four chose to kill you, I daresay that I could do little to deter them.”
“It is not the way of my people to let our enemies live!” Drizzt interjected in a tone so callous that it sent shivers through the spines of even his closest friends. “Yet I need you, Captain Deudermont, and your ship.” He sheathed his blades in a lightning-quick movement. “I will let the pirate live in exchange for the completion of our arrangements.”
“The hold, Captain Pinochet?” Deudermont asked, waving two of his crewmen in to escort the pirate leader.
Pinochet’s eyes were back on Drizzt. “If you ever sail this way again, …” the stubborn pirate began ominously.
Bruenor kicked him in the behind. “Wag yer tongue again dog,” the dwarf roared, “and suren I’ll cut it out!”
Pinochet left quietly with Deudermont’s crewmen.
* * *
Later that day, while the crew of the Sea Sprite continued its repairs, the reunited friends retired to Drizzt and Wulfgar’s cabin to hear of Bruenor’s adventures in Mithril Hall. Stars twinkled in the evening sky and still the dwarf went on, talking of the riches he had seen, of the ancient and holy places he had come across in
his homeland, of his many skirmishes with duergar patrols, and of his final, daring escape through the great undercity.
Catti-brie sat directly across from Bruenor, watching the dwarf through the swaying flame of the single candle burning on the table. She had heard his story before, but Bruenor could spin a tale as well as any, and she leaned forward in her chair, mesmerized once again. Wulfgar, with his long arms draped comfortably over her shoulders, had pulled his chair up behind her.
Drizzt stood by the window and gazed at the dreamy sky. How like the old times it all seemed, as if they had somehow brought a piece of Icewind Dale along with them. Many were the nights that the friends had gathered to swap tales of their pasts or to just enjoy the quiet of the evening together. Of course, a fifth member had been with the group then and always with an outlandish tale that outdid all the others.
Drizzt looked at his friends and then back to the night sky, thinking—hoping—of a day when the five friends would be rejoined.
A knock on the door made the three at the table jump, so engrossed were they—even Bruenor—in the dwarf’s story. Drizzt opened the door, and Captain Deudermont walked in.
“Greetings,” he said politely. “I would not interrupt, but I have some news.”
“Just getting to the good part,” Bruenor grumbled, “but it’ll get better with a bit o’ waiting!”
“I have spoken with Pinochet once again,” said Deudermont. “He is a very prominent man in this land, and it does not fit well that he set up three ships to stop us. He was after something.”
“Us,” Drizzt reasoned.
“He said nothing directly,” replied Deudermont, “but I believe that to be the case. Please understand that I cannot press him too far.”
“Bah! I’ll get the dog a barkin’!” Bruenor huffed.
“No need,” said Drizzt. “The pirates had to be looking for us.”
“But how would they know?” Deudermont asked.
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