精灵血脉四部曲-第151部分

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row　battling　dwarves。　Yet；　though　their　tactics　are　perfect；　groups　working　in　unison　to　support　each　other；　that　cohesion　among　drow　ranks　remains　superficial。

　　　Few；　if　any；　dark　elves　of　Lloth's　army　would　give　her　or　his　life　to　save　another；　unless　she　or　he　was　confident　that　the　sacrifice　would　guarantee　a　place　of　honor　in　the　afterlife　at　the　Spider　Queen's　side。　Only　a　fanatic　among　the　dark　elves　would　take　a　hit；　however　minor；　to　spare　another's　life；　and　only　because　that　fanatic　thought　the　act　in　her　own　best　interest。　The　drow　came　crying　for　the　glory　of　the　Spider　Queen；　but；　in　reality；　they　each　were　looking　for　a　piece　of　her　glory。

　　　Personal　gain　was　always　the　dark　elves'　primary　precept。

　　　That　was　the　difference　between　the　defenders　of　Mithril　Hall　and　those　who　came　to　conquer。　That　was　the　one　hope　of　our　side　when　faced　with　such　horrendous　odds；　outnumbered　by　skilled　drow　warriors！

　　　If　a　single　dwarf　came　to　a　battle　in　which　his　rades　were　being　overrun；　he　would　roar　in　defiance　and　charge　in　headlong；　however　terrible　the　odds。　Yet　if　we　could　catch　a　group　of　drow；　a　patrol；　perhaps；　in　an　ambush；　those　supporting　groups　flanking　their　unfortunate　rades　would　not　join　in　unless　they　could　be　assured　of　victory。

　　　We；　not　they；　had　true　collective　purpose。　We；　not　they；　understood　cohesion；　fought　for　a　shared　higher　principle；　and　understood　and　accepted　that　any　sacrifice　we　might　make　would　be　toward　the　greater　good。

　　　There　is　a　chamber梞any　chambers；　actually梚n　Mithril　Hall；　where　the　heroes　of　wars　and　past　struggles　are　honored。　Wulfgar's　hammer　is　there；　so　was　the　bow梩he　bow　of　an　elf梩hat　Catti…brie　put　into　service　once　more。　Though　she　has　used　the　bow　for　years；　and　has　added　considerably　to　its　legend；　Catti…brie　refers　to　it　still　as　〃the　bow　of　Anariel；〃　that　long…dead　elf。　If　the　bow　is　put　into　service　again　by　a　friend　of　Clan　Battlehammer　centuries　hence；　it　will　be　called　〃the　bow　of　Catti…brie；　passed　from　Anariel。〃

　　　There　is　in　Mithril　Hall　another　place；　the　Hall　of　Kings；　where　the　busts　of　Clan　Battlehammer's　patrons；　the　eight　kings；　have　been　carved；　gigantic　and　everlasting。

　　　The　drow　have　no　such　monuments。　My　mother；　Malice；　never　spoke　of　the　previous　matron　mother　of　House　Do'Urden；　likely　because　Malice　played　a　hand　in　her　mother's　death。　In　the　Academy；　there　are　no　plaques　of　former　mistresses　and　masters。　Indeed；　as　I　consider　it　now；　the　only　monuments　in　Menzoberranzan　are　the　statues　of　those　punished　by　Baenre；　of　those　struck　by　Vendes　and　her　wicked　whip；　their　skin　turned　to　ebony；　that　they　might　then　be　placed　on　display　as　testaments　of　disobedience　on　the　plateau　of　Tier　Breche　outside　the　Academy。

　　　That　was　the　difference　between　the　defenders　of　Mithril　Hall　and　those　who　came　to　conquer。　That　was　the　one　hope。

　　　…　Drizzt　Do'Urden



Chapter　23

POCKETS　OF　POWER



　　　Bidderdoo　had　never　seen　anything　to　match　it。　Literally；　it　was　raining　kobolds　and　pieces　of　kobolds　all　about　the　terrified　Harpell　as　the　Gutbuster　Brigade　went　into　full　battle　lust。　They　had　e　into　a　small；　wide　chamber　and　found　a　force　of　kobolds　many　times　their　own　number。　Before　Bidderdoo　could　suggest　a　retreat　（or　a　〃tactical　flanking　maneuver；〃　as　he　planned　to　call　it；　because　he　knew　the　word　〃retreat〃　was　not　in　Thibbledorf　Pwent's　vocabulary）；　Pwent　had　led　the　forthright　charge。　Poor　Bidderdoo　had　been　sucked　up　in　the　brigade's　wake；　the　seven　frenzied　dwarves　blindly；　happily；　following　Pwent's　seemingly　suicidal　lead　right　into　the　heart　of　the　cavern。　Now　it　was　a　frenzy；　a　massacre　the　likes　of　which　the　studious　Harpell；　who　had　lived　all　his　life　in　the　sheltered　Ivy　Mansion　（and　a　good　part　of　that　as　a　family　dog）　could　not　believe。

　　　Pwent　darted　by　him；　a　dead　kobold　impaled　on　his　helmet　spike　and　flopping　limply。　Arms　wide；　the　battlerager　leaped　into　a　group　of　kobolds　and　pulled　as　many　in　as　possible；　hugging　them　tightly。　Then　he　began　to　shake；　to　convulse　so　violently　that　Bidderdoo　wondered　if　some　agonizing　poison　had　found　its　way　into　the　dwarf's　veins。

　　　Not　so；　for　this　was　controlled　insanity。　Pwent　shook；　and　the　nasty　ridges　of　his　armor　took　the　skin　from　his　hugged　enemies；　ripped　and　tore　them。　He　broke　away　（and　three　kobolds　fell　dying）　with　a　left　hook　that　brought　his　mailed；　spiked　gauntlet　several　inches　into　the　forehead　of　the　next　unfortunate　enemy。

　　　Bidderdoo　came　to　understand　that　the　charge　was　not　suicidal；　that　the　Gutbusters　would　win　easily　by　overwhelming　the　greater　numbers　with　sheer　fury。　He　also　realized；　suddenly；　that　the　kobolds　learned　fast　to　avoid　the　furious　dwarves。　Six　of　them　bypassed　Pwent；　giving　the　battlerager　a　respectfully　wide　berth。　Six　of　them　swung　about　and　bore　down　on　the　one　enemy　they　could　hope　to　defeat。

　　　Bidderdoo　fumbled　with　the　shattered　remains　of　his　spellbook；　flipping　to　one　page　where　the　ink　had　not　smeared　so　badly。　Holding　the　parchment　in　one　hand；　his　other　hand　straight　out　in　front　of　him；　he　began　a　fast　chant；　waggling　his　fingers。

　　　A　burst　of　magical　energy　erupted　from　each　of　his　fingertips；　green　bolts　rushing　out；　each　darting　and　weaving　to　unerringly　strike　a　target。

　　　Five　of　the　kobolds　fell　dead；　the　sixth　came　on　with　a　shriek；　its　little　sword　rushing　for　Bidderdoo's　belly。

　　　The　parchment　fell　from　the　terrified　Harpell's　hand。　He　screamed；　thinking　he　was　about　to　die；　and　reacted　purely　on　instinct；　falling　forward　over　the　blade；　angling　his　chest　down　so　that　he　buried　the　diminutive　kobold　beneath　him。　He　felt　a　burning　pain　as　the　small　creature's　sword　cut　into　his　ribs；　but　there　was　no　strength　behind　the　blow　and　the　sword　did　not　dig　in　deeply。

　　　Bidderdoo；　so　unused　to　bat；　screamed　in　terror。　And　the　pain；　the　pain。。。

　　　Bidderdoo's　screams　became　a　howl。　He　looked　down　and　saw　the　thrashing　kobold；　and　saw　more　clearly　the　thrashing　kobold's　exposed　throat。

　　　Then　he　tasted　warm　blood　and　was　not　repulsed。

　　　Growling；　Bidderdoo　closed　his　eyes　and　held　on。　The　kobold　stopped　thrashing。

　　　After　some　time；　the　poor　Harpell　noticed　that　the　sounds　of　battle　had　ended　about　him。　He　gradually　opened　his　eyes；　turned　his　head　slightly　to　look　up　at　Thibbledorf　Pwent；　standing　over　him　and　nodding　his　head。

　　　Only　then　did　Bidderdoo　realize　he　had　killed　the　kobold；　had　bitten　the　thing's　throat　out。

　　　〃Good　technique；〃　Pwent　offered；　and　started　away。



　　　*****



　　　While　the　Gutbuster　Brigade's　maneuvers　were　loud　and　straightforward；　wholly　dependent　on　savagery；　another　party's　were　a　dance　of　stealth　and　ambush。　Drizzt　and　Guenhwyvar；　Catti…brie；　Regis；　and　Bruenor　moved　silently　from　one　tunnel　to　another；　the　drow　and　panther　leading。　Guenhwyvar　was　the　first　to　detect　an　approaching　enemy；　and　Drizzt　quickly　relayed　the　signals　when　the　panther's　ears　went　flat。

　　　The　five　worked　in　unison；　setting　up　so　that　Catti…brie；　with　her　deadly　bow；　would　strike　first；　followed　by　the　panther's　spring；　the　drow's　impossibly　fast　rush　into　the　fray；　and　Bruenor's　typically　dwarven　roaring　charge。　Regis　always　found　a　way　to　get　into　the　fight；　usually　moving　in　behind　to　slam　a　drow　backside　or　a　kobold's　head　with　his　mace　when　one　of　his　friends　became　too　closely　pressed。

　　　This　time；　though；　Regis　figured　to　stay　out　of　the　battle　altogether。　The　group　was　in　a　wide；　high　corridor　when　Guenhwyvar；　nearing　a　bend；　fell　into　a　crouch；　ears　flat。　Drizzt　slipped　into　the　shadows　of　an　alcove；　as　did　Regis；　while　Bruenor　stepped　defensively　in　front　of　his　archer　daughter；　so　that　Catti…brie　could　use　the　horns　of　his　helmet　to　line　up　her　shot。

　　　Around　the　corner　came　the　enemy；　a　group　of　minotaurs　and　drow；　five　of　each；　running　swiftly　in　the　general　direction　of　Mithril　Hall。

　　　Catti…brie　wisely　went　for　the　drow。　There　came　a　flash　of　silver；　and　one　fell　dead。

　　　Guenhwyvar　came　out　hard　and　fast；　burying　another　dark　elf；　clawing　and　biting　and　rolling　right　away　to　bear　down　on　a　third　drow。

　　　A　second　flash　came；　and　another　elf　fell　dead。

　　　But　the　minotaurs　came　on　hard；　and　Catti…brie　would　get　no　third　shot。　She　went　for　her　sword　as　Bruenor　roared　and　rushed　out　to　meet　the　closest　monster。

　　　The　minotaur　lowered　its　bull…like　head；　Bruenor　dropped　his　notched　battle…axe　right　behind　him　over　his　head；　holding　the　handle　tightly　in　both　hands。

　　　In　came　the　minotaur；　and　over　came　the　axe。　The　crack　sounded　like　the　snapping　of　a　gigantic　tree。

　　　Bruenor　didn't　know　what　hit　him。　Suddenly　he　was　flying　backward；　bowled　over　by　six　hundred　pounds　of　minotaur。



　　　*****



　　　Drizzt　came　out　spinning　and　darting。　He　hit　the　first　minotaur　from　the　side；　a　scimitar　cutting　deep　into　the　back　of　the　creature's　thigh；　stopping　its　charge。　The　ranger　spun　away　and　went　down　to　one　knee；　jabbing　straight　ahead　with　Twinkle；　hooking　the　tip　of　the　blue…glowing　scimitar　over　the　next　monster's　kneecap。

　　　The　minotaur　howled　and　half…fell；　half…dove　right　for　Drizzt；　but　the　drow's　feet　were　already　under　him；　already　moving；　and　the　brute　slammed　hard　into　the　stone。

　　　Drizzt　turned　back　for　Catti…brie　and　Bruenor　and　the　two　remaining　brutes　bearing　down　on　his　friends。　With　incredible　speed；　he　caught　up　to　them　almost　immediately　and　his　scimitars　went　to　work　on　one；　again　going　for　the　legs；　stopping　the　charge。

　　　But　the　last　minotaur　caught　up　to　Catti…brie。　Its　huge　club；　made　of　hardened　mushroom　stalk；　came　flying　about；　and　Catti…brie　ducked　fast；　whipping　her　sword　above　her　head。

　　　Khazid'hea　sliced　right　through　the　club；　and　as　the　minotaur　stared　at　the　remaining　piece　dumbfoundedly；　Catti…brie　countered　with　a　slashing　backhand。｜Qī…shū…ωǎng｜

　　　The　minotaur　looked　at　her　curiously。　She　could　not　believe　she　had　missed。



　　　*****



　　　Regis　watched　from　the　shadows；　knowing　he　was　overmatched　by　any　enemy　in　this　fight。　He　tried　to　gauge　his　panions；　though；　wanting　to　be　ready　if　needed。　Mostly　he　watched　Drizzt；　mesmerized　by　the　sheer　speed　of　the　drow's　charges　and　dodges。　Drizzt　had　always　been　quick　afoot；　but　this　display　was