精灵血脉四部曲-第32部分

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slumber；　the　vulnerable　soldier　would　never　awaken。

In　the　span　of　five　seconds；　only　two　dwarves　remained。　〃Drow！　Drow！〃　they　cried　out　in　warning。

One　went　down　heavily；　three　arrows　in　his　back。　He　struggled　to　get　back　to　his　knees；　but　two　dark　elves　fell　over　him；　hacking　with　their　swords。

The　remaining　dwarf；　rushing　back　to　rejoin　Dagna；　found　himself　facing　only　a　single　opponent。　The　drow　poked　forward　with　his　slender　sword；　the　dwarf　accepted　the　hit　and　returned　it　with　a　vicious　axe　chop　to　the　side；　blasting　the　drow's　arm　and　rending　his　fine　suit　of　chain　mail。

Past　the　falling　drow　and　into　the　darkness　the　terrified　dwarf　ran；　bursting　out　the　other　side　of　the　enchanted　globe；　right　into　the　front　ranks　of　Dagna's　slow…moving　wedge。

〃Drow！〃　the　frightened　dwarf　cried　once　more。

A　third　globe　of　darkness　came　up；　connecting　the　other　two。　A　volley　of　handcrossbow　bolts　whipped　through；　and　behind　it　came　the　dark　elves；　skilled　at　fighting　without　the　use　of　their　eyes。

Dagna　realized　that　clerics　would　be　needed　to　battle　this　dark　elven　magic；　but　when　he　tried　to　call　for　a　retreat；　it　came　out　instead　as　a　most　profound　yawn。

Something　hard　hit　him　on　the　side　of　the　head；　and　he　felt　himself　falling。

Amidst　the　chaos　and　the　imperable　darkness；　the　wedge　could　not　be　maintained；　and　the　surprised　dwarves　had　little　chance　against　a　nearly　even　number　of　skilled　and　prepared　dark　elves。　The　dwarves　wisely　broke　ranks；　many　keeping　the　presence　of　mind　to　reach　down　and　grab　a　fallen　kin；　and　rushed　back　the　way　they　had　e。

The　rout　was　on；　but　the　dwarves　were　not　novices　to　battle；　and　there　was　not　a　coward　among　them。　As　soon　as　they　got　out　of　the　darkened　areas　of　tunnel；　several　took　it　upon　themselves　to　reorganize　the　band。　Pursuit　was　hot—there　could　be　no　thoughts　of　turning　back　to　do　full　battle—but　burdened　by　nearly　ten　snoozing　dwarves；　Dagna　among　them；　the　slower　force　could　not　hope　to　outrun　the　quicker　drow。

A　call　went　up　for　blockers　and　there　came　no　shortage　of　volunteers。　When　it　sorted　out　a　moment　later；　the　dwarves　ran　on；　leaving　six　brave　soldiers　standing　shield　to　shield　in　the　corridor　to　cover　the　retreat。

〃Run　on　or　those　who've　fallen　will　have　died　in　vain！〃　cried　one　of　the　new　manders。

〃Run　on　for　the　sake　of　our　missing　king！〃　cried　another。

Those　in　the　back　ranks　of　the　fleeing　troupe　looked　often　over　their　stocky　shoulders　to　view　their　blocking　rades—until　a　globe　of　darkness　enveloped　the　defensive　line。

〃Run　on！〃　came　a　mon　cry；　from　those　fleeing　and　from　the　brave　blockers　alike。

The　fleeing　dwarves　heard　the　joining　of　battle　as　the　dark　elves　hit　their　stubborn；　blocking　rades。　They　heard　the　clang　of　steel　against　steel；　heard　the　grunts　of　solid　hits　and　glancing　blows。　They　heard　the　shriek　of　a　wounded　drow　and　smiled　grimly。

They　did　not　look　back；　but　bowed　their　heads　forward　and　ran　on；　each　vowing　silently　to　toast　the　lost　panions。　The　blockers　would　not　break　ranks　and　join　them　in　their　flight；　they　would　hold　the　line；　hold　the　enemy　back　until　their　lifeless　bodies　fell　to　the　stone。　It　was　all　done　in　loyalty　to　their　fleeing　kin；　an　act　of　supreme；　valiant　sacrifice；　dwarf　for　dwarf。

On　ran　the　dwarves；　and　if　one　tripped　on　the　stone；　four　others　paused　to　help　him　get　back　up　again。　If　one's　burden　of　a　sleeping　kinsman　became　too　cumbersome；　another　willingly　took　over　the　load。

One　younger　dwarf　sprinted　ahead　of　the　main　host　and　began　tap…tapping　his　hammer　against　the　stone　walls　in　the　appointed　signal　for　the　door　guards。　By　the　time　he　arrived　at　the　tunnel's　end；　the　great　barrier　was　already　cracked　open；　and　it　spread　wide　when　the　truth　of　the　rout　became　apparent。

The　dwarven　force　piled　into　the　guardroom；　some　remaining　just　inside　the　doorway　to　coax　on　any　possible　stragglers。　They　kept　the　door　open　until　the　last　minute；　until　a　globe　of　darkness　blocked　the　very　end　of　the　tunnel　and　a　handcrossbow　quarrel　cut　through　it　and　took　down　another　soldier。

The　tunnel　was　shut　and　sealed；　and　the　count　showed　that　twenty…seven　of　the　original　forty…one　had　escaped；　with　more　than　a　third　of　them　sleeping　soundly。

〃Get　the　whole　damned　army！〃　one　of　the　dwarves　suggested。

〃And　the　clerics；〃　added　another；　lifting　Dagna's　limp　head　to　accentuate　his　point。　〃We're　needing　clerics　to　stop　the　poisons　and　to　keep　the　damned　lights　on！〃

The　resourceful　dwarves　soon　determined　a　pecking　order　and　an　order　of　business。　Half　the　force　stayed　with　the　sleepers　and　the　guards；　the　other　half　ran　to　the　far　corners　of　Mithril　Hall；　shouting　the　call　to　arms。



Chapter17

Friendly　Burden



He　felt　so　very　vulnerable　with　his　scimitars　tucked　away；　and　often　paused　to　tell　himself　that　he　was　being　incredibly　foolhardy。　The　I　potential　cost—the　lives　of　his　friends—prodded　Drizzt　on；　though；　and　he　cautiously；　quietly；　placed　hand　over　hand；　inching　his　way　up　the　winding　and　treacherous　chute。　Years　ago；　when　he；　too；　was　a　creature　of　the　Underdark；　Drizzt　had　been　able　to　levitate　and　could　have　managed　the　chute　much　more　easily。　But　that　ability；　apparently　somehow　linked　to　the　strange　magical　emanations　of　the　deepest　regions；　had　flown　from　Drizzt　soon　after　he　had　stepped　onto　Toril's　surface。

He　hadn't　realized　how　far　he　had　fallen　and　silently　thanked　his　goddess；　Mielikki；　that　he　had　survived　the　plummet！　He　put　a　hundred　crawling　feet　behind　him；　some　of　the　going　easy　along　sloping　stretches；　other　parts　nearly　vertical。　As　nimble　as　any　thief；　the　drow　stubbornly　climbed　on。

What　had　happened　to　Guenhwyvar？　Drizzt　worried。　Had　the　panther　e　to　his　hurried　call？　Had　one　of　the　drow；　the　opportunistic　Jarlaxle；　perhaps；　simply　scooped　up　the　dropped　figurine　to　claim　the　panther　as　his　own？

Scaling　hand　over　hand；　Drizzt　neared　the　chute　opening。　The　blanket　had　not　been　replaced；　and　the　room　above　was　eerily　quiet。　Drizzt　knew　the　silence　meant　little　where　his　dark　elf　kin　were　concerned。　He　had　led　drow　scouting　parties　that　had　covered　fifty　miles　of　rough　tunnel　without　a　whisper　of　noise。　Rightly　fearful；　Drizzt　imagined　a　dozen　dark　elves　encircling　the　small　chute；　weapons　drawn；　awaiting　their　prisoner's　foolish　return。

But　Drizzt　had　to　go　up。　For　the　sake　of　his　imperiled　friends；　Drizzt　had　to　block　his　fear　that　Vierna　and　the　others　were　still　in　the　room。

He　sensed　danger　as　his　hand　inched　upward；　reaching　for　the　lip。　He　saw　nothing；　had　no　practical；　plausible　warning；　save　the　silent　shouts　of　his　warrior　instincts。

Drizzt　tried　to　dismiss　them；　but　his　hand　inevitably　moved　more　slowly。　How　many　times　had　his　insight—he　could　call　it　luck—saved　him？

Sensitive　fingers　slid　gingerly　up　the　stone；　Drizzt　resisted　his　anxious　urge　to　shoot　his　hand　up；　grab　the　lip　and　hoist　himself　over；　forcing　the　play　of　whatever　peril　awaited　him。　He　stopped；　felt　something；　barely　perceptible；　against　the　tip　of　his　middle　digit。

He　could　not　retract　his　hand！

As　soon　as　the　initial　moment　of　fear　passed；　Drizzt　realized　the　truth　of　the　spiderweb　trap　and　held　himself　steady。　He　had　witnessed　the　many　uses　of　magical　webs　in　Menzoberranzan；　the　First　House　of　the　city　was　actually　encircled　by　a　weblike　fence　of　unbreakable　strands。

And　now；　though　only　a　single　finger　was　barely　touching　the　magical　strands；　Drizzt　was　caught。

He　remained　perfectly　still；　perfectly　quiet；　concentrating　his　muscle　movements　so　that　his　weight　came　more　fully　against　the　nearly　vertical　wall。　Gradually　he　maneuvered　his　free　hand　to　his　cloak；　first　going　for　a　scimitar；　then　wisely　changing　his　mind　and　reaching　instead　for　one　of　the　tiny　quarrels　he　had　taken　from　the　dead　dark　elf　in　the　corridor　below。

Drizzt　froze　at　the　sound　of　drow　voices　above；　in　the　room。

He　couldn't　make　out　half　their　words；　but　he　discerned　that　they　were　talking　about　him—and　about　his　friends！　Catti…brie；　Wulfgar；　and　whoever　else　was　with　them　apparently　had　escaped。

And　the　panther　was　running　free；　Drizzt　heard　several　remarks；　fearful　warnings；　about　the　〃devil　cat。〃

More　determined　than　ever；　Drizzt　inched　his　free　hand　back　toward　Twinkle；　thinking　that　he　must　try　to　cut　through　the　magical　barrier；　must　get　up　from　the　chute　and　rush　to　his　friends'　aid。　The　moment　of　desperation　was　fleeting；　however；　lasting　only　as　long　as　it　took　Drizzt　to　realize　that　if　Vierna　had　sealed　this　chute　with　the　bulk　of　her　force　still　above　it；　then　there　must　be　another　path；　not　too　far；　from　level　to　level。

The　drow　voices　receded；　and　Drizzt　took　another　moment　to　solidify　his　precarious　perch。　He　then　worked　the　quarrel　free　of　his　cloak；　rubbing　it　against　the　stone；　then　against　his　clothing　in　an　effort　to　get　all　of　the　insidious　sleeping　poison　from　its　tip。　Gingerly　he　reached　his　hand　up　toward　the　trapped　finger；　bit　his　lip　to　keep　from　crying　out；　and　jabbed　the　quarrel　under　the　skin　and　worked　a　tear。

Drizzt　could　only　hope　he　had　removed　all　of　the　poison；　that　he　would　not　fall　asleep　and　tumble；　probably　to　his　death；　back　down　the　chute。　Finding　a　solid　grip　with　his　free　hand；　bracing　himself　for　the　jolt　and　the　pain；　he　jerked　his　arm　hard；　tearing　the　top；　trapped　skin　clean　of　his　finger。

He　nearly　swooned　for　the　pain；　nearly　lost　his　balance；　but　somehow　he　held　on；　brought　the　finger　to　his　mouth　to　suck　out　and　spit　out　the　possibly　poisoned　blood。

He　came　back　into　the　lower　corridor　five　minutes　later；　scimitars　in　hand；　eyes　darting　this　way　and　that　in　search　of　his　archenemy　and　in　an　effort　to　make　some　guess　about　which　way　he　should　travel。　He　knew　that　Mithril　Hall　was　somewhere　back　to　the　east；　but　realized　that　his　captives　had　been　taking　him　primarily　north。　If　there　was　indeed　a　second　way　up；　it　likely　was　beyond　the　chute；　farther　to　the　north。

He　replaced　Twinkle　in　its　sheath—not　wanting　its　glow　to　reveal　him—but　held　his　other　scimitar　out　in　front　of　him　as　he　made　his　stealthy　way　along　the　corridor。　There　were　few　side　passages；　and　Drizzt　was　glad　for　that；　realizing　that　any　direction　choice　he　might　make　at　this　point；　with　no　feasible　landmarks　to　guide　him；　woul