精灵血脉四部曲-第58部分

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〃Entreri　is　dead；〃　Regis　assured　her；　not　quite　understanding　her　hesitation。

Catti…brie　nodded　absently；　though　her　thoughts

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R。　A。　Salvatore

remained　filled　with　memories　of　being　Entreri's　captive。　She　remembered　the　man's　earthy　smell　and　equated　that　smell　now　with　the　aroma　of　pure　evil。　She　had　been　so　powerless　。　。　。　like　the　moment　when　the　ceiling　fell　in　on　Wulfgar。　Powerless　now；　she　wondered；　when　Drizzt　might　need　her？

Catti…brie　firmed　her　jaw　and　took　the　dagger。　She　clutched　it　tightly；　then　slid　it　into　her　belt。

〃Ye　mustn't　tell　Bruenor；〃　she　said。

〃He'll　know；〃　Regis　argued。　〃I　might　have　been　able　to　turn　aside　his　curiosity　about　Drizzf　s　departure桪rizzt　is　always　leaving梑ut　Bruenor　will　soon　realize　that　you　are　gone。〃

Catti…brie　had　no　argument　for　that；　but；　again；　she　didn't　care。　She　had　to　get　to　Drizzt。　This　was　her　quest；　her　way　of　taking　back　control　of　a　life　that　had　quickly　been　turned　upside　down。

She　rushed　to　the　bed；　wrapped　Regis　in　a　big　hug；　and　kissed　him　hard　on　the　cheek。　〃Farewell；　me　friend！〃　she　cried；　dropping　him　to　the　mattress。　〃Farewell！〃

Then　she　was　gone；　and　Regis　sat　there；　his　chin　in　his　plump　hands。　So　many　things　had　changed　in　the　last　day。　First　Drizzt；　and　now　Catti…brie。　With　Wulfgar　gone；　that　left　only　Regis　and　Bruenor　of　the　five　friends　remaining　in　Mithril　Hall。

Bruenor！　Regis　rolled　to　his　side　and　groaned。　He　buried　his　face　in　his　hands　at　the　thought　of　the　mighty　dwarf。　If　Bruenor　ever　learned　that　Regis　had　aided　Catti…brie　on　her　dangerous　way；　he　would　rip　the　halfling　apart。

Regis　couldn't　begin　to　think　of　how　he　might　tell　the　dwarven　king。　Suddenly　he　regretted　his　decision；　felt　stupid　for　letting　his　emotions；　his　sympathies；　get　in　the　way　of　good　judgment。　He　understood　Catti…brie's　need　and　felt　that　it　was　right　for　her　to　go　after　Drizzt；　if　that　was　what　she　truly　desired　to　do梥he　was　a　grown　woman；　after　all；　and　a　fine　warrior梑ut　Bruenor　wouldn't　understand。

Neither　would　Drizzt；　the　halfling　realized；　and　he　groaned　again。　He　had　broken　his　word　to　the　drow；　had　told　the　secret　on　the　very　first　day！　And　his　mistake　had　sent　Catti…brie　running　into　danger。

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Starless　Night

〃Drizzt　will　kill　me！〃　he　wailed。

Catti…brie's　head　came　back　around　the　doorjamb；　her　smile　wider；　more　full　of　life；　than　Regis　had　seen　it　in　a　long；　long　time。　Suddenly　she　seemed　the　spirited　lass　that　he　and　the　others　had　e　to　love；　the　spirited　young　woman　who　had　been　lost　to　the　world　when　the　ceiling　had　fallen　on　Wulfgar。　Even　the　redness　had　flown　from　her　eyes；　replaced　by　a　joyful　inner　sparkle。　〃Just　ye　hope　that　Drizzt　es　back　to　kill　ye！〃　Catti…brie　chirped；　and　she　blew　the　halfling　a　kiss　and　rushed　away。

〃Wait！〃　Regis　called　halfheartedly。　Regis　was　just　as　glad　that　Catti…brie　didn't　stop。　He　still　thought　himself　irrational；　even　stupid；　and　still　knew　that　he　would　have　to　answer　to　both　Bruenor　and　Drizzt　for　his　actions；　but　that　last　smile　of　Catti…brie's；　her　spark　of　life　so　obviously　returned；　had　settled　the　argument。

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Chapter　3

BAENRE'S　BLUFF

he　mercenary　silently　approached　the　western　end　of　the　Baenre　pound；　creeping　from　shadow　to　shadow　to　get　near　the　silvery　spi…derweb　fence　that　surrounded　the　place。　Like　any　who　came　near　House　Baenre；　which　enpassed　twenty　huge　and　hollowed　stalagmites　and　thirty　adorned　stalactites；　Jarlaxle　found　himself　impressed　once　more。　By　Underdark　standards；　where　space　was　at　a　premium；　the　place　was　huge；　nearly　half　a　mile　long　and　half　that　wide。

Everything　about　the　structures　of　House　Baenre　was　marvelous。　Not　a　detail　had　been　overlooked　in　the　craftsmanship；　slaves　worked　continually　to　carve　new　designs　into　those　few　areas　that　had　not　yet　been　detailed。　The　magical　touches；　supplied　mostly　by　Gromph；　Matron　Baenre's　elderboy　and　the　archmage　of　Menzoberranzan；　were　no　less　spectacular；　right　down　to　the　predominant　purple　and　blue　faerie　fire　hues　highlighting　just　the　right　areas　of　the　mounds　for　the　most　awe…inspiring　effect。

The　pound's　twenty…foot…high　fence；　which　seemed

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Starless　Night

so　tiny　anchoring　the　gigantic　stalagmite　mounds；　was　among　the　most　wonderful　creations　in　all　of　Menzoberranzan。　Some　said　that　it　was　a　gift　from　Lloth；　though　none　in　the　city；　except　perhaps　ancient　Matron　Baenre；　had　been　around　long　enough　to　witness　its　construction。　The　barrier　was　formed　of　iron…strong　strands；　thick　as　a　drow's　arm　and　enchanted　to　grasp　and　stubbornly　cling　stronger　than　any　spider's　web。　Even　the　sharpest　of　drow　weapons；　arguably　the　finest　edged　weapons　in　all　of　Toril；　could　not　nick　the　strands　of　Baenre's　fence；　and；　once　caught；　no　monster　of　any　strength；　not　a　giant　or　even　a　dragon；　could　hope　to　break　free。

Normally；　visitors　to　House　Baenre　would　have　sought　one　of　the　symmetrical　gates　spaced　about　the　pound。　There　a　watchman　could　have　spoken　the　day's　mand　and　the　strands　of　the　fence　would　have　spiraled　outward；　opening　a　hole。

Jarlaxle　was　no　normal　visitor；　though；　and　Matron　Baenre　had　instructed　him　to　keep　his　ings　and　goings　private。　He　waited　in　the　shadows；　perfectly　hidden　as　several　foot　soldiers　ambled　by　on　their　patrol。　They　were　not　overly　alert；　Jarlaxle　noted；　and　why　should　they　be；　with　the　forces　of　Baenre　behind　them？　House　Baenre　held　at　least　twenty…five　hundred　capable　and　fabulously　armed　soldiers　and　boasted　sixteen　high　priestesses。　No　other　house　in　the　city梟o　five　houses　bined梒ould　muster　such　a　force。

The　mercenary　glanced　over　to　the　pillar　of　Narbondel　to　discern　how　much　longer　he　had　to　wait。　He　had　barely　turned　back　to　the　Baenre　pound　when　a　horn　blew；　clear　and　strong；　and　then　another。

A　chant；　a　low　singing；　arose　from　inside　the　pound。　Foot　soldiers　rushed　to　their　posts　and　came　to　rigid　attention；　their　weapons　presented　ceremoniously　before　them。　This　was　the　spectacle　that　showed　the　honor　of　Menzoberranzan；　the　disciplined；　precision　drilling　that　mocked　any　potential　enemy's　claims　that　dark　elves　were　too　chaotic　to　e　together　in　mon　cause　or　mon　defense。　Non…drow　mercenaries；　particularly　the　gray　dwarves；　often　paid　handsome　sums　of　gold　and　gems　simply　to　view　the　spectacle　of　the　changing　of　the　Baenre　house　guard。

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R。　A。　Salvatore

Streaks　of　orange；　red；　green；　blue；　and　purple　light　rushed　up　the　stalagmite　mounds；　to　meet　similar　streaks　ing　down　from　above；　from　the　jagged　teeth　of　the　Baenre　pound's　stalactites。　Enchanted　house　emblems；　worn　by　the　Baenre　guards；　created　this　effect　as　male　dark　elves　rode　subterranean　lizards　that　could　walk　equally　well　on　floors；　walls；　or　ceilings。

The　music　continued。　The　glowing　streaks　formed　myriad　designs　in　brilliant　formations　up　and　down　the　pound；　many　of　them　taking　on　the　image　of　an　arachnid。　This　event　occurred　twice　a　day；　every　day；　and　any　drow　within　watching　distance　paused　and　took　note　each　and　every　time。　The　changing　of　the　Baenre　house　guard　was　a　symbol　in　Menzoberranzan　of　both　House　Baenre's　incredible　power；　and　the　city's　undying　fealty　to　Lloth；　the　Spider　Queen。

Jarlaxle；　as　he　had　been　instructed　by　Matron　Baenre；　used　the　spectacle　as　a　distraction。　He　crept　up　to　the　fence；　dropped　his　wide…brimmed　hat　to　hang　at　his　back；　and　slipped　a　mask　of　black　velvet　cloth；　with　eight　joint…wired　legs　protruding　from　its　sides；　over　his　head。　With　a　quick　glance；　the　mercenary　started　up；　hand　over　hand；　climbing　the　thick　strands　as　though　they　were　ordinary　iron。　No　magical　spells　could　have　duplicated　this　effect；　no　spells　of　levitation　and　teleportation；　or　any　other　kind　of　magical　travel；　could　have　brought　someone　beyond　the　barrier。　Only　the　rare　and　treasured　spider　mask；　loaned　to　Jarlaxle　by　Gromph　Baenre；　could　get　someone　so　easily　into　the　well…guarded　pound。

Jarlaxle　swung　a　leg　over　the　top　of　the　fence　and　slipped　down　the　other　side。　He　froze　in　place　at　the　sight　of　an　orange　flash　to　his　left。　Curse　his　luck　if　he　had　been　caught。　The　guard　would　likely　pose　no　danger梐ll　in　the　Baenre　pound　knew　the　mercenary　well梑ut　if　Matron　Baenre　learned　that　he　had　been　discovered；　she　would　likely　flail　the　skin　from　his　bones。

The　flaring　light　died　away　almost　immediately；　and　as　Jarlaxle's　eyes　adjusted　to　the　changing　hues；　he　saw　a　handsome　young　drow　with　neatly　cropped　hair　sitting　astride　a　large　lizard；　perpendicular　to　the　floor　and　holding　a　ten…

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Starless　Night

foot…long　mottled　lance。　A　death　lance；　Jarlaxle　knew。　It　was　coldly　enchanted；　its　hungry　and　razor…edged　tip　revealing　its　deadly　chill　to　the　mercenary's　heat…sensing　eyes。

Well　met；　Berg'inyon　Baenre；　the　mercenary　flashed　in　the　intricate　and　silent　hand　code　of　the　drow。　Berg'inyon　was　Matron　Baenre's　youngest　son；　the　leader　of　the　Baenre　lizard　riders；　and　no　enemy　of；　or　stranger　to；　the　mercenary　leader。

And　you；　Jarlaxle；　Berg'inyon　flashed　back。　Prompt；　as　always。

As　your　mother　demands；　Jarlaxle　signaled　back。　Berg'inyon　flashed　a　smile　and　motioned　for　the　mercenary　to　be　on　his　way；　then　kicked　his　mount　and　scampered　up　the　side　of　the　stalagmite　to　his　ceiling　patrol。

Jarlaxle　liked　the　youngest　Baenre　male。　He　had　spent　many　days　with　Berg'inyon　lately；　learning　from　the　young　fighter；　for　Berg'inyon　had　once　been　a　classmate　of　Drizzt　Do'Urden's　at　Melee…Magthere　and　had　often　sparred　against　the　scimitar…wielding　drow。　Berg'inyon's　battle　moves　were　fluid　and　near…perfect；　and　knowledge　of　how　Drizzt　had　defeated　the　young　Baenre　heightened　Jarlaxle's　respect　for　the　renegade。

Jarlaxle　almost　mourned　that　Drizzt　Do'Urden　would　soon　be　no　more。

Once　past　the　fence；　the　mercenary　replaced　the　spider　mask　in　a　pouch　and　walked　nonchalantly　through　the　Baenre　pound；　keeping　his　telltale　hat　low　on　his　back　and　his　cloak　tight　about　his　shoulder；　hiding　the　fact　that　he　wore　a　sleeveless　tunic。　He　couldn't　hide　his　bald　head；　though；　an　unusual　trait；　and　he　knew　that　more　than　one　of　the　Baenre　guards　recognized　him　as　he　made　his　way　casually　to　the　house's　great　mound；　the　huge　and　ornate　stalagmite　wherein　resided　the　Baenre　nobles。

Those　guards　didn't　notice；　though；　or　pretended　not　to；　as　they　h