Elaine Cunningham - The Best of the Realms, Book I

Entreri could hardly contain his grin as he recalledthat moment of terror for the poor, trembling baker, when Jarlaxle had turnedto him and elicited a promise that he would not tell anyone about the theft.

After tasting one of the man's creations, a sugarycookie, Jarlaxle had then gone one step further, insisting in no uncertainterms that the man surrender his previous life and join in the group at thecave.

And there he was, Entreri mused, working away by thefire pit on some new creation to satisfy the unusual creature who most surelyterrified him beyond anything he had ever known.

A shout of victory from below turned the assassin's eyesback to the game, where Jarlaxle had apparently lost a rather large pot, to thedelight of the three people rolling against him and their four watchingfriends. A short time later Jarlaxle lost yet again, and he put his hands up indefeat and walked away from the game, moving to the ladders and climbing up tosit beside his friend.

"And when all is counted, Jarlaxle makes just abit, while giving the others the satisfaction that they finished strong,"Entreri reasoned.

"That and the hope that their luck will continuewhen next we play," the drow agreed.

"This is as sorry a band in as worthless a landas I have ever known," said Entreri.

"Ever do you see the dark side of it all."

"As compared to?"

"I have learned much of the region from ourdice-rolling friends," said Jarlaxle. "And there is fat PiterMcRuggle," he added, motioning down at the hardworking baker. "A fineand useful chef."

"All we need are a few women, and why wouldanyone leave?" came the assassin's predictably sarcastic reply.

"Well, there is Jehn, and of coursePatermeg," Jarlaxle reminded, speaking of the bands two female associates,one a weather-beaten human and the other a half-orc- and reflecting much moreof her orc heritage than her human side. "An inspirational pair."

"To anyone aspiring to celibacy, one wouldsuppose."

Jarlaxle laughed, but Entreri was hardly in the moodto follow that lead. Both he and the dark elf turned as a figure moved by. itwas Pagg, the group's leader.

"You two'll be out on the road later thistenday," he instructed. "And far off to the south. I'm hearing thatthere might be another caravan coming through. Ye'll get to prove yer mettleand yer worth."

He walked on by, and neither Entreri nor Jarlaxle evenbothered to follow him with their gazes.

"He keeps hoping that he'll find another wealthyhit," said the drow. "Akin to the one that put him in the positionof leadership in the first place."

Entreri nodded his agreement, and did glance over atthe departing Pagg. The man had risen to prominence among the ruffians with oneparticularly profitable haul-the only profitable haul the ragtag bunch had everrealized. Pagg had led them to intercept a merchant caravan moving fromSundabar to Silverymoon, and buried among the more mundane goods the thieveshad found one wagon laden with actual treasure.

That had been a long time ago and a long way away,however, as the band had then been fervently pursued by some of Sundabar'squite capable authorities. When the dust had settled, their numbers depleted,their leader dead, the remaining thugs had allowed Pagg the position ofleadership, and he had taken them … nowhere.

Entreri, no stranger to thieves' guilds and the workingsof noblemen, figured it was only a matter of time before Pagg angered the wronggroup and got his band exterminated.

"Perhaps when we set out tomorrow, we should justkeep walking," Entreri remarked.

Jarlaxle looked at him curiously, as if he was missingthe entire point of it all.

"Well," the drow began, "I cannot leavebaker Piter trapped here with these uncouth and uncivilized creatures."Both looked down at the poor man, working furiously as always, over by the firepit. "And I assured him that I would supply him with better equipment-aproper oven, even."

"You feel responsible for him? If it weren't foryou, the thugs would have murdered him on the road."

"To the loss of all the world," Jarlaxledramatically replied. "For truly the man is an artist with thespoon."

Artemis Entreri just snorted and looked away.

The next day, Jarlaxle was back at his gaming area,surrounded by eager gamblers. Dice rolled and cheers erupted repeatedly, andwhen Entreri finally found his curiosity piqued, he moved closer to see whatmight be going on.

"Quick Cut and Snatcher are coming in with acatch," one filthy wretch said to him.

The stupid nicknames such lowly thugs always seemed toplace on each other never ceased to amaze Entreri. He hardly paid attentionother than that quick musing, focusing instead on events at the dice area.

Entreri's eyes widened as he saw more coins there thanhe thought the entire band could possibly possess, piles and piles of gold andsilver, and even a few jewels. He started toward Jarlaxle, thinking to ask whatmight be going on, when he realized suddenly that those piles, most of which werein front of the rogues, had to be a portion of Jarlaxle's wealth!

The notion of Jarlaxle actually losing to those foolswas beyond comprehension, and that led Entreri quickly down a different path ofreasoning.

He finally caught the gaze of Jarlaxle, who smiled andshrugged, as if helpless, and motioned with his chin, albeit subtly, toward thenarrow cave entrance.

The one escape from the lair.

Entreri moved back from the gathering and the shouting,found a few handholds and deftly went up onto the lowest ledge. His attention wasdiverted before he could even begin to focus back on the surprising game, forhe heard a commotion over by the door.

Several dark forms appeared in that opening, and asthey entered, Entreri recognized a couple of the missing ruffians-the stupidlynicknamed men who had been sent out on the road that morning-along with a pairof new additions: two young women, plainly dressed and obviously terrified.

Daughters of fishermen, Entreri realized.

The thugs pushed them forward into the open area, andall interest in gaming fell away fast as the band came to recognize theirnewest playthings. They surrounded the girls. Even Jhen and Patermeg came outto inspect the prize, with ugly Patermeg pawing the two girls rather lewdly, tothe hoots and howls of the appreciative audience.

"Wonderful," Entreri muttered when Jarlaxlecame over to stand just below him. "And I will bet that our compatriotsfound a king's treasure trove on the cart with those two. Or perhaps we canransom them off to their families for a goat, or even a fat pig."

"A win is a win," Jarlaxle chimed in, andEntreri stared at him incredulously.

"Did I just notice you losing a rather large sumof coin to these dolts?"

"The coins are only shiny metal unless one has aplace at which to spend them," the drow replied.

Entreri didn't even try to search for the reasoningbehind that statement.

"Wonderful life, this," he muttered."So much hardship for a pittance and the empty joys in reveling in themisery of others."

"Empty joys?" Jarlaxle echoed, and whenEntreri looked at him, the dark elf seemed like a smug and judgmental mirrorreflecting back upon him.

Unwilling to acknowledge that sly retort, howevertruthful, in any positive way, the assassin just shook his head and stood as ifto leave.

"My friend," said Jarlaxle, "it is acave, with but one easily defended exit. Where are my coins and jewels togo?"

Entreri started to offer a smug retort, but he stoppedshort as Jarlaxle's intent became clear. One corner of Entreri's lip curled, asclose to an expression of intrigue as he had been able to muster on histypically dour face in some time, something the grinning Jarlaxle obviouslydidn't miss.

"They are a dozen," the assassin remindedhis black-skinned companion. "Seasoned and skilled."