Robert Salvatore - The Two Swords

"Curious," said the elf.

"What is it?"

Innovindil looked at him, but did not reply. Her expression remained somewhat confused, though.

Drizzt looked back to the stone, then scanned the sky for any sign of the bird, which was long gone. With a shrug, he went back to his cleaning.

The mystery didn't take long to unfold, for within an hour, as Drizzt and Innovindil brushed Sunrise and Sunset, they heard a curious voice.

"Drizzit Dudden, hee hee hee."

The two turned to see Ivan and Pikel Bouldershoulder coming into view, and they both knew at once that the bird had been one of Pikel's spies.

"Well, ain't yerself the fine sight for a tired dwarf's eyes," Ivan greeted, smiling wide as he moved into the camp.

"Well met, yourself," Drizzt replied, stepping forward to clasp the dwarf's offered hand. "And curiously met!"

"Are you not far from the dwarven lines?" Innovindil asked, coming over to similarly greet the brothers. "Or are you, like we two, trapped outside of Mithral Hall?"

"Bah, just come from there," said Ivan. "Ain't no one trapped here—Bruenor busted out to the east and we're holding the ground to the Surbrin."

"Bruenor?" Innovindil asked before Drizzt could.

"Red-bearded dwarf, grumbles a lot?" said Ivan.

"Bruenor fell at Shallows," Drizzt said. "I saw it myself."

"Yeah, he fell, but he bounced," said Ivan. "Priests prayed over him for days and days, but it was Regis that finally woke him up."

"Regis?" Drizzt gasped, and he found it hard to breathe.

"Little one?" Ivan said. "Some call him Rumblebelly."

"Hee hee hee," said Pikel.

"What're ye gone daft, Drizzt?" asked Ivan. "I'm thinking ye're knowing Bruenor and Regis."

Drizzt looked at Innovindil. "This cannot be."

The elf wore a wide smile.

"Ye thought 'em dead, didn't ye?" Ivan asked. "Bah, but where's yer faith then? Nothing dead about them two, I tell ye! Just left them a few days ago." Ivan's face grew suddenly more somber. "But I got some bad news for ye, elf." He looked to the sword and Drizzt's heart sank once more.

"Wulfgar's girl, she took that blade and come out on her own," Ivan explained. "Me and me brother—"

"Me brudder!" Pike! proudly interrupted.

"Me and me brother come out after her, but we found her too late."

"Catti-brie—" Drizzt gasped.

"Nah, not her. Wulfgar's girl. Delly. We found her dead a couple o' days back. Then we spotted yerself flying about on that durned winged horse and so we came to find ye. Bruenor and Regis, Catti-brie and Wulfgar been worrying about ye terribly, ye got to know."

Drizzt stood there transfixed as the weight of the words washed over him.

"Wulfgar and Catti-brie, too?" he asked in a whisper.

Innovindil rushed up beside him and hugged him, and he truly needed the support.

"Ye been out here thinking yer friends all dead?" Ivan asked.

"Shallows was overrun," Drizzt said.

"Well, course it was, but me brother—"

"Me brudder!" Pikel cried on cue.

Ivan snickered. "Me brother there built us a statue to fool them orcs, and with Thibbledorf Pwent beside us, we give them the what's-for! We got 'em all out o' Shallows and run back to Mithral Hall. Been killing orcs ever since. Hunnerds o' the dogs."

"We saw the battlefield north of Keeper's Dale," Innovindil remarked. "And the blasted ridgeline."

"Boom!" cried Pikel.

Drizzt stood there shaking his head, overwhelmed by it all. Could it be true? Could his friends be alive? Bruenor, Wulfgar, and Regis? And Catti-brie? Could it be true? He looked to his partner, to find Innovindil smiling warmly back at him.

"I know not what to say," he admitted.

"Just be happy," she said. "For I am happy for you."

Drizzt crushed her in a hug.

"And they'll be happy to see ye, don't ye doubt," Ivan said to Drizzt. "But there's a few tears to be shed for poor Delly. I don't know what possessed the girl to run off like that."

The words hit Drizzt hard, and he jumped back from Innovindil and turned an angry glower over the sentient sword.

"I do," he said and he cursed Khazid'hea under his breath.

"The sword can dominate its wielder?" Innovindil asked.

Drizzt walked over and grabbed the blade, lifting it before his eyes. He sent his questions telepathically to Khazid'hea, feeling the life there and demanding answers.

But then something else occurred to him.

"Get yer flying horses tacked up then," said Ivan. "The sooner we get ye back to Mithral Hall, the better for everyone. Yer friends are missing ye sorely, Drizzt Do'Urden, and I'm thinking that ye're missing them just as much."

The drow wasn't about to argue that, but as he stood there holding the magnificent sword, the sword that cut through just about anything, his thoughts began cascading down a different avenue.

"I can defeat him," he said.

"What's that?" asked Ivan.

"What do you mean?" Innovindil asked.

Drizzt turned to them and said, "I outfought Obould."

"Ye fought him?" an incredulous Ivan spouted.

"I fought him, not so long ago, on a hillock not so far from here," Drizzt explained. "I fought him and I scored hit after hit, but my blades could not penetrate his armor." He brought Khazid'hea up and sent it slashing across in a powerful stroke. "Do you know the well-earned nickname of this blade?" he asked.

"Cutter," he answered when the other three just stared at him. "With this sword, I can defeat Obould."

"It is a fight for another day," Innovindil said to him. "After you are reunited with those who love you and fear you are lost to them."

Drizzt shook his head. "Obould is moving now, hilltop to hilltop. He is confident and so his entourage is small. I can get to him, and with this blade, I can defeat him."

"Your friends deserve to see you, and your friendship demands you attend to that," said Innovindil.

"My service to Bruenor is a service to all the land," Drizzt replied. "The folk of the North deserve to be free of the hold of Obould. I am given that chance now. To avenge Shallows and all the other towns, to avenge the dwarves who fell before the invaders. To avenge Tarathiel—we'll not get this chance again, perhaps."

The mention of Tarathiel seemed to take all the argument out of the elf.

"Ye're going after him now?" Ivan asked.

"I cannot think of a better time."

Ivan considered things for a bit, then began to nod.

"Hee hee hee," Pikel agreed.

"Ye hit the dog for meself, too," Ivan remarked, and his smile erupted with sudden inspiration. He pulled out his hand crossbow, of near-perfect drow design, and tossed it to Drizzt, then pulled the bandolier of explosive darts from over his shoulder and handed them to the drow.

"Pop a couple o' these into the beast and watch him hop!" Ivan declared.

"Hee hee hee."

"Me and me brother …" Ivan started to say, then he paused and looked at Pikel, expecting an interruption. Pikel stared back at him in confusion.

Ivan sighed. "Me and me brother—" he started again.

"Me brudder!"

"Yeah, us two'll get back to Mithral Hall and tell yer friends that ye're out here," Ivan offered. "We'll be expecting ye soon enough."

Drizzt turned to his elf friend. "Go with them," he bade her. "Watch over them from above and make sure they arrive safely."

"I am to allow you to go off alone after King Obould?"

Drizzt held up the vicious sword, and the bandolier and crossbow.

"I can defeat him," he promised.

"If you can even get him alone," Innovindil argued. "I can aid in that."

Drizzt shook his head. "I will find him and watch him from afar," he promised. "I will find an opportunity and I will seize it. Obould will fall to this sword in my hand."

"Bah, it's not a job for yerself alone," Ivan argued.