Robert Salvatore - Sea of Swords

The drow coughed and almost immediately began to breathe easier.

“Damn it all!” Catti-brie cried, and she ran across the room to the fallen elf, lifting her head gently with her hands, staring into those eyes.

Empty eyes.

Even as Drizzt opened his eyes once more, Le'lorinel's spirit fled her body.

“Come quickly!” said Regis, arriving at the door. The halfling paused, though, when he saw Drizzt lying there so badly wounded.

“What'd'ye know, Rumblebelly?” Bruenor said after a moment's pause.

“S-sorceress,” Regis stammered, still staring at Drizzt. “Um. . Morik's chasing her.” Never turning his eyes, he pointed across the way.

Wulfgar started off and Bruenor called to Catti-brie as she fell to her knees beside the drow, “Get yer bow out there! They'll be needing ye!”

The woman hesitated for a long while, staring helplessly at Drizzt, but Bruenor pushed her away.

“Go, and be quick!” he demanded. “I ain't one for killing wizards. Yer bow's better for that.”

Catti-brie rose and ran out of the room.

“But holler if ye see another ogre” the dwarf shouted behind her.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Bellany cursed under her breath as she gingerly picked her way along the mountainside to come in sight of the coast, only to see Bloody Keel riding the receding tide out of the cave. Her deck bristled with pirates, including, prominently, Sheila Kree, wounded but undaunted, shouting orders from the deck.

Bellany fell into her magical powers immediately, beginning to cast a spell that would transport her to the deck. She almost finished the casting, was uttering the very last words and making the final motions, when she was grabbed from behind.

Horrified, the sorceress turned her head to see Morik the Rogue, grim-faced and holding her fast.

“Let me go!” she demanded.

“Do not,” Morik said, shaking his head. “Do not, I beg.”

“You fool, they will kill me!” Bellany howled, trying hard to pull away. “I could have slain you, but I did not! I could have killed the halfling, but. .”

Her voice trailed away over those last few words, though, for the huge form of a barbarian warrior came bounding around the mountainside.

“What have you done to me?” the defeated woman asked Morik.

“Did you not let the halfling live?” the rogue reasoned.

“More than that! I cut him out,” Bellany answered defiantly. She went silent, for Wulfgar was there, towering over her.

“Who is this?” the enraged barbarian demanded.

“An observer,” Morik answered, “and nothing more. She is innocent.”

Wulfgar narrowed his eyes, staring hard at both Bellany and Morik, and his expression showed that he hardly believed the rogue.

But Morik had saved his life this day, and so he said nothing.

Wulfgar's eyes widened and he stepped forward as he noted the ship, sails unfurling, gliding out past the rocks. He leaped out to another rock, gaining a better vantage point, and lifted Aegis-fang as if he meant to hurl it at the departing ship.

But Bloody Keel was long out of even his range.

Catti-brie joined the group next, and wasted no time in putting up Taulmaril, leveling the bow at Bloody Keel's deck.

“The red-haired one,” Morik instructed. Bellany elbowed him hard in the ribs and scowled at him deeply.

Indeed, Catti-brie already had a bead drawn on Sheila Kree, the pirate easy to spot on the ship's deck.

But the woman paused and lifted her head from the bow for a wider view. She took note of the many waves breaking over submerged rocks, all about the escaping pirate, and understood well the skill needed to take a ship out through those dangerous waters.

Catti-brie leveled her bow again, scouring the deck.

When she found the wheel, and the crewman handling it, she let fly.

The pirate lurched forward, then slid down to the decking, taking the wheel over to the side as he went.

Bloody Keel cut a sharp turn, crewmen rushing desperately from every angle to grab the wheel.

Then came the crunch as the ship sailed over a jagged reef, and the wind in the sails kept her going, splintering the hull all the way.

Many were thrown from the ship with the impact. Others leaped into the icy waters, the ship disintegrating beneath them. Still others grabbed a rail or a mast and held on for dear life.

Amidst it all stood Sheila Kree. The fiery pirate looked up at the mountainside, up at Catti-brie, in defiance.

And she, too, went into the cold water, and Bloody Keel was no more than kindling, scattering in the rushing waters.

Few would escape that icy grip, and those who did, and those who never got onto the ship in the first place—ogre, half-ogre, and human alike—had no intention of engaging the mighty friends again.

The fight for Golden Cove was won.

They buried the elf who called herself Le'lorinel in the clay, in the cave complex, as near to the exit and the outside air and the starry night sky as possible.

Drizzt didn't help with the digging, for his vicious wound was far from healed, but he watched it, every moment. And when they had put the elf, Ellifain by her true name, in the cold ground and had covered her with damp and cold clay, Drizzt Do'Urden stood there, staring helplessly.

“It should not have been like this,” the drow said quietly to Catti-brie, who was standing beside him, supporting him.

“I heard that in yer voice,” the woman replied. “When ye telled me to save her.”

“And so I wish that you had.”

“Ye durn fool!” came a rocky voice from the side. “Get yerself healed quick so I can pound yer face!”

Drizzt turned to Bruenor, matching the dwarf's scowl.

“Ye think we'd've done that?” Bruenor demanded. “Do ye really? Ye think we'd've let ye die to save the one that killed ye?”

“You do not understand. .” Drizzt tried to explain, his lavender orbs wet with tears.

“And would ye have saved the damned elf instead of me?” the fiery dwarf bellowed. “Or instead of me girl? Ye say yes, elf, and I'll be wiping yer blood from me axe!”

The truth of that statement hit home to Drizzt, and he turned helplessly to Catti-brie.

“I would not have given her the potion,” the woman said definitively. “Ye caught me by surprise, to be sure, but I'd've been back to ye with the brew in a moment.”

Drizzt sighed and accepted the inevitable truth of that, but still, this whole thing seemed so very unfair to him, so very wrong. He had encountered Ellifain before this, and not so many years ago, in the Moonwood on his way back to the Underdark. The elf had come after him then with murderous rage, but her protective clan had held her back and had ushered Drizzt on his way. And Drizzt, though he knew that her anger was misplaced, could do nothing to persuade her or calm her.

And now this. She had come after him because of what his evil kin had done to her mother, to her family, to her.

Drizzt sighed at the irony of it all, his heart surely broken by this sad turn of fate. If Ellifain had revealed herself to him truly, he never would have found the strength to lift his blades against her, even if she came at him to kill him.

“I had no choice,” Drizzt said to Catti-brie, his voice barely a whisper.

“The elf killed herself,” the woman replied. Bruenor, coming over to join his friends, agreed wholeheartedly.

“She should be alive, and healing from those wounds she felt those decades ago,” the drow said.

To the side, Bruenor gave a loud snort. “Yerself's the one who should be alive,” the dwarf bellowed. “And so ye are.”

Drizzt looked at him and shrugged.

“Ye'd have gived the potion to me,” the dwarf insisted quietly, and Drizzt nodded.