Robert Salvatore - The Halfling’s Gem

Only the embarrassment of youthful love kept them apart at that moment, with Drizzt and Bruenor looking on.

“Captain Deudermont,” said Drizzt, “I give you Bruenor Battlehammer and Catti-brie, two dear friends and fine allies.”

“And we brought ye a present,” Bruenor chuckled. “Seeing as we got no money to pay ye for passage.” Bruenor walked over, grabbed Pinochet by the sleeve, and pulled the man front and center. “Captain o’ the ship I burned, by me guess.”

“Welcome to both of you,” Deudermont replied. “And I assure you that you have more than earned your passage.” The captain moved to confront Pinochet, suspecting the man’s importance.

“Do you know who I am?” the pirate said in a huff, thinking that he now had a more reasonable person to deal with than the surly dwarf.

“You are a pirate,” Deudermont replied calmly.

Pinochet cocked his head to study the captain. A sly smile crossed his face. “You have perhaps heard of Pinochet?”

Deudermont had thought, and feared, that he had recognized the man when Pinochet had first entered the cabin. The captain of the Sea Sprite had indeed heard of Pinochet—every merchant along the Sword Coast had heard of Pinochet.

“I demand that you release me and my men!” the pirate blustered.

“In time,” Deudermont replied. Drizzt, Bruenor, Wulfgar, and Catti-brie, not understanding the extent of the influence of the pirates, all looked at Deudermont in disbelief.

“I warn you that the consequences of your actions will be dire!” Pinochet continued, suddenly gaining the upper hand in the confrontation. “I am not a forgiving man, nor are my allies.”

Drizzt, whose own people commonly bent the tenets of justice to fit rules of station, understood the captain’s dilemma at once. “Let him go,” he said. Both of his magical scimitars came out in his hands, Twinkle glowing dangerously. “Let him go and give him a blade. Neither am I forgiving.”

Seeing the horrified look the pirate gave the drow, Bruenor was quick to join in. “Ayuh, Captain, let the dog free,” the dwarf scowled. “I only kept his head on his shoulders to give ye a livin’ gift. If ye don’t want him, …” Bruenor pulled his axe from his belt and swung it easily at the end of his arm.

Wulfgar didn’t miss the point. “Bare hands and up the mast!” the barbarian roared, flexing his muscles so they seemed they would burst. “The pirate and me! Let the winner know the glory of victory. And let the loser drop to his death!”

Pinochet looked at the three crazed warriors. Then, almost pleading for help, he turned back to Deudermont.

“Ah, ye’re all missing the fun.” Catti-brie grinned, not to be left out. “Where’s the sport in one of ye tearin’ the pirate apart? Give him the little boat and set him off.” Her spritely face turned suddenly grim, and she cast a wicked glare at Pinochet. “Give him a boat,” she reiterated, “and let him dodge me silver arrows!”

“Very well, Captain Pinochet,” Deudermont began, barely hiding a chuckle. “I would not invoke the rage of the pirates. You are a free man and may go when you choose.”

Pinochet snapped around, face to face with Deudermont.

“Or,” continued the captain of the Sea Sprite, “you and your crew can remain in my hold, under my personal protection, until we reach port.”

“You cannot control your crew?” the pirate spat.

“They are not my crew,” Deudermont replied. “And if these four chose to kill you, I daresay that I could do little to deter them.”

“It is not the way of my people to let our enemies live!” Drizzt interjected in a tone so callous that it sent shivers through the spines of even his closest friends. “Yet I need you, Captain Deudermont, and your ship.” He sheathed his blades in a lightning-quick movement. “I will let the pirate live in exchange for the completion of our arrangements.”

“The hold, Captain Pinochet?” Deudermont asked, waving two of his crewmen in to escort the pirate leader.

Pinochet’s eyes were back on Drizzt. “If you ever sail this way again, …” the stubborn pirate began ominously.

Bruenor kicked him in the behind. “Wag yer tongue again dog,” the dwarf roared, “and suren I’ll cut it out!”

Pinochet left quietly with Deudermont’s crewmen.

Later that day, while the crew of the Sea Sprite continued its repairs, the reunited friends retired to Drizzt and Wulfgar’s cabin to hear of Bruenor’s adventures in Mithril Hall. Stars twinkled in the evening sky and still the dwarf went on, talking of the riches he had seen, of the ancient and holy places he had come across in his homeland, of his many skirmishes with duergar patrols, and of his final, daring escape through the great undercity.

Catti-brie sat directly across from Bruenor, watching the dwarf through the swaying flame of the single candle burning on the table. She had heard his story before, but Bruenor could spin a tale as well as any, and she leaned forward in her chair, mesmerized once again. Wulfgar, with his long arms draped comfortably over her shoulders, had pulled his chair up behind her.

Drizzt stood by the window and gazed at the dreamy sky. How like the old times it all seemed, as if they had somehow brought a piece of Icewind Dale along with them. Many were the nights that the friends had gathered to swap tales of their pasts or to just enjoy the quiet of the evening together. Of course, a fifth member had been with the group then and always with an outlandish tale that outdid all the others.

Drizzt looked at his friends and then back to the night sky, thinking—hoping—of a day when the five friends would be rejoined.

A knock on the door made the three at the table jump, so engrossed were they—even Bruenor—in the dwarf’s story. Drizzt opened the door, and Captain Deudermont walked in.

“Greetings,” he said politely. “I would not interrupt, but I have some news.”

“Just getting to the good part,” Bruenor grumbled, “but it’ll get better with a bit o’ waiting!”

“I have spoken with Pinochet once again,” said Deudermont. “He is a very prominent man in this land, and it does not fit well that he set up three ships to stop us. He was after something.”

“Us,” Drizzt reasoned.

“He said nothing directly,” replied Deudermont, “but I believe that to be the case. Please understand that I cannot press him too far.”

“Bah! I’ll get the dog a barkin’!” Bruenor huffed.

“No need,” said Drizzt. “The pirates had to be looking for us.”

“But how would they know?” Deudermont asked.

“Balls of fire over Baldur’s Gate,” Wulfgar reasoned.

Deudermont nodded, remembering the display. “It would seem that you have attracted some powerful foes.”

“The man we seek knew that we would come into Baldur’s Gate,” said Drizzt. “He even left a message for us. It would not have been difficult for the likes of Artemis Entreri to arrange a signal detailing how and when we left.”

“Or to arrange the ambush,” Wulfgar said grimly.

“So it would seem,” said Deudermont.

Drizzt kept quiet, but suspected differently. Why would Entreri lead them all this way, only to have them killed by pirates? Someone else had entered the picture, Drizzt knew, and he could only guess that that person was Pasha Pook himself.

“But there are other matters we must discuss,” said Deudermont. “The Sea Sprite is seaworthy, but we have taken serious damage—as has the pirate ship we have captured.”

“Do you mean to sail both out of here?” Wulfgar asked.

“Aye,” replied the captain. “We shall release Pinochet and his men when we get to port. They will take the vessel from there.”