The Halfling’s Gem (14 page)
“That is my job,” said the dazed man.
“And surely you have eyes at the gates as well?” Entreri inquired with a wink.
I have many friends,” the harbormaster replied. “Nothing
happens in Baldur’s Gate without my knowledge.”
Entreri looked to Regis. “Give it to him,” he ordered.
Regis, not understanding, responded to the command with a blank stare.
“The pouch,” the assassin explained, using the same light-hearted tone that had marked his casual conversation with the duped harbormaster.
Regis narrowed his eyes and did not move, as defiant an act as he had ever dared to show his captor.
“The pouch,” Entreri reiterated, his tone now deadly serious. “Our gift for your friends.” Regis hesitated for just a second, then threw the tiny pouch to the harbormaster.
“Enquire of every ship and every rider that comes through Baldur’s Gate,” Entreri explained to the harbormaster. “Seek out a band of travelers—two at the least, one an elf, likely to be cloaked in secrecy, and the other a giant, yellow-haired barbarian. Seek them out, my friend. Find the adventurer who calls himself Drizzt Do’Urden. That gift is for his eyes alone. Tell him that I await his arrival in Calimport.” He sent a wicked glance over at Regis. “With more gifts.”
The harbormaster slipped the tiny pouch into his pocket and gave Entreri his assurances that he would not fail the task.
“I must be going,” Entreri said, pulling Regis to his feet. “We meet tonight,” he reminded the harbormaster. “An hour after the sun is down.”
Regis knew that Pasha Pook had connections in Baldur’s Gate, but he was amazed at how well the assassin seemed to know his way around. In less than an hour, Entreri had secured their room and enlisted the services of two thugs to stand guard
over Regis while the assassin went on some errands.
“Time for your second trick?” he asked Regis slyly just before leaving. He looked at the two thugs leaning against the far wall of the room, engrossed in some less-than-intellectual debate about the reputed virtues of a local “lady.”
“You might get by them,” Entreri whispered.
Regis turned away, not enjoying the assassin’s macabre sense of humor.
“But, remember, my little thief, once outside, you are on the streets—in the shadow of the alleyways, where you will find no friends, and where I shall be waiting.” He spun away with an evil chuckle and swept through the door.
Regis looked at the two thugs, now locked in a heated argument. He probably could have walked out the door at that very moment.
He dropped back on his bed with a resigned sigh and awkwardly locked his hands behind his head, the sting in one hand pointedly reminding him of the price of bravery.
Baldur’s Gate was divided into two districts: the lower city of the docks and the upper city beyond the inner wall, where the more important citizens resided. The city had literally burst its bounds with the wild growth of trade along the Sword Coast. Its old wall set a convenient boundary between the transient sailors and adventurers who invariably made their way in and the long-standing houses of the land. “Halfway to everywhere” was a common phrase there, referring to the city’s roughly equal proximity to Waterdeep in the North and Calimport in the South, the two greatest cities of the Sword Coast.
In light of the constant bustle and commotion that followed
such a title, Entreri attracted little attention as he slipped through the lanes toward the inner city. He had an ally, a powerful wizard named Oberon, there who was also an associate of Pasha Pook’s. Oberon’s true loyalty, Entreri knew, lay with Pook, and the wizard would no doubt promptly contact the guildmaster in Calimport with news of the recovered pendant, and of Entreri’s imminent return.
But Entreri cared little whether Pook knew he was coming or not. His intent was behind him, to Drizzt Do’Urden, not in front, to Pook, and the wizard could prove of great value to him in learning more of the whereabouts of his pursuers.
After a meeting that lasted throughout the remainder of the day, Entreri left Oberon’s tower and made his way back to the harbormaster’s for the arranged rendezvous with the captain of the Calimport merchant ship. Entreri’s visage had regained its determined confidence; he had put the unfortunate incident of the night before behind him, and everything was going smoothly again. He fingered the ruby pendant as he approached the shack.
A tenday was too long a delay.
Regis was hardly surprised later that night when Entreri returned to the room and announced that he had “persuaded” the captain of the Calimport vessel to change his schedule.
They would leave in three days.
ulfgar heaved and strained on the ropes, trying to keep the mainsail full of the scant ocean wind as the crew of the
Sea Sprite
looked on in amazement. The currents of the Chionthar pushed against the ship, and a sensible captain would normally have dropped anchor to wait for a more favorable breeze to get them in. But Wulfgar, under the tutelage of an old sea dog named Mirky, was doing a masterful job. The individual docks of Baldur’s Gate were in sight, and the
Sea Sprite
, to the cheers of several dozen sailors watching the monumental pull, would soon put in.
“I could use ten of him on my crew,” Captain Deudermont remarked to Drizzt.
The drow smiled, ever amazed at the strength of his young friend. “He seems to be enjoying himself. I would never have put him as a sailor.”
“Nor I,” replied Deudermont. “I only hoped to profit from
his strength if we engaged with pirates. But Wulfgar found his sea legs early on.”
“And he enjoys the challenge,” Drizzt added. “The open ocean, the pull of the water, and of the wind, tests him in ways different than he has ever known.”
“He does better than many,” Deudermont replied. The experienced captain looked back downriver to where the open ocean waited. “You and your friend have been on but one short journey, skirting a coastline. You cannot yet appreciate the vastness and the power of the open sea.”
Drizzt looked at Deudermont with sincere admiration and even a measure of envy. The captain was a proud man, but he tempered his pride with a practical rationale. Deudermont respected the sea and accepted it as his superior. And that acceptance, that profound understanding of his own place in the world, gave the captain as much of an advantage as any man could gain over the untamed ocean. Drizzt followed the captain’s longing stare and wondered about this mysterious allure the open waters seemed to hold over so many.
He considered Deudermont’s last words. “One day, perhaps,” he said quietly.
They were close enough now, and Wulfgar released his hold and slumped, exhausted, to the deck. The crew worked furiously to complete the docking, but each stopped at least once to slap the huge barbarian across the shoulder. Wulfgar was too tired to even respond.
“We will be in for two days,” Deudermont told Drizzt. “It was to be a tenday, but I am aware of your haste. I spoke with the crew last night, and they agreed—to a man—to put right back out again.”
“Our thanks to them, and to you,” Drizzt replied sincerely.
Just then, a wiry, finely dressed man hopped down to the
pier. “What ho,
Sea Sprite?”
he called. “Is Deudermont at your reins?”
“Pellman, the harbormaster,” the captain explained to Drizzt. “He is!” he called to the man. “And glad to see Pellman, as well!”
“Well met, Captain,” Pellman called. “And as fine a pull as I’ve ever seen! How long are you in port?”
“Two days,” Deudermont replied. “Then off to the sea and the south.”
The harbormaster paused for a moment, as if trying to remember something. Then he asked, as he had asked to every ship that had put in over the last few days, the question Entreri had planted in his mind. “I seek two adventurers,” he called to Deudermont. “Might you have seen them?”
Deudermont looked to Drizzt, somehow guessing, as had the drow, that this inquiry was more than a coincidence.
“Drizzt Do’Urden and Wulfgar, by name,” Pellman explained. “Though they may be using others. One’s small and mysterious—elflike—and the other’s a giant and as strong as any man alive!”
“Trouble?” Deudermont called.
“Not so,” answered Pellman. “A message.”
Wulfgar had moved up to Drizzt and heard the latter part of the conversation. Deudermont looked to Drizzt for instructions. “Your decision.”
Drizzt didn’t figure that Entreri would lay any serious traps for them; he knew that the assassin meant to fight with them, or at least with him, personally. “We will speak with the man,” he answered.
“They are with me,” Deudermont called to Pellman.” ’Twas Wulfgar,” he looked at the barbarian and winked, then echoed Pellman’s own description, “as strong as any man alive, who made the pull!”
Deudermont led them to the rail. “If there is trouble, I shall do what I can to retrieve you,” he said quietly. “And we can wait in port for as long as two tendays if the need arises.”
“Again, our thanks,” Drizzt replied. “Surely Orlpar of Waterdeep set us aright.”
“Leave that dog’s name unspoken,” Deudermont replied. “Rarely have I had such fortunate outcomes to my dealings with him! Farewell, then. You may take sleep on the ship if you desire.”
Drizzt and Wulfgar moved cautiously toward the harbormaster, Wulfgar in the lead. Drizzt searched for any signs of ambush.
“We are the two you seek,” Wulfgar said sternly, towering over the wiry man.
“Greetings,” Pellman said with a disarming smile. He fished in his pocket. “I have met with an associate of yours,” he explained, “a dark man with a halfling lackey.”
Drizzt moved beside Wulfgar, and the two exchanged concerned glances.
“He left this,” Pellman continued, handing the tiny pouch to Wulfgar. “And bade me to tell you that he will await your arrival in Calimport.”
Wulfgar held the pouch tentatively, as if expecting it to explode in his face.
“Our thanks,” Drizzt told Pellman. “We will tell our associate that you performed the task admirably.”
Pellman nodded and bowed, turning away as he did so, to return to his duties. But first, he realized suddenly, he had another mission to complete, a subconscious command that he could not resist. Following Entreri’s orders, the harbormaster moved from the docks and toward the upper level of the city.
Toward the house of Oberon.
Drizzt led Wulfgar off to the side, out of plain view. Seeing the barbarian’s paling look, he took the tiny pouch and gingerly loosened the draw string, holding it as far away as possible. With a shrug to Wulfgar, who had moved a cautious step away, Drizzt brought the pouch down to his belt level and peeked in.
Wulfgar moved closer, curious and concerned when he saw Drizzt’s shoulders droop. The drow looked to him in helpless resignation and inverted the pouch, revealing its contents.
A halfling’s finger.