It didn't bother Drizzt, for he had played through this scenario hundred times before.
“They know ye, don't ye worry,” Catti-brie whispered to him.
“Some,” he agreed.
“Enough,” the woman said flatly. “Ye canno' be expecting all the world to know yer name.”
Drizzt gave a chuckle at that and shook his head in agreement. “And I know well enough that no matter what I may accomplish in my life, I will suffer their stares.” He gave a sincere smile and a shrug. “Suffer is not the right word,” he assured her. “Not any more.”
Catti-brie started to respond but stopped short, her defiant words defeated by Drizzt's disarming smile. She had fought this battle for acceptance beside her friend for all these years, in Icewind Dale, in Mithral Hall and Silverymoon, and even here in Waterdeep, and in every city and town along the Sword Coast during the years they sailed with Deudermont. In many ways, Catti-brie understood at that telling moment, she was more bothered by the stares than was Drizzt. She forced herself to take his lead this time, to let the looks slide off her shoulders, for surely Drizzt was doing just that. She could tell from the sincerity of his smile.
Drizzt stopped and spun about to face the guards, and the nearest couple jumped back in surprise.
“Is Sea Sprite in?” the drow asked.
“S-Sea Sprite?” one stammered in reply. “In where? What?”
An older soldier stepped by the flustered pair. “Captain Deudermont is not yet in,” he explained. “Though he's expected for a last stop at least before the winter sets in.”
Drizzt touched his hand to his forehead in a salute of thanks, then spun back and walked off with Catti-brie.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Delly Curtie was in fine spirits this evening. She had this feeling that Wulfgar would soon return with Aegis-fang and that she and her husband could finally get on with their lives.
Delly wasn't quite sure what that meant. Would they return to Luskan and life at the Cutlass with Arumn Gardpeck? She didn't think so. No, Delly understood that this hunt for Aegis-fang was about more than the retrieval of a warhammer—had it been just that, Delly would have discouraged Wulfgar from ever going out in search of the weapon.
This hunt was about Wulfgar finding himself, his past and his heart, and when that happened, Delly believed, he would also find his way back home—his true home, in Icewind Dale.
“And we will go there with him,” she said to Colson, as she held the baby girl out at arms length.
The thought of Icewind Dale appealed to Delly. She knew the hardships of the region, knew all about the tremendous snows and powerful winds, of the goblins and the yetis and other perils. But to Delly, who had grown up on the dirty streets of Luskan, there seemed something clean about Icewind Dale, something honest and pure, and in any case, she would be beside the man she loved, the man she loved more every day. She knew that when Wulfgar found himself, their relationship would only grow stronger.
She began to sing, then, dancing gracefully around the room, swinging Colson about as she turned and skittered, this way and that.
“Daddy will be home soon,” she promised their daughter, and, as if understanding, Colson laughed.
And Delly danced.
And all the world seemed beautiful and full of possibilities.
* * * * * * * * *
Captain Deudermont's house was indeed palatial, even by Waterdhavian standards. It was two stories tall, with more than a dozen rooms. A great sweeping stairway dominated the foyer, which also sported a domed alcove that held two grand wooden double doors, each decorated with the carving of one half of a three-masted schooner. When the doors were closed, the image of Sea Sprite was clear to see. A second staircase in back led to the drawing room that overlooked the rocky cove and the sea.
This was Waterdeep, the City of Splendors, a city of laws. But despite the many patrols of the fabled Waterdhavian Watch and the general civility of the populace, most of the larger houses, Deudermont's included, also employed personal guards.
Deudermont had hired two, former soldiers, former sailors, both of whom had actually served on Sea Sprite many years before. They were friends as much as hired hands, house guests as much as sentries. Though they took their job seriously, they couldn't help but be lax about their work. Every day was inevitably uneventful. Thus, the pair helped out with chores, working with Delly at repairing the shingles blown away by a sea wind, or with the nearly constant painting of the clapboards. They cooked and they cleaned. Sometimes they carried their weapons, and sometimes they did not, for they understood, and so did Deudermont, that they were there more as a preventative measure than anything else. The thieves of Waterdeep avoided homes known to house guards.
Thus the pair were perfectly unprepared for what befell the House of Deudermont that dark night.
Gayselle was the first to Deudermont's front door, accompanied by one of the brutes who, using the polymorph potion, was doing a pretty fair imitation of the physical traits of Captain Deudermont. So good, in fact, that Gayselle found herself wondering if she had misnamed the brute Dumb-bunny. With a look around to see that the streets were quiet, Gayselle nodded to Lumpy, who was standing at the end of the walk, between the two hedgerows. Immediately, the brute began rubbing its feet on the stones, gaining traction and grinning wickedly.
One of the double doors opened to the knock, just three or four inches, for it was, as expected, secured with a chain. A cleanshaven, large man with short black hair and a brow so furrowed it seemed as if it could shield his eyes from a noonday sun, answered.
“Can I help you …?”
His voice trailed off, though, as he scanned the man standing behind the woman, a man who surely resembled Captain Deudermont.
“I have brought the brother of Captain Deudermont,” Gayselle answered. “Come to speak with his long-lost sibling.”
The guard's eyes widened for just a moment, then he resumed his steely, professional demeanor. “Well met,” he offered, “but I fear that your brother is not in Waterdeep at this time. Tell me where you will be staying and I will inform him as soon as he returns.”
“Our funds are low,” Gayselle answered quickly. “We have been on the road for a long time. We were hoping to find shelter here.”
The guard thought it over for just a moment but then shook his head. His orders concerning such matters were uncompromising, despite this surprising twist, and especially so with a woman and her child as guests in the house. He started to explain, to tell them he was sorry, but that they could find shelter at one of several inns for a reasonable price.
Gayselle was hardly listening. She casually looked back down the walk, to the eager half-ogre. The pirate gave a slight nod, setting Lumpy into a charge.
“Perhaps you will then open your door for the third of my group,” the woman said sweetly.
Again the guard shook his head. “I doubt—” he started to say, but then his words and his breath were stolen away as the half-ogre hit the doors in a dead run, splintering wood and tearing free the chain anchors. The guard was thrown back and to the floor, and the half-ogre stumbled in to land atop him.
In went Gayselle and the Deudermont impersonator, drawing weapons. The half-ogre willed away the illusionary image, dropping the human facade.
The guard on the floor started to call out, as he tried to scramble away from the half-ogre, but Gayselle was there, dagger in hand. With a swift and sure movement, she slashed open his throat.
The second guard came through the door at the side of the foyer. Then, his expression one of the purest horror, he sprinted for the stands.
Gayselle's dagger caught him in the back of the leg, hamstringing him. He continued on stubbornly, limping up the stairs and calling out. Dumb-bunny caught up to him and with fearful strength yanked him off the stairs and sent him flying back down to the bottom. The other half-ogre waited there.