“Icewind Dale?” the woman asked without hesitation, and Wulfgar's shoulders sagged.
“It is a difficult land, full of hardship,” Wulfgar answered, trying to remain matter-of-fact.
“Full o' strong men,” Delly added. “Full of heroes.”
Wulfgar's expression showed clearly that he was through playing this game. “Full of cutthroats and thieves,” he said sternly. “Full of thieves running from the honest lands, and no place for a girl to grow to a woman.”
“I know of one girl who grew quite strong and true up there,” the indomitable Delly Curtie pressed.
Wulfgar glanced all around, seeming angry and tense, and Delly knew that she had put him into a box here. Given his increasingly surly expression, she had to wonder if that was a good thing, and was about to suggest that they stay in Waterdeep for the foreseeable future just to let him out of the trap.
But then Wulfgar admitted the truth, bluntly. “I will not return to Icewind Dale. That is who I was, not who I am, and I have no desire to ever see the place again. Let the tribes of my people find their way without me.”
“Let yer friends find their way without ye, even when they're trying to find their way to help ye?”
Wulfgar stared at her for a long moment, grinding his teeth at her accusatory words. He turned and pulled off his shirt, as if the matter was settled, but Delly Curtie could not be put in her place so easily.
“And ye speak of honest work,” she said after him, and though he didn't turn back, he did stop walking away. “Honest work like hunting pirates with Captain Deudermont? He'd give ye a fine pay, no doubt, and get ye yer hammer in the meantime.”
Wulfgar turned slowly, ominously. “Aegis-fang is not mine,” he announced, and Delly had to chew on her bottom lip so she didn't scream out at him. “It belonged to a man who is dead, to a warrior who is no more.”
“Ye canno' be meaning that!” Delly exclaimed, moving right up to grab him in a hug.
But Wulfgar pushed her back to arms' length and answered her denial with an uncompromising glare.
“Do ye not even wish to find Drizzt and Catti-brie to offer yer' thanks for their saving me and yer baby girl?” the woman, obviously wounded, asked. “Or is that no big matter to ye?”
Wulfgar's expression softened, and he brought Delly in and hugged her tightly. “It is everything to me,” he whispered into her ear. “Everything. And if I ever cross paths with Drizzt and Catti-brie again, I will offer my thanks. But I'll not go to find them—there is no need. They know how I feel.”
Delly Curtie just let herself enjoy the hug and let the conversation end there. She knew that Wulfgar was kidding himself, though. There was no way Drizzt and Catti-brie could know how he truly felt.
How could they, when Wulfgar didn't even know?
Delly didn't know her place here, to push the warrior back to his roots or to allow him this new identity he was apparently trying on. Would the return to who he once was break him in the process, or would he forever be haunted by that intimidating and heroic past if he settled into a more mundane life as a blacksmith?
Delly Curtie had no answers.
* * * * * * * * * *
A foul mood followed Wulfgar throughout the next few days. He took his comfort with Delly and Colson, using them as armor against the emotional turmoil that now roiled within him, but he could plainly see that even Delly was growing frustrated with him. More than once, the woman suggested that perhaps he should convince Deudermont to take him with Sea Sprite when they put out for the south, an imminent event.
Wulfgar understood those suggestions for what they were: frustration on the part of poor Delly, who had to listen to his constant grumbling, who had to sit by and watch him get torn apart by emotions he could not control.
He went out of the house often those few days and even managed to find some work with one of the many blacksmiths operating in Waterdeep.
He was at that job on the day Sea Sprite sailed.
He was at that job the day after that when a very unexpected visitor walked in to see him.
“Putting those enormous muscles of yours to work, I see,” said Robillard the wizard.
Wulfgar looked at the man incredulously, his expression shifting from surprise to suspicion. He gripped the large hammer he had been using tightly as he stood and considered the visitor, ready to throw the tool right through this one's face if he began any sort of spellcasting. For Wulfgar knew that Sea Sprite was long out of dock, and he knew, too, that Robillard was well enough known among the rabble of the pirate culture for other wizards to use magic to impersonate him. Given the previous attack on Deudermont's house, the barbarian wasn't about to take any chances.
“It is me, Wulfgar,” Robillard said with a chuckle, obviously recognizing every doubt on the barbarian's face. “I will rejoin the captain and crew in a couple of days—a minor spell, really, to teleport me to a place I have set up on the ship for just such occasions.”
“You have never done that before, to my knowledge,” Wulfgar remarked, his suspicions holding strong, his grip as tight as ever on the hammer.
“Never before have I had to play nursemaid to a confused barbarian,” Robillard countered.
“Here now,” came a gruff voice. A grizzled man walked in, all girth and hair and beard, his skin as dark as his hair from all the soot. “What're ye looking to buy or get fixed?”
“I am looking to speak with Wulfgar, and nothing more,” Robillard said curtly.
The blacksmith spat on the floor, then wiped a dirty cloth across his mouth. “I ain't paying him to talk,” he said. “I'm paying him to work!”
“We shall see,” the wizard replied. He turned back to Wulfgar but the blacksmith stormed over, poking a finger the wizard's way and reiterating his point.
Robillard turned his bored expression toward Wulfgar, and the barbarian understood that if he did not calm his often-angry boss, he might soon be self-employed. He patted the blacksmith's shoulders gently, and with strength that mocked even that of the lifelong smith, Wulfgar guided the man away.
When Wulfgar returned to Robillard, his face was a mask of anger. “What do you want, wizard?” he asked gruffly. “Have you come here to taunt me? To inform me of how much better off Sea Sprite is with me here on land?”
“Hmm,” said Robillard, scratching at his chin. “There is truth in that, I suppose.”
Wulfgar's crystal-blue eyes narrowed threateningly.
“But no, my large, foolish. . whatever you are,” Robillard remarked, and if he was the least bit nervous about Wulfgar's dangerous posture, he didn't show it one bit. “I came here, I suppose, because I am possessed of a tender heart.”
“Well hidden.”
“Purposely so,” the wizard replied without hesitation. “So tell me, are you planning to spend the entirety of the winter at Deudermont's house, working. . here?” He finished the question with a derisive snort.
“Would you be pleased if I left the captain's house?” Wulfgar asked in reply. “Do you have plans for the house? Because if you do, then I will gladly leave, and at once.”
“Calm down, angry giant,” Robillard said in purely condescending tones. “I have no plans for the house, for as I already told you I will be rejoining Sea Sprite very soon, and I have no family to speak of left on shore. You should pay better attention.”
“Then you simply want me out,” Wulfgar concluded. “Out of the house and out of Deudermont's life.”
“That is a completely different point,” Robillard dryly responded. “Have I said that I want you out, or have I asked if you plan to stay?”
Tired of the word games, and tired of Robillard all together, Wulfgar gave a little growl and went back to his work, banging away on the metal with his heavy hammer. “The captain told me that I could stay,” he said. “And so I plan to stay until I have earned enough coin to purchase living quarters of my own. I would leave now—I plan to hold no debts to any man—except that I have Delly and Colson to look after.”