behind in Menzoberranzan.
Nimor smiled at the light that shined into Vhok's character-the cambion was a loud bully but ever a quiet coward.
Still, he commanded an army and had his uses and might yet again. And cowards were easy to manipulate, if not to rely upon.
Nimor swooped in front of the column, alit on the tunnel floor, and allowed himself to become visible.
Snarls and shouts of surprise ran through the tanarukk ranks, a low, dangerous rumble. The column surged to a halt. Vhok and Rorgak had their blades in their hands within a heartbeat.
Rorgak, greatsword in hand, lunged toward Nimor. Several of the tanarukks behind Vhok moved forward, blood in their eyes.
Vhok halted all of them with an upraised hand and a barked order.
'Hold,' the cambion commanded, and they did. Even Rorgak.
Dozens of red eyes fixed on Nimor, hungry eyes.
Nimor held up his hands to show that he bore only a smile, though he knew his wings and fangs must have appeared disconcerting. Vhok and his tanarukks had never before seen him in his half-dragon form. If it proved necessary, Nimor could quickly flee into the Shadow Fringe.
'Nimor,' Vhok said and raised his pointed eyebrows. 'I hardly recognized you. You look different than last we met.' He sheathed his rune inscribed blade and offered Nimor a hard look.
'You take a chance showing a lone drow face to my men and me.'
The tanarukks near Vhok growled agreement. Rorgak continued to stare at Nimor, his blade still bare.
Nimor flapped his wings and let shadowstuff leak from his nostrils. 'As you can see, Kaanyr,
I'm no more drow than you are human or they orcs.'
At that, Vhok smiled and tipped his head to acknowledge the point. A few of the tanarukks chuckled.
'What then?' the cambion asked. 'Do you have yet another wondrous scheme to offer me?'
He gestured at his battle scarred, retreating column. 'You see the result of your last.'
Vhok's men laughed at that, but it was forced laughter. No doubt their retreat shamed them.
Nimor kept his smile, though it was difficult.
'Perhaps,' he said. 'But I would speak of it privately. Your tent?'
Nimor knew that Vhok's command tent was a magical structure that formed and collapsed into a fist-sized ball of cloth upon command, so it was always a convenient bit of private space.
Vhok studied Nimor's face for a moment before he said, 'Very well.' To Rorgak, Vhok said,
'Have the legion take a meal. I will not be long.'
Vhok added something else in a low tone, speaking to his lieutenant in Infernal. Though
Nimor could not understand the language, he understood the meaning. Vhok was instructing
Rorgak to stand ready in case Nimor attacked Vhok in the tent.
Nimor merely stared at Rorgak as the big, red-scaled lieutenant nodded to Vhok then headed back into the ranks, barking out orders. The tanarukk column broke ranks for a meal, but many bloodshot gazes stayed on Nimor.
Vhok pulled the magical wad of cloth from his pack, picked as level a spot as he could find on the tunnel floor, and cast it to the ground, uttering a command word in a harsh, forgotten language.
The cloth unfolded itself time and again until finally it sprung up into the pennoned, red-and-
gold command tent that Nimor knew well. Vhok gestured him in, his breastplate shining in the torchlight. He kept one hand on his blade.
Nimor furled his wings and entered. Within, he found the tent fully furnished with a fine wooden table, a luxurious divan, and a plush couch. The decanter of what Nimor assumed to be brandy-one of Vhok's indulgences-sat on the table with two empty glasses beside it.
'Furnished and stocked,' Nimor said, turning a circle. 'An excellent magic item, Kaanyr. You need only dancing girls. Speaking of which, where is your little winged sweetmeat?'
Vhok snorted derisively, but Nimor heard the affectation in it.
'Gone,' Vhok said. 'At least for now.'
'Ah, fickle women,' Nimor said, and decided not to press further. 'May I sit?' he asked.
Vhok indicated the couch. Nimor crossed the tent and collapsed onto it.
'We did not have to lose this fight, Kaanyr,' he said.
'Only one of us actually fought this fight,' Vhok answered. 'The other fled when things got difficult.'
Nimor struggled to retain his smile.
From outside the tent, near the flap, Nimor's keen hearing betrayed the quiet scrape of a boot on stone- Rorgak, no doubt.
Only when he had full control of his tone of voice did Nimor say, 'Lolth's return alone saved
Menzoberranzan. That and an unfortunate choice in allies.'
Vhok looked at him sharply.
'Not you,' Nimor said. 'The duergar.'
Vhok's expression relaxed and he nodded. 'True, that,' he said.
To Nimor's surprise, the cambion poured two small chalices of the liquor from the decanter and offered one to Nimor.
Nimor took it, but he did not drink. Vhok remained standing.
'Our little princeling is dead,' Nimor said, swirling the brandy in his goblet.
Vhok raised an eyebrow. 'You?'
Nimor nodded. When Vhok sipped from his brandy, Nimor did the same. The liquor had traveled well.
'Serves the little fool right,' the cambion said. 'Duergar are useless creatures.'
'We are in agreement on that at least, Kaanyr,' Nimor said. 'The gray dwarves are a race of imbeciles.' After a pause, he added, 'I tracked you down to thank you for warning me of Lolth's return during my battle with the Archmage.'
Vhok smiled around his goblet and said, 'We were allies.'
'Indeed. And as far as I'm concerned, we still are.'
When Vhok did not reply, Nimor filled the silence by raising his glass in a toast and saying,
'To grand undertakings.'
Vhok raised his own glass half-heartedly and took a sip, eyeing Nimor over the rim.
Afterward, he asked, 'Is there something else, drowling? Or did you return only to express your gratitude and drink my brandy?'
Nimor decided to take Vhok's obnoxiousness as a jest and laughed it off.
He leaned forward to refill his chalice. As he poured, he said,
'There will be other battles, Kaanyr. Perhaps not tomorrow or the next day, but someday. As I
said, I still regard you as an ally. We were effective together and would have triumphed but for some unanticipated contingencies.'
' 'Unanticipated contingencies'?' Vhok said with a snort. 'That's what you call Lolth's return?'
Nimor shrugged, sat back, and took another gulp of brandy. 'Call it what you will,' he answered. 'Do you deny that we made an effective team?'
Vhok considered it while he drank.
'I don't deny it,' said the cambion, 'but at this moment, I wish we'd never met and that I'd never seen that cursed drow hive.'
Nimor nodded as though in understanding.
'But feelings change with time and distance,' Vhok said. 'And I am always open to a future opportunity. Provided it involves no duergar.'
He laughed and Nimor joined him.
That was the answer Nimor had wanted to hear. Vhok could be a valuable ally in his quest to regain his status as Anointed Blade.
'I know how to find you,' Nimor said.
Vhok set down his chalice and stared at Nimor, his smile hard.
'A threat?' Vhok asked.
