author of my escape.”
The silver-haired lord rose from the table and stepped forward to grasp Jack’s hand firmly. “My Lord Wildhame, I am forever in your debt,” he said. “Seila is the delight of my heart, and the hope of my house. By bringing her away from those accursed drow, you have given me cause to live once again.”
Jack returned his handclasp. “It was my great honor to have been of some small service to your lovely daughter, my Lord Norwood,” he said. “Allow me to thank you for the hospitality of your home over the last few days. The circumstances of my arrival in this new day left me with nothing more than the shirt on my back, and trust me, that wasn’t worth keeping.”
“Think nothing of it,” Norwood replied. “The least we could do, really. Seila told me of your extraordinary story this morning. I cannot imagine what you must make of all this, my Lord Wildhame.”
“Please, my lord-Wildhame or just Jack. My father is, or I suppose I must now say was, Lord Wildhame.”
“Of course, Jack, of course. And you should call me Marden. I believe you’ve earned that familiarity.” The elder Norwood pumped Jack’s hand again, and turned to Seila. “My dear, if you’ll permit me, I would like to steal your Jack away for a short while. I have some things I’d like to speak with him about.”
Seila gave her father a heart-melting pout, but her eyes laughed the whole while. “I suppose,” she said. “Do be kind to him, Da. Good luck to you, Jack.”
Lord Norwood steered Jack over to a large study that adjoined the dining room. It was finished in rich southern hardwoods and furnished in fine leather. Jack saw Seila glance once after them before the old lord drew the door shut behind him. He decided that utter confidence was called for; there was no Wildhame estate, of course, and in fact there never had been any such place, but as far as Marden Norwood knew, he was exactly what he said he was. After all, he reminded himself, nobility is simply a rather exclusive club that a few very ordinary individuals happen to belong to, thanks to nothing more than the accident of birth.
He faced Marden Norwood squarely, and asked, “How may I help you, Lord Marden?”
“Before we speak of anything else, there is something I must do,” the nobleman replied. “I have instructed Dralden Horthlaer of Horthlaer House on Manycoins Way to make available to you a credit line of five thousand gold crowns. Draw on it for anything you wish; the money is yours. I cannot set a value on what you have done for my family, but at least I can make sure that you will not be in want so long as it lies in my power to express my gratitude in some small way.”
Jack’s eyes widened, and he choked back on a whoop of glee. Instead he gathered his dignity about him like any properly raised lordling, and bowed. “My lord, you are too generous,” he made himself say. “I did not bring Seila out of Tower Chumavhraele in expectation of any reward.”
“I do not mean to imply that you did, Jack. But it would please me if you would consent to accept something as a token of my esteem. And of course you will be the guest of honor at a grand party we are throwing next tenday in celebration of Seila’s rescue.”
“If it would please you-” it certainly pleased Jack quite well, although he tried to strike the exact right note of accepting a gift in the spirit in which it was intended rather than exulting in his newfound fortune-“then, of course, I shall be happy to accept.” He made a small gesture of self-deprecation, and added, “In all honesty, I may very well be destitute. From what I have heard there is some doubt about whether my family’s lands even survive today.”
“Ah, yes, Seila mentioned that you hailed from the Vilhon Reach. A landsgravate is more or less the equivalent of a barony, is it not?”
“A small one,” Jack answered. “I hope that I shall see Wildhame again someday, but it seems like that is lost to me along with all the years I’ve missed.”
“When you are ready to go in search of Wildhame, Jack, let me know. I will assist you.” Norwood reached out to set a hand on Jack’s shoulder, and gave him a small smile. “Now, there is something else I wanted to speak to you about. Seila mentioned to me that you’d actually spoken to the drow queen below Sarbreen. I want to know everything you can tell me about her.”
“Ah, I see. You intend to exact some retribution against the drow for the suffering Seila endured. I heartily approve.”
“Well, yes, I won’t deny that thought had crossed my mind, but that is a personal matter. No, what I am hoping you can provide me now is information that might help me in a more official capacity.” Norwood paced over to the window, gazing out over the gardens outside. “I am a man of high rank here in Raven’s Bluff-and in the whole realm of Vesperin, to be honest-and I bear certain responsibilities to look after the homeland that has treated my family so well. As far as I can tell, the drow have been under our city for fifty years or more, and they’ve never been more than a nuisance in all that time. Oh, once in a great while a merchant might go missing on the road to Tantras, or an isolated farmstead might be raided. But it was really no worse than the sort of thing common outlaws might do. A tragedy for those affected, but nothing deserving of any determined response on our part.
“But in the last year or so, that has changed. The drow raiders are growing bolder each day. Hundreds of people have been killed or carried off into slavery in that terrible gloomy underworld of theirs. I was quite concerned already when Seila’s caravan was attacked and she was taken away. Her abduction was the final outrage that brought the issue into perfect clarity for me: We are at war with the drow, and no one in this city but me and a few others recognize that unpleasant fact.” The lord looked over his shoulder. “So, Jack-who is my enemy? What manner of woman is she? And how can I strike back at her?”
Jack assumed a gravely thoughtful expression, reaching up to tug at his goatee with his hand. Here at least was an easy way to impress Seila’s father with his insight and resolve. “Your foe is the marquise, not queen, Dresimil Chumavh,” he said. “Her family seat is Tower Chumavhraele, a subterranean castle that lies about half a mile below the city’s northern wall. I could not say for certain when she built the place, but it wasn’t there a hundred years ago when I ventured into that same part of the Underdark.”
“Did you speak with her?”
“Yes, on two occasions,” Jack answered. “She is quite beautiful, highly intelligent, and even a little charming in her own way. When she isn’t wondering aloud about whether to have one fed to a giant solifugid, that is.”
“A what?”
“Hopefully, the question is now moot. To continue, I also met Dresimil’s brothers, Jaeren and Jezzryd. They are twins, and both appear to be very competent sorcerers.” He paused, recollecting his conversations with the drow. “They are, of course, exquisitely wicked, just as the stories say. Dresimil enjoyed toying with me. I felt very much like a mouse in the claws of a cat that had a mind to play with its food. But I must also say that I was struck by their keen curiosity and appreciation for ironic circumstances. Dresimil and her brothers are every bit as cruel and decadent as I might have expected, but it’s an elegant cruelty and a sophisticated decadence. It would be a mistake to think of them as savages. Well, the Chumavhs, anyway. The lower-ranking drow were not quite so refined.”
“Do you have any idea why they have suddenly become so hostile to us?” Norwood asked.
“They seemed to have a desperate need for laborers,” Jack replied. “The drow are engaged in some grand projects below our feet, Lord Marden. They drained the great subterranean lake beneath Sarbreen to expose the ruins of an ancient dark elf city and its forgotten mythal stone, and they’re engaged in repairing its enchantments.”
“Seila said you had been imprisoned in an old drow mythal,” Norwood remarked. “It seems hard to believe that such a thing has been under our feet all this time.”
“Oh, yes,” Jack answered. “Remind me, and I’ll tell you quite a story about my first encounter with the wild mythal sometime. Anyway, the drow were employing hundreds of surface-slaves along with goblins, orcs, bugbears, and all sorts of other creatures to do their work for them. And the dark elves paid in good gold for slavers-such as that unpleasant fellow, Fetterfist-to bring new wares down to the Underdark to keep up their labor force.”
“Fetterfist has a date with the gallows if I ever get my hands on him,” Norwood said, a dark look on his face. “I suspected his involvement from the very first when Seila’s caravan was attacked; no other slaver would have been so bold.”
“I am surprised that such a notorious slaver can operate with impunity in and around the city. Is the city watch incompetent?”
“Fetterfist hides his identity behind a mask; no one knows who he is. And I would not be surprised if he has friends in the city’s administration who warn him when the watch is closing in.” The lord considered Jack’s words for a long time, his brow furrowed in thought. Finally he spoke again, changing the subject. “How is it that, out of
