expression. 'Ye don't have to be throwing them halfway to Waterdeep.' He motioned back to the crowd, indicating that he was done with the barbarian.
Wulfgar walked away, back to his duties sifting through the boisterous bunch.
Within an hour another man, bleeding from his nose and mouth, took the aerial route, this time a two- handed toss that put him almost to the other side of the street.
Wulfgar held up his shirt, revealing the jagged line of deep scars. 'Had me up in its mouth,' he explained grimly, slurring the words. It had taken more than a little of the potent spirits to bring him to a level of comfort where he could discuss this battle, the fight with the yochlol, the fight that had brought him to Lolth, and she to Errtu for his years of torment. 'A mouse in the cat's mouth.' He gave a slight chuckle. 'But this mouse had a kick.'
His gaze drifted to Aegis-fang, lying on the bar a couple of feet away.
'Prettiest hammer I've ever seen,' remarked Josi Puddles. He reached for it tentatively, staring at Wulfgar as his hand
inched in, for he, like all the others, had no desire to anger the frightfully dangerous man.
But Wulfgar, usually very protective of Aegis-fang, his sole link to his past life, wasn't even watching. His recounting of the yochlol fight had sent his thoughts and his heart careening back across the years, had locked him into a replay of the events that had put him in living hell.
'And how it hurt,' he said softly, voice quavering, one hand subconsciously running the length of the scar.
Arumn Gardpeck stood before him staring, but though Wulfgar's eyes aimed at those of the barkeep, their focus was far, far away. Arumn slid another drink before the man, but Wulfgar didn't notice. With a deep and profound sigh the barbarian dropped his head into his huge arms, seeking the comfort of blackness.
He felt a touch on his bare arm, gentle and soft, and turned his head so that he could regard Delly. She nodded to Arumn, then gently pulled Wulfgar, coaxing him to rise and leading him away.
Wulfgar awoke later that night, long and slanted rays of moonlight filtering into the room through the western window. It took him a few moments to orient himself and to realize that this was not his room, for his room had no windows.
He glanced around and then to the blankets beside him, to the lithe form of Delly amidst those blankets, her skin seeming soft and delicate in the flattering light.
Then he remembered. Delly had taken him from the bar to bed-not to his own, but to hers-and he remembered all they had done.
Fearful, recalling his less-than-tender parting with Catti-brie, Wulfgar gently reached over and put his hand about the woman's neck, sighing in profound relief to find that she still had a pulse. Then he turned her over and scanned her bare body, not in any lustful way, but merely to see if she showed any bruises, any signs that he had brutalized her.
Her sleep was quiet and sound.
Wulfgar turned to the side of the bed, rolling his legs off the edge. He started to stand, but his throbbing head nearly knocked him backward. Reeling, he fought to control his balance and then ambled over to the window, staring out at the setting moon.
Catti-brie was likely watching that same moon, he thought, and somehow knew it to be true. After a while he turned to regard Delly again, all soft and snuggled amidst mounds of blankets. He had been able to make love to her without the anger, without the memories of the succubi balling his fists in rage. For a moment he felt as if he might be free, felt as if he should burst out of the house, out of Luskan altogether, running down the road in search of his old friends. He looked back at the moon and thought of Catti-brie and how wonderful it would be to fall into her arms.
But then he realized the truth of it all.
The drink had allowed him to build a wall against those memories, and behind that protective barrier he had been able to live in the present and not the past.
'Come on back to bed,' came Belly's voice behind him, a gentle coax with a subtle promise of sensual pleasure. 'And don't you be worrying over your hammer,' she added, turning so that Wulfgar could follow her gaze to the opposite wall, against which Aegis-fang rested.
Wulfgar spent a long moment regarding the woman, caretaker of his emotions and his possessions. She was sitting up, the covers bundled about her waist, and making no move to cover her nakedness. Indeed she seemed to flaunt it a bit to entice the man back into her bed,
A large part of Wulfgar did want to go to her. But he resisted, realizing the danger, realizing that the drink had worn off. In a fit of passion, a fit of remembered rage, how easy it would be for him to squeeze her bird-like neck.
'Later,' he promised, moving to gather his clothes. 'Before we go to work this night.'
'But you don't have to leave.'
'I do,' he said briskly, and he saw the flash of pain across her face. He moved to her immediately, very close. 'I do,' he repeated in a softer tone. 'But I will come back to you. Later.'
He kissed her gently on the forehead and started for the door.
'You are thinking that I'll want you back,' came a harsh call behind him, and he turned to see Delly staring at him, her gaze ice cold, her arms folded defensively across her chest.
At first surprised, Wulfgar only then realized that he wasn't the only one in this room carrying around personal demons.
'Go,' Delly said to him. 'Maybe I'll take you back, and maybe I'll find another. All the same to me.'
Wulfgar sighed and shook his head, then pushed out into the hall, more than happy to be out of that room.
The sun peeked over the eastern rim before the barbarian, an empty bottle at his side, found his way back into the void of sleep. He didn't see the sunrise, though, for his room had no windows.
He preferred it that way.
Chapter 15 THE CALL OF CRENSHINIBON
The prow cut swiftly through the azure blanket of the Sword Coast, shooting great fins of water and launching spray high into the air. At the forward rail, Catti-brie felt the stinging, salty droplets, so cold in contrast to the heat of the brilliant sun on her fair face. The ship, Quester, sailed south, and so south the woman looked. Away from Icewind Dale, away from Luskan, away from Waterdeep, from which they had sailed three days previous.
Away from Wulfgar.
Not for the first time, and she knew not for the last, the woman reconsidered their decision to let the beleaguered barbarian go off on his own. In his present state of mind, a state of absolute tumult and confusion, how could Wulfgar not need them?
And yet she had no way to get to him now, sailing south along the Sword Coast. Catti-brie blinked away moisture that was not sea spray and set her gaze firmly on the wide waters before them, taking some heart at the sheer speed of the vessel. They had a mission to complete, a vital mission, for during their days crossing by land they had come to learn beyond doubt that Crenshinibon remained a potent foe, sentient and intelligent. It was able to call in creatures to serve as its minions, monsters of dark heart eager to grasp at the promises of the relic. Thus the friends had gone to Waterdeep and had taken passage on the sturdiest available ship in the harbor, believing that enemies would be fewer at sea and far easier to discern. Both Drizzt and Catti-brie greatly lamented that Captain Deudermont and his wondrous Sea Sprite were not in.
Less than two hours out from port one of the crewmen had come after Drizzt, thinking to steal the crystal. Battered by the flat sides of flashing twin scimitars, the man, bound and gagged, had been handed off to another ship passing by, heading to the north to Waterdeep, with instructions to turn him over to the dock authorities in that lawful city for proper punishment.
Since then, though, the voyage had been uneventful, just swift sailing and empty waters, flat horizons
