boy.'
'And one day he will find his better. As did Tree Block Breaker,' Arumn said quietly. 'He'll not die comfortably in bed, I fear.'
'Nor will he outlive either of us,' Josi added, watching as Delly, supporting the barbarian, led him out of the room.
Just then another pair of rowdy sailors came rushing through the broken wall, running straight for the staggering Wulfgar's back. Just before they got to him, the huge barbarian found a surge of energy. He pushed Delly safely away, then spun, fist flying between the reaching arms of one man to slam him in the face. He dropped as though his legs had turned to liquid beneath him.
The other sailor barreled into Wulfgar, but the big man didn't move an inch, just grunted and accepted the man's left and right combination.
But then Wulfgar had him, grabbing tight under his arms and squeezing hard, lifting the man right from the floor. When the sailor tried to punch and kick at him, the barbarian shook him so violently that the man bit the tip right off his
tongue.
Then he was flying, Wulfgar taking two running steps and launching him for the hole in the wall.
Wulfgar's aim wasn't true, though, and the man crashed against the wall a foot or so to the left.
'I'll push him out for ye,' Josi Puddles called from the bar.
Wulfgar nodded, accepted Delly's arm again, and ambled away.
'But he will take his share down with him, now won't he?' Arumn Gardpeck remarked with a chuckle.
Chapter 20 DANGLING A LOCKET
My dear Domo,' Sharlotta Vespers purred, moving over seductively to put her long fingers on the wererat leader's shoulders. 'Can you not see the mutual gain to our alliance?'
'I see Basadonis moving into my sewers,' Domo Quillilo replied with a snarl. He was in human form now, but still carried characteristics-such as the way he twitched his nose-that seemed more fitting to a rat. 'Where is the old wretch?'
Artemis Entreri started to respond, but Sharlotta shot him a plaintive look, begging him to follow her lead. The assassin sat back in his chair, more than content to let Sharlotta handle the likes of Domo.
'The old wretch,' the woman began, imitating Domo's less-than-complimentary tone, 'is even now securing a partnership with an even greater ally, one whom Domo would not wish to cross.'
The wererat's eyes narrowed dangerously; he was not accustomed to being threatened. 'Who?' he asked. 'Those smelly kobolds we found running through our sewers?'
'Kobolds?' Sharlotta echoed with a laugh. 'Hardly them. No, they are just fodder, the leading edge of our new ally's forces.'
The wererat leader pulled away from the woman, rose out of his chair, and strode across the room. He knew that a fight had occurred in the sewers and sub-basement of the Basadoni House. He knew that it concerned many kobolds and the Basadoni soldiers and also, so his spies had told him, some other creatures. These were unseen but obviously powerful, with cunning magics and tricks. He also knew, simply from the fact that Sharlotta still lived, that the Basadonis, some of them at least, had survived. Domo suspected that a coup had occurred with these two, Sharlotta and Entreri, masterminding it. They claimed that old man Basadoni was still alive, though Domo wasn't sure he believed that, but had admitted that Kadran Gordeon, a friend of Domo's, had been killed. Unfortunately, so said Sharlotta, but Domo understood that luck, good or bad, had nothing to do with it.
'Why does he speak for the old man?' the wererat asked Sharlotta, nodding toward Entreri, and with more than a bit of distaste in his tone. Domo held no love for Entreri. Few wererats did since Entreri had murdered one of the more legendary of their clan in Calimport, a conniving and wicked
fellow named Rassiter.
'Because I choose to,' Entreri cut in sharply before Sharlotta could intervene. The woman cast a sour look the assassin's way, then mellowed her visage as she turned back to Domo. 'Artemis Entreri is well skilled in the ways of Calimport,' she explained. 'A proper emissary.'
'I am to trust him?' Domo asked incredulously.
'You are to trust that the deal we offer you and yours is the best one you shall find in all the city,' Sharlotta replied.
'You are to trust that if you do not take the deal,' Entreri added, 'you are thus declaring war against us. Not a pleasant prospect, I assure you.'
Domo's rodent's eyes narrowed again as he considered the assassin, but he was respectful enough, and wise enough, not to push Artemis Entreri any farther.
'We will talk again, Sharlotta,' he said. 'You, me, and old man Basadoni.' With that, the wererat took his leave with two Basadoni guards flanking him as soon as he exited the room and escorting him back to the subbasement where he could then find his way back into his sewer lair.
He was hardly gone before a secret door opened on the wall behind Sharlotta and Entreri, and Jarlaxle strode into the room.
'Leave us,' the drow mercenary instructed Sharlotta, his tone showing that he wasn't overly pleased with the results.
Sharlotta gave another sour look Entreri's way and started out of the room.
'You performed quite admirably,' Jarlaxle said to her, and she nodded.
'But I failed,' Entreri said as soon as the door closed behind the woman. 'A pity.'
'These meetings mean everything to us,' Jarlaxle said to him. 'If we can secure our power and assure the other guilds that they are in no danger, I will have completed my first order of business.'
'And then trade can begin between Calimport and Menzoberranzan,' Entreri said dramatically, sarcastically, sweeping his arms out wide. 'All to the gain of Menzoberranzan.'
'All to the profit of Bregan D'aerthe,' Jarlaxle corrected.
'And for that, I am to care?' Entreri bluntly asked.
Jarlaxle paused for a long moment to consider the man's posture and tone. 'There are those among my group who fear that you do not have the will to carry this through,' he said, and though the mercenary leader had allowed no hint of a threatening tone into his voice, Entreri understood the practices of the dark elves well enough to recognize the dire implications.
'Have you no heart for this?' the mercenary leader asked. 'Why, you are on the verge of becoming the most influential pasha ever to rule the streets of Calimport. Kings will bow before you and pay you homage and treasures.'
'And I will yawn in their ugly faces,' Entreri replied.
'Yes, it all bores you,' Jarlaxle remarked. 'Even the fighting. You have lost your goals and desires, thrown them
away. Why? Is it fear? Or is it simply that you believe there is nothing left to attain?'
Entreri shifted uncomfortably. Of course, he had known for a long time exactly the thing about which Jarlaxle was now speaking, but to hear another verbalize the emptiness within him struck him profoundly.
'Are you a coward?' Jarlaxle asked.
Entreri laughed at the absurdity of the remark, even considered leaping from his chair in a full attack upon the drow. He understood Jarlaxle's techniques and knew that he would likely be dead before he ever reached the taunting mercenary, but still he seriously considered the move. Then Jarlaxle hit him with a preemptive strike that put him back on his heels.
'Or is it that you have witnessed Menzoberranzan?' he asked.
That was indeed a huge part of it, Entreri knew, and his expression showed Jarlaxle clearly that he had struck a nerve.
'Humbled?' the drow asked. 'Did you find the sights of Menzoberranzan humbling?'
'Daunting,' Entreri corrected, his voice full of force and venom. 'To see such stupidity on so grand a
