He paced silently around a chamber that was located deep under the port city of Luskan as Drizzt stood talking quietly with Jarlaxle. They awaited the return of Kimmurial, the talented psionicist who was second only to Jarlaxle as leader of the company, who was consulting with a few of the band's mages. The mercenary kept a wary eye on this new and mostly unknown, to him, lieutenant of Bregan D'aerthe. All of the additions and changes in the members of the organization that had occurred over the few short years he had been traveling the surface made it difficult to keep track of them all. Only his trust in Kimmurial's judgment allowed him some measure of ease around the unfamiliar drow. Drizzt hardly seemed to notice or even care about being the focus of the male's intense scrutiny. How apathetic he had become since the death of his beloved Catti-Brie!

Given the situation, knowing a bit of the restless drow's background and despite orders to the contrary Jarlaxle had to wonder if the young male's pride would allow him to stay his attack. If not he was confident that the lithe male would either fall to the whirling scimitars of his companion or to his own deadly daggers. Perhaps it would take both if Marvic had inherited Dantrag's prowess with weapons. Breaking an order of his or Kimmurial's was, for the most part, a death sentence unless some greater good or profit miraculously resulted. Rarely was it so.

Daring to step between Jarlaxle and Drizzt, Marvic sneered and asked the ranger where he had acquired the rare leather and adamantine bracers he wore about his ankles. Jarlaxle gave a tightly politely smile and took a step back and to the side in order to observe the exchange.

'I took them off a corpse.'

'Judging from the quality of them it was a worthy opponent I would presume.'

Drizzt gave a sad smile. 'You presume far too much. Had he been a worthy opponent he would not be a corpse now would he?'

Marvic nodded as his red eyes flashed, 'Accidents and misfortune happen. Even to the best.'

'Dantrag Baenre was indeed good but he was not the best. In a 'fair' contest he would lasted much longer than he did. Actually he did himself an enormous disservice trusting in the support of his brother Berg'inyon. It actually surprised me that given his reputation he even bothered to have back up.' Drizzt calmly met Marvic's stare, 'You, of course, know both the drow of whom I speak.'

'Yes,' the young male snapped, 'now tell me who possesses Khazid'hea, or who Khazid'hea is in possession of, since it obviously isn't you.'

'Why would I wish to do that?' the slightly shorter drow asked tilting his head to the side in curiosity.

'From the goodness of your heart perhaps?' Marvic mocked, 'That and Khazid'hea should have been mine by inheritance.'

'The sword was mine by conquest. A much more valid claim in Menzoberranzan I'm sure you will agree.' Drizzt sighed. 'Khazid'hea is a dangerous weapon and has no place either on or below the surface.'

Marvic snorted, 'A pointed stick is a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands.'

'Ah! Something to which we all can agree. I see that there was more to the teachings of Dantrag that I would ever have suspected.' He gave a curt nod.

The drow started to quiver as he struggled to control his rage. 'Weapon Master Dantrag sired me you abhorrent lover of the light.' His hands slid to the hilts of his fine drow made blades.

Jarlaxle's hand coming firmly to rest upon his shoulder made Marvic jump in surprise. So intent had he been in the discussion that he had completely dismissed the other drow not two steps beside him. Usually a fatal flaw; particularly, or especially, when the mercenary leader was involved.

'Do remember your orders,' the leader of Bregan D'aerthe purred as he gave the finely linked mail clad shoulder a squeeze.

'Yes, yes,' the tall slender drow hissed, 'don't kill the precious renegade.'

Jarlaxle snickered . 'Actually, don't give the precious renegade any reason to kill you when you piss him off would have been a better understanding of the command but you seem to have caught the general gist of it. I applaud your insight Marvic.'

The attractive male scowled intensely at Jarlaxle but looked back to Drizzt when the purple eyed drow spoke again.

'I will not tell you where Khazid'hea is. Not now. Not ever.' Drizzt shifted his hands meaningfully closer to but not touching the hilts of his scimitars. 'You wish to fight me for the information I suppose?'

Marvic made a sour face, snorted in disgust and walked away to resume his pacing.

'Good boy,' Jarlaxle murmured too softly for the new lieutenant to hear.

He clapped his hands together lightly. 'There may be hope for that one do you not think?'

'Hope. You are as unusual as I except that all mine has fled.'

'We will try to fix that ussta d'anthe abbil. I promise you I will try.'

Drow to English:

my –ussta

dear -d'anthe

friend -abbil (trusted)