The next morning found Drizzt following Artemis Entreri closely as the pair walked furtively down the street, hurrying to complete their unsavory business. They quickly reached the brothel and Entreri knocked firmly, his jaw set. As they waited, he glanced sidelong at his fidgeting companion and offered him a reassuring smile. "It'll be all right," he whispered.
Drizzt could only nod.
Then the door burst open, and Entreri found himself face-to-face with the master's beet-red visage. Drizzt uttered a terrified cry and fell back a step, clutching for the assassin's hand.
"Where have you been?" came the angry hiss. "You never went to your second job? What were you thinking? That was a nobleman! If you even—"
"Excuse me," Entreri interrupted calmly, holding up a hand to stop the tirade. He faltered a moment when that furious gaze was turned upon him, but gathered his courage and spoke again. "I wish to speak to you alone."
The man ignored him and returned to Drizzt, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him inside. "You're more trouble than you're worth, drow," he muttered. "You're going to make amends. Tonight. What in the Nine Hells were you thi—"
"Excuse me!" Entreri spoke louder this time. He stepped into the house as well and gave the master a look that brooked no argument. "I only need a few minutes. Please."
The man rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine." Looking to Drizzt, he hissed, "You stay there, you little son of a bitch," then led the assassin into the next room.
"I want to buy his freedom," Entreri said as soon as the door was shut. "Whatever your price, I am willing to pay it."
The other man looked him over. "Weren't you here yesterday?"
"Yes."
He shook his head. "I told you that he's my best. He's brought in so much money since he came here. I can't let him go, no matter what trouble he's causing me."
"I don't care what the price is," Entreri said, trying to keep up his unyielding facade. "I have enough, I promise."
"Why do you want him so badly?"
The assassin paused, searching for the right words. "I hated him," he said finally, his voice quiet. "I hated him, and my only desire was to kill him. But when he came into my room and I had him...it hurt, seeing how far he had fallen. He doesn't deserve this." He knew he must sound insane, speaking out loud like this to a man who couldn't begin to fathom their previous relationship. Entreri was speaking to himself, and as he did, a thousand reasons for freeing Drizzt were running through his mind. "He's not meant to be a whore." He looked up. "I promise you, whatever you want for him, I can pay."
He scanned the man's face and was unable to read it, his eyes like black ice, devoid of any emotion. He waited for what felt like hours, but when the master finally replied, it wasn't the answer he was hoping for.
"I can't." And he turned his back on the man, heading for the other room.
A soft, muffled cry caught their ears, and when Entreri opened the door, Drizzt fell unexpectedly into his arms. The assassin kept him close for a moment, whispering a single command into his ear. "Run. Now." He shoved him away, towards the front door. The elf stumbled but stayed upright, obeying the human. He almost made it, but somehow the master had anticipated this and was there before Drizzt.
"Like I said," he told Entreri as he slapped the drow across the face and shoved him away, "I can't sell him to you." Turning to Drizzt, he said, "Go upstairs; I'll be up soon. And you..." He turned to the other man. "Get out."
Drizzt sat on his bed, knowing that whatever was going on downstairs wasn't good. But he didn't worry too much about it, because he knew that his own punishment was coming soon.
He heard the heavy footsteps as the man thundered up the stairs, and he looked around frantically for a place to hide. He knew what was coming, and there would be no way to escape it.
The door crashed open and slammed against the adjacent wall, nearly taken off its hinges. Drizzt tried to run, but the master was far too quick and the room too small. He felt a crushing pain at the back of his head, followed by a blow to the face that resulted in a disconcerting crunch. Blood flowed down his face, hot and sticky. Over the course of the next few minutes he received a beating far worse than anything he had been given in battle.
When the man was done, Drizzt slumped against the wall, panting as he tried to peer through a swollen eye. His clothes were torn and bloodstained, and his right arm was completely useless. Every move burned—he had never been so aware of his body. He tried to lift himself into bed, but fell back to the floor. He simply passed out where he lay, the promise Artemis had made to him echoing through his mind.
He was woken abruptly when a pair of thick hands grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly. He groaned and tried to fight, but his battered body couldn't cooperate.
"No clients tonight, elf." The master's voice cut through his skull like a sword. "Let's get you cleaned up...get you comfortable..." Drizzt didn't like the tone in his voice—too cloying, too sweet. Nothing could mask his lascivious implications.
He couldn't fight as he was carried to the washroom, stripped of his clothes, and deposited unceremoniously into a tub of hot water. He began to tremble as his wounds were probed by deceptively gentle fingers. He kept his good eye closed, knowing that if he opened it he would see that horrible gleam in the master's eyes, and all his fears would be confirmed.
Hands worked through his hair, cleaning out the blood, then caressed his face. A kiss was placed to the side of his mouth as a rag was rubbed across his stomach; he drew his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them to protect himself. Instead of that, though, the rag was smoothed across his lower back. He squirmed, trying to get away.
He was lifted from the water and wrapped in a warm, fluffy towel, and as his deeper wounds were bandaged, he cursed himself. Only this man could make him act like this, like a coward unable to defend himself. Only this man could bring about such a paralyzing fear in him.
He was lifted again and knew that the master was taking him to a place that rivaled the Nine Hells—the bedroom. He was thrown down on the bed and, though he was barely conscious, the master set into him.