Chapter 7
Entreri walked out the door of the stateroom, set his alarm, then took several steps down the narrow hallway before leaning up against the wooden paneling to breathe for a moment. She was safely on board. The guildhouse was no longer under suspicion of harboring him, and Dwavhel was safely on board.
He'd been momentarily terrified—and the feeling was not one he was accustomed to. It put him even more on edge to know that he was capable of that particular brand of anxiety.
Within three breaths he'd calmed himself, however, and headed up topside to check for pursuit. He didn't think they were being followed, but he would not feel comfortable until he'd confirmed it.
On the upper deck, the lookout stood chatting idly with the helmsman, his spyglass idle in his hands.
"May I?" Entreri forced himself to ask politely.
"Of course, sir," the lookout replied, handing it over.
Entreri scanned the horizon behind him for any sign of a ship in pursuit. There was nothing. No sails, no fireballs. He passed the spyglass back to the young man on duty and even managed to say, "Thank you."
However, his veneer of calm gentility was shattered utterly when one of the rougher of the sailors commented, "Nice little piece you brought aboard."
The dagger was at his throat and the huge tattooed man found himself halfway over the rail as Entreri whispered savagely, "Do not so much as look at her at your peril."
Then as quickly as it happened, it was over. The big man rubbed at his neck anxiously as Entreri walked away from him, blending effortlessly into the shadows of the deck.
Downstairs, he opened the door of the stateroom to find Dwahvel sitting at the dressing table, fixing her hair, partially because her rapid departure that morning hadn't given her much time to work on her appearance and partially to give her fingers something to do beside throttle Artemis for dragging her into his breakdown.
Artemis set at least a half-dozen traps on the inside of the locked door and another half-dozen on the window before finally kneeling behind her to look past her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror.
"Isn't that overkill?" she asked. "We're in the middle of the ocean. Who's going to come calling out here?"
He looked at her seriously. "I've done some of my best work in the middle of the ocean," he explained. "I take no chances. Not where you are concerned."
He put his arm around her waist and leaned his head against her back as if listening to her heartbeat. Then he moved her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck, then her shoulder. She couldn't help the shiver that ran through her as he ran his fingers along her spine.
Soon he had all her clothes and they lay together on the double bunk, the motion of the waves adding its own interest to their activities. Afterwards as he lay beside her, his hand spread warm across her belly, she wondered if she still regretted sleeping with him.
She stroked his fingers and enjoyed the warmth of his body beside her. He had been so careful with her, so giving. She'd never dreamed that Artemis Entreri could be so considerate a lover.
She tried to tell him she wasn't that delicate, but stopped short of admitting he wasn't the first human she'd been with. That would be her secret, she decided.
The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him, and she understood now how badly she could. She'd seen where Artemis was heading emotionally. She'd seen it in his eyes. She'd seen the vulnerability of his unguarded heart.
She'd seen love and trust, but lurking just behind was the shadow of fear.
And she knew that she had the power to break his heart. To possibly break it so badly that it would never heal. Damn that drow Jarlaxle, she thought again. Damn him for leaving her Artemis so defenseless.
She knew then that she couldn't leave, not until she knew he could take it. Not until he was strong enough to let her go.
As she ran her fingers over his, it never occurred to her that she might the one who couldn't let go. But for the first time in her life, she did wish she was taller.
The days passed slowly as they traveled.
He made every effort to be certain she was comfortable and the time in their cabin was passed very pleasantly indeed. But despite his concern, he kept her far too close for her liking.
He rarely let her out on deck, but never outside of his reach and always far away from any of the sailors on board.
Living under this possessiveness infuriated her at first, until she realized that she was the only female on board a ship containing some very rough-looking characters. She was forced to admit there might be a point to his paranoia.
However, they did dine in the evenings with Captain Jarrol and some of his officers, a nice enough group, if a little on the inexperienced side. To her confusion, Artemis had introduced himself that first evening as Cadderly Bonaduce and her as his wife Danica.
When she asked him why that night in the privacy of their stateroom, he replied, "Because Jarlaxle has already introduced himself as Drizzt Do'Urden across Faerun. And it pleases me to think that somewhere in the Snowflake Mountains, the good priest Cadderly knows I've stolen his name for my own nefarious purposes."
However, unless having dinner and making polite conversation was nefarious, Dwahvel couldn't see that Artemis had done anything to bring dishonor to the name. She did wisely refrain from saying so, however. Gods and priests were a particular sore spot in Artemis's psyche.
That did not stop him from going out each morning at dawn to watch the sun rise. She went with him a few times, watching from a comfortable perch on his lap as he sat on the upper deck. He'd wrap his arms and cloak around her for warmth as she leaned against his shoulder.
The morning was always so peaceful. There was very little activity on deck with usually only the night watch and the helmsman at their posts.
Artemis just sat there and watched as the day began to turn from gray to purple then red then gold. By the time the sky was blue, they were already back in their cabin as the deckhands began to come out for the day.
However, when they were just over a day out from Waterdeep, the morning was especially cool and she elected to stay inside in the warmth of the cabin. He'd given her a kiss on the forehead, thrown his cloak around his shoulders and gone out on his own.
The sky had just begun to turn colors through the window when he suddenly burst through the door again.
"Black sails," he explained, his face set and pale. He tossed his cloak to the side and reached into his bag for his heavy leather jerkin and buckled it into place. Then he buckled on his swordbelt, but removed the jeweled dagger from its sheath.
From somewhere in his bag he produced another dagger which he unceremoniously shoved into the sheath, then pressed the jeweled dagger into her palm as he knelt before her.
"Do not hesitate to use its darkest powers to save yourself," he charged her seriously. "Get ready quickly. They will be on us soon. I will never be far away."
He looked deeply into her face, reaching behind her to tangle his fingers in the curls at the back of her neck. Then he kissed her with a rough passion unlike any he'd allowed himself before and left the room, setting his security measures behind him.
"Be careful, Artemis," she called to him, but he was already gone.
On the deck, Entreri stood with the captain and watched as the pirate frigate came closer. Clearly the pirates had a magical advantage with the wind to gain on them so rapidly.
"I don't suppose your talents lie in magic, Mr. Bonaduce," Captain Jarrol ventured as the men made ready for battle.
"Not hardly," Entreri replied. "But I will be happy to lend my blade if you will but tell me where it will be of most use."
"Once they see that we have no wizards to fireball them into oblivion, I feel certain they'll make plans to board," Jarrol stated wearily. "Your blade will be of use all over the deck at that time."
When the pirate wizard volleyed a few fireballs into the sails with no reprisal, he redoubled his windmaking efforts to place the pirates within boarding range. Soon, they drew near enough to begin throwing grapples, which the crew of the ship cut away as fast as they could, delaying the moment when the pirates could swarm the decks.
Entreri, however, did not possess patience enough to wait for the pirates to actually make the decks of the ship. His intention was to see that they never got that close, especially since the window into his stateroom was within their direct line of fire.
So with a running leap, he cleared the space between the two ships and set into the nearest combatants, the red blade of Charon's Claw quickly dripping with the red blood of the first fallen pirate.
His bravery enheartened the other crewmen and they too proceeded to bring the attack to the pirate ship rather than wait. The archers in the rigging were so surprised by the attack of their prey that they failed to fire a single arrow into the fray until the combatants were so mixed in together they could not fire for hitting their own men.
Entreri quickly followed his first kill with two more. He surveyed the messy battle on the deck, coming to the quick conclusion that both crews were completely useless. He had no idea where these pirates had come from, but judging from their level of skill and organization, they wouldn't be around much longer even against such rank amateurs as the merchant sailors.
The wizard, however, was slightly more effective and continued to work his mix of spells against them. He blasted into the defending crewmen repeatedly, but Entreri soon realized that his powers consisted more of flash and bang than thoughtful use of a real arsenal.
Using the gauntlet, a very useful object he had to admit, he easily caught or deflected the bolts flung in his direction, then sprang close enough to slip his dagger's point inside the stupefied wizard's defenses.
To his surprise and the wizard's, the dagger slipped right in. No stoneskin. No defensive casting. He'd not fought a wizard this unprepared in an extremely long time. It almost felt disappointing to have bothered with him.
Entreri's dissatisfaction at dealing with the substandard wizard dissipated as he noticed some of the pirates making their way between the ships toward the cabins. Knowing that their time was limited, they likely were looking to lift any treasure found in the captain's cabin or staterooms while the crew was busy defending the decks.
That put them entirely too close to Dwahvel for Entreri's comfort. Almost idly, he took out a pair of pirates with swords—he'd hardly call them swordsmen—on his way back to the ship.
Three of the invaders stood in the hallway before his door, puzzling over the traps he'd set. That was both a good and a bad sign, he thought. Good in that they'd not gotten into the room, bad in that they were intelligent enough to realize the door was trapped.
"You'll not be entering that stateroom," he said with steel in his voice. "Either go back to your ship or die here. It matters not to me."
The first one chose to die there. He charged Entreri, his short sword before him. The narrowness of the hallway limited Entreri's use of Charon's Claw, but he made up for it by using the walls themselves as parrying tools for the pirate's savage, yet undisciplined attack. Entreri's dagger found entrance between the man's ribs within moments.
The next two chose to attack simultaneously, not precisely a good idea considering the narrowness of the quarters, and Entreri turned their lack of maneuverability to his advantage. Soon they stumbled against each other in their efforts to retreat before him.
One of them alerted him with a look of relief past Entreri's shoulder that they'd been joined by another combatant. Entreri glanced back and shifted his weight forward against the wall in time to avoid the arrow which buried itself in the shoulder of one of the pirates facing him.
This man fell back, dropping his sword, leaving only one fighter before him and one archer behind.
For a split second, Entreri half-wished he had access to Jarlaxle's library of tricks. He hated archers. They made their kills from a distance and never looked you in the eyes.
He stayed constantly on the move to prevent the archer from sighting him clearly. Then maneuvering the swordsman before him off balance, he pushed past him, putting himself behind the man as a shield instead. The archer forbore from shooting his own crewmate in the back, but stayed vigilant in case Entreri should kill the man and thus lose his shield.
Entreri however had no intention of killing his shield until he was ready. Instead he forced the pirate backwards toward the archer, intending to be within striking distance of both when that moment came.
He dropped the swordsman as intended, but before he made his play for the archer, he heard his alarm on the stateroom door. The pirate who'd taken the arrow in the shoulder had recovered enough to make his own play for the locked room, certain it must contain something extremely valuable to be so well-protected.
The logical part of Entreri's brain knew that there was no way such an amateur would get through all his security alive, much less get through it before he could get to him.
However, the emotional part of him could only see this man inches away from Dwahvel. And who knew what was going on outside the window as the pirates continued their attack. He ran back down the hallway to the stateroom, slamming the pirate aside and easily burying Charon's Claw into his belly.
An arrow whistling past his head reminded him of the archer that awaited and he turned his attention back to him. Without cover in the hallway, he chose speed and recklessness as his tactics of choice and hoped the archer had both a slow restringing time and poor aim under pressure.
Neither turned out to be true, as the man neatly clipped him in the shoulder, sending a burst of white pain down his arm and weakening his grip on his sword. His dagger, however, was secure in his hand, and he looked the archer in the eyes as he killed him.
Roughly, he jerked the arrow free, aware that a warm wash of blood came free with it. Then he ran down the hall to the stateroom. "Dwahvel, are you all right in there?" he called.
"I'm fine," she called back. "I think it's over."
Dwahvel could see out the window that the pirates had been overwhelmed by the forces aboard the ship--in particular, by the force of nature known as Artemis Entreri. Through her window, she'd watched as he'd singlehandedly taken down six pirates and the wizard. She didn't think she'd ever seen anything more frightening.
Or more exciting.
"Stay put," he called through the door. "I'll be back."
He ran back down the hall to see the crew reboarding the ship, several pirates in tow.
"Well done, Mr. Bonaduce," called Captain Jarrol.
"We've taken her. We've actually taken her," the young lookout added, proudly towing a disarmed prisoner. He was nearly giddy with relief.
All Entreri could think was that if that particular pirate crew had been the least bit organized, they would all be at the bottom of the Sea of Swords. He reminded himself never to sail with amateurs again—merchants or pirates.
He watched as the remaining prisoners were hustled off to the brig and made certain they were securely enclosed. The last thing he wanted was to be awakened in the night by a mutiny.
A skeleton crew was assigned to the pirate ship to sail her into Waterdeep. Entreri stayed on hand with the captain to be certain that he didn't make the mistake of putting all his best officers and crewmembers on the captured frigate, leaving only the rabble to run the merchant vessel.
After all, the last thing he wanted was to be awakened in the night by a mutiny.
Part of him was aware that his shoulder was still bleeding. Part of him knew that if he didn't get it taken care of, he'd likely pass out from loss of blood.
The other part was more concerned with Dwahvel. He determined that his own comfort could wait until the safety of the ship, and by extension her safety, was secured.
Once things were settled to his satisfaction, he turned to go back to his quarters. He noticed as he disabled the last of the traps on the door that his fingers were going a little numb. Then he opened the door and walked inside.
He'd managed to take two steps toward her when the room swirled with black spots and the floor reached up for him with a rush.
