The Lesser Evil
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters are the property of R.A. Salvatore/Wizards of the Coast ©. I don't own them; I'm just examining all their possibilities.
Author's Note: I would like to give huge thanks to my lone reviewer Waldfee. Thank you for your kind words, they really helped. I would really appreciate any other comments fom anyone else, especially anyon howI could liven this story up a bit.
Chapter 3: Everything He Lived For
It didn't take them long to find the source of the explosion. After a few minutes of walking through a shallow section of wood, Drizzt, Catti-brie, and Guenwhyvar came across what looked to have been an encampment that was now a mess of burning tinder and canvas. Next to the wreckage was a pile of charred remains frozen on the ground in a fetal position. Catti-brie gave a frustrated groan as she approached the tent and picked at the ashes with her longsword (a wedding gift from Drizzt).
"It looks like this poor fellow was a hunter or perhaps a trader." she said grimly, motioning towards a partially burnt sack by the tent. "This pack probably contained skins, but it's all gone now."
Drizzt eyed the scene in disgust, though he kept his keen ears open to the cause of this calamity, probably a thief with a magical toy or perhaps a wizard. He gripped the hilts of his scimitars tightly, readying himself to spring at any moment and watching as Guenwhyvar walked around the perimeter as he instructed her earlier.
"I assume this is the work of those bandits you spoke of earlier," Catti-brie said.
"A magical explosion and a dead fur trader: this is most certainly them," Drizzt responded as he scanned the trees.
A sudden, low growl off to the distance caught their attention. Catti-brie sheathed her sword and drew her magic bow, Taulmaril, nocking a heat-seeking arrow and aiming towards the direction of Guenwhyvar's growl. Drizzt leapt to the opposite side and concealed himself among the firs as he watched the panther readying to spring at an unseen enemy.
The cat leapt up and was thrown down by a mass of fiery bolts shot from the necklace of a now-visible man. Catti-brie shot her bow and a silver streaking arrow landing in the bandit's shoulder, taking off his arm and a large section of his chest in a spray of blood and leaving him dead before crashing to the ground. Drizzt heard a sudden swish of brush behind him and swung Twinkle at the right time to parry a wicked-looking longsword. The blade's wielder, a bald human with a scraggly mustache, growled before disengaging the sword and swinging for Drizzt's side, only to meet Icingdeath in a hail of sparks. A split-second later, the sword was half an inch from the drow's neck before crashing against Twinkle at a force that numbed Drizzt's arm. As the duel continued, the ranger became aware of the human's unnaturally swift movements and the red bracers on his arms.
A scream of metal to the side caught the drow's attention as he looked over for a second to see his wife engaged with a small, scrawny man with a rapier and similar bracers. That brief glance led to a stinging slice on his right forearm as the bandit scored a minor hit, his magical bracers allowing him an advantage over his momentarily distracted foe. Drizzt growled and launched into a flurry of motion, his swords taking rapid feints against the bandit before scoring some small gashes on his leg and shoulder.
"Drizzt!" Catti-brie screamed from behind. Drizzt looked over to see another rough-looking man in red bracers and parried Icingdeath just in time before a sword went for his neck. Soon, he was battling two foes with magical speed and soon feeling a few more minor slashes to his leg and hip. He stepped back and shuffled his feet in various directions, using his own magical bracers to keep the bandits at bay for a second and conjure a globe of darkness over both. With his opponents covered, he charged into the globe, only to find it evaporate into the ruby ring of his second opponent, who stood for a second to enact the spell and charge back at the confused dark elf. Drizzt recovered his wits enough to step back as a sword was shoved at his chest. He erupted into another flurry, but the ache in his injured arm told him the cut had gone deeper than he thought. He thankfully found a split-second opening at the first man's neck and the dexterous drow swung Twinkle through flesh and bone, severing his head and leaving him on the ground.
The remaining bandit didn't seem to notice as he continued his own motions, getting a deeper slice into the upper section of Drizzt's already-injured arm. As the ranger howled and charged at his opponent, he saw another bandit run from the brush. Drizzt felt sick as the new opponent came closer. His energy was waning and his arm hurt unbearably.
Suddenly, a dark figure sprang behind the man and the tip of a blade burst through the bandit's chest. With a downward slice, the bandit crumpled as blood gushed from his broken body. Before Drizzt knew what was happening, his own opponent suddenly froze and dropped his sword. He fell forward, revealing a dagger stuck in the back of his skull and a garishly clad dark elf behind him wearing a smug look. Drizzt's eyes went wide as he gave a loud, gleeful cackle.
"Sorry we're late," Jarlaxle said calmly, "but we were rather engaged for a while."
Catti-brie's opponent was stunned by the drow's sudden appearance, leaving him open for Catti-brie to thrust her sword through his chest and send him flying to the ground.
Drizzt shot Jarlaxle a teasingly mad glare before shifting Twinkle to his other hand and clapping him on the shoulder. Catti-brie gave a surprised look upon seeing Jarlaxle, and then her eyes shot wide as Artemis Entreri emerged from the brush, wiping the blood off Charon's Claw with a corner of his cape.
"Dear gods I never thought I'd be glad to see you," Drizzt said as Entreri drew nearer.
The assassin rolled his eyes before looking at Drizzt.
"Maybe I could say the same," Entreri said dourly.
"How many did you get?" Drizzt asked, looking first at Entreri, then at Jarlaxle.
"Three," the mercenary replied with a grin. "It wasn't easy, but they are all corpses now."
"I've heard there were seven in total," Drizzt said.
"One with an axe and two swordsmen back in the wood," Entreri said. "Three swordsmen and an amateur wizard right in front of us. Unless they carried more cronies in their bags, that would be all of them."
Drizzt looked to the path and saw Guenwhyvar limping in pain. He winced and removed the statue from his pouch.
"So sorry, my friend," he said, rubbing behind her ear. "Go home and rest."
The panther then faded to mist and was soon gone. Jarlaxle walked towards him with a look of wonder.
"How I would love to have an animal like that," he said.
"I'm sure you can find one somewhere," Drizzt said, turning back to Catti-brie to find her staring at the group in silent awe, still not adjusted to the sight of the two mercenaries in front of her.
She never noticed the swordsman behind her, who took a strong swing through the side of her neck and out a section of her shoulder. The three men in front stood stunned as Catti-brie Do'Urden's face relaxed as her head slid forward and the rest of her body crashed backwards. The swordsman, a chunky man with stringy gray hair and an unkempt beard, then roared in pain as a dagger flew into his hip socket, embedding itself firmly between the leg bone and pelvis.
Time seemed to slow for Drizzt, who stared down at Catti-brie's mutilated body, his muscles seizing and his breaths merely staggered gasps. His gaze slowly moved from his wife's corpse to the bastard who killed her, now writhing on the ground screaming.
"Take him!" Jarlaxle cried.
Drizzt didn't move. He only stared at the killer in front of him, his screams soothing the drow's angry soul. He walked up to the bandit, who tried to pull the dagger from his hip, though the pain was too strong and the blade was two deep.
"If he turns the paladin and lets that ruffian live, I swear I will kill them both," Jarlaxle growled to his partner.
Entreri shook his head and stared at Drizzt, observing his gray complexion, trembling hands, and lavender eyes, which were now like two pools of ice.
"Trust me," Entreri said in awe. "That man will die soon."
Drizzt stared at the struggling man, remembering every moment he had ever shared with Catti-brie: the first moment they met, the adventures they shared, the first kiss, those first moments of passion, their beautiful wedding, and every second her head slid off as her body crumpled to the ground. In a flash, Icingdeath swiped off the man's left arm, sending forth a spurt of blood and more screams.
"Do you know who you just killed," Drizzt said calmly, his bare foot stepping on the dagger and pushing down slowly. "That was my wife."
The bandit howled and grabbed the drow's ankle with his remaining arm, only to lose it a second later. Drizzt shook the severed arm off his ankle, and then jumped to a crouch, taking the dagger's hilt in his slender hand and twisting it. His frenzied mind suddenly recalled his sister Briza's similar technique, remembering to twist and push slowly to cause maximum pain while allowing the victim to live longer. Drizzt continued this movement, remembering his wife's laugh and the feel of her soft skin while drinking in the screams and flowing blood of the man who took her away.
Jarlaxle and Entreri stood still as they watched this scene in almost reverential silence. While Jarlaxle wore a small smile, Entreri was expressionless. In his long, hard life he had seen many who committed acts of torture to release anger. He had also seen hardened soldiers who lost their minds after witnessing the deaths of friends, wives, children, and the like. This, however, was different. Artemis Entreri was now witnessing a golden soul melt, a hero who lost everything he lived for and now wore the enraged face of any other drow torturer. It was a scene he found horrifying and gratifying at the same time.
"Just kill me," the bandit screamed, though weak from the blood loss. "Kill me, you black-skinned son of a bitch!"
Entreri walked forward, removing his magical gauntlet from his side bag and putting it on.
Drizzt's twisting stopped momentarily as he stared at the man's broken body. Then a jeweled hilt came in front of his face, the blade held by a red gauntlet.
"Do as he says, Do'Urden," Entreri whispered in his ear. "Finish him."
Drizzt glanced up at the assassin, and then grabbed the hilt.
"Just hold it in his flesh for one full second," he said, letting go of the blade.
The drow looked at the dagger, then at Catti-brie's murderer.
"Enjoy the Nine Hells," Drizzt said, thrusting the blade through the bandit's chest, waiting a second and feeling the cold rush of the killer's life pouring through his body. The bandit's flesh went pale as his face snapped into a look of terror, his breath now a series of choking gasps. Drizzt felt his own wounds closing and energy coursing through his veins; the greatest sensation he ever knew in his life. He leaned over and savored the rush, as well as his victim's horror. Then the flow of life stopped. Drizzt fell to his back, his muscles still trembling as he slowly regained his senses.
The ranger sat up, reorienting himself to his new reality. He looked at the dagger again and shoved it into the muddy ground before slowly coming to his shaking legs. Drizzt looked at the man's body in a daze, then at Entreri and Jarlaxle, then to Catti-brie. He stumbled to his wife and fell to his knees beside her, taking her head in his trembling hands and putting it back on her neck. Nothing else existed in the world at that point: not the wood, not the dead bandits, not the two mercenaries. Nothing else existed but his beloved, his wife, his best friend lying dead before him. He put one hand through her auburn hair as the other brushed down her face, closing her blue eyes forever.
Drizzt let out a pained groan that quickly erupted into a series of rising sobs. He clutched Catti-brie in his arms and wailed, his body nothing more than a trembling mass of flesh.
Jarlaxle stood numb for a second, and then walked over to Drizzt, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and kneeling next to him. Entreri bent down to retrieve his dagger from the ground, his eyes never leaving the broken dark elf in front of him. He heard Jarlaxle whisper some soothing words in his ear that sounded like drow, yet he didn't care to pay attention.
He just watched as the perpetually stoic Drizzt Do'Urden crumbled to pieces as Entreri felt his own hands start to shake and a building heat rise behind his eyes. It wasn't more than a pressure headache, he thought. The burn grew, a heat the assassin last remembered when he was a child crushed by the streets of Calimport and the fists of so many false heroes. Then the salty drop welled from his eye and streamed down his cheek.
"Gods dammit!" he spat, scraping off the tear with the back of his gloved hand as if it was a vile substance. Jarlaxle be damned; he wanted to slay Do'Urden where sat, finally ending his miserable existence and sending him to his damn wife in eternity. Though even if he desired the ranger's death, his body wouldn't allow him to move from that spot. Artemis Entreri just stared at the wailing dark elf before, a mirror of his own soul he was no longer afraid to face.
"You two should go," Drizzt managed to say through heavy sobs. "Someone could come here and recognize you both."
Jarlaxle nodded, gave Drizzt a last pat on the shoulder, then rose.
"I say we take as many heads as we can and return to Luskan," he said to his partner, who nodded slowly.
"Fare well, khal abbil," the mercenary said to his young friend. "And may beautiful Catti-brie rest in peace."
He then reached into his pocket and produced a small, adamantine disk.
"I'm sure you recognize this," Jarlaxle said, handing the disk to Drizzt.
Drizzt recognized the image of a spider holding a different weapon in each leg with the letters "DN" written in the spider's body: the seal of House Do'Urden.
"It was your father's," the mercenary said. "I meant to give it to you under happier circumstances, but I also possess the one your brother had when he was in Bregan D'aerthe." Jarlaxle then produced a similar disk from the same pocket. "I'm sure you know how to use it, so summon me whenever you feel the need. And don't worry, no one else cares about the seal of a long fallen house, so no one else will intercept the message"
"Thank you, Jarlaxle," Drizzt replied weakly.
Jarlaxle bowed, and then ran off into the woods. Drizzt's gaze fixed on the ground as Entreri walked past him. The assassin then stopped, pondering something he would have never thought to do. He walked back to Drizzt, held his hand out in hesitation, and clapped him firmly, yet stiffly on the shoulder. The drow met his gaze briefly to see the assassin's eyes red, his face grim. Entreri then turned and walked in the direction of his partner.
Drizzt closed his eyes, having just received the warmest gesture he had felt in his life.
