Drizzt sat in the darkness, cold, wounded and alone, for countless hours. His mind raced with thoughts and fears and worries. He thought and remembered all that had occurred, all that he had done, that had brought him to this point. He had saved Inriole's life by taking her from the village. He had only tried to help her, but in the end, he had betrayed her most of all. Everything he had ever said to her had, in essence, been a lie. By letting her believe that he was a light elf, Drizzt had broken the trust that she had put in him. He knew he would be lucky if she could ever fully trust anyone ever again.
Drizzt feared what would befall him. However, no matter how chilling the realization of imminent death was, Drizzt feared more for Inriole. She had done nothing wrong, ever in her life. She was the victim of unforeseeable circumstances, and Drizzt feared what would become of her. She had more than eight centuries left to live, and she would never regain her sight. She needed to be taken care of, and who could do that?
Even as his mind swirled with these matters, Drizzt remained outwardly calm. Even in his short life so far, he had come to know that death was not the thing to be feared; the thing to be feared was what came before, that is, life. So it was, that Drizzt feared not for himself, but for the life that Inriole would lead, and would still be leading for centuries after all the people of this town were dead and buried.
Hours later, after Drizzt had fallen asleep on the hard unforgiving floor of the cell,, he was woken by the slam of the cell door as it banged against the wall. He blinked his eyes open, and focused on the two guards that had entered. One was holding a small hand axe, which he brandished at the dark elf. "Get up, drow" the man growled, accentuating his request with a kick to Drizzt's leg. As Drizzt slowly got to his feet, he noticed that his wounded shoulder was not full of the sharp piercing pain he had felt earlier. Now it only gave off a dull throb. Also, he noticed, the poultice Orwen had bound to his shoulder prevented him from too much movement with his arm. It was this restriction of movement that prevented Drizzt from standing as quickly as the guards would have liked. They grunted, and looked away, instead of lending a hand to get the injured drow to his feet. Even without their help, Drizzt finally stood straight in front of the two men. Although he was more than half a foot shorter that either of them, they found themselves quailing under his penetrating gaze.
The larger of the two, the one without the axe, soon shook off the elf's stare.
"Hands out, drow!" he said gruffly.
When Drizzt complied, wincing at the pain in his shoulder, the man held out a pair of manacles, which he closed over Drizzt's wrists. He gave the chain attached to the manacles a sharp tug.
"Come on, drow. There's someone who wants to see you." Nearly pulling Drizzt off his feet, the man walked out of the cell. His companion waited until Drizzt had left, and then followed close behind.
Drizzt was led by the guards down a long corridor. They passed other cells on the way, but only a few were occupied. At the end of the corridor, on the left hand side was a door. The guard in front of Drizzt noticed that he and the men were not the only people in the room. Sitting at a small table on the other side of the room were Inriole and Orwen. Inriole sat on the old womans lap. He stared at Drizzt, or where she knew he was.
"Inriole!" Drizzt gasped. He started forward immediately, but stopped when the guard yanked him back with the chain attached to his wrists.
"Drizzt?" said Inriole. "Why are you here?"
"I had to see you," the drow elf replied. "I had to know that you were OK." Turning to the guards, Drizzt said, Please, let me go to her."
The guards looked surprised, then the first man said, "Alright, drow, but don't try anything. Or else." The man accentuated his remark by tugging hard on Drizzt's chains, nearly causing the drow to loose his footing.
Drizzt stood up straight and began to walk slowly toward Inriole and Orwen. The healer's eyes watched him distrustfully the en tire way. When Drizzt was within 10 feet of them, the guard holding the chain jerked it. This time Drizzt did fall to the ground. The guards laughed. Drizzt pushed himself up to his knees. He looked at Inriole. She hadn't looked up since he came through the door. "Inriole," he said. Still she kept her face to the floor. "Please look at me." She turned her face to his.
"I can't look at you, Drizzt. Never. Thanks to you." She turned away again.
Drizzt sighed and looked at the floor. "I never meant to hurt you. I fought for you against the drow in your village…" Drizzt stopped speaking when he felt her blind gaze upon him again.
"You mean the other drow," she said accusingly.
Drizzt looked up. "Yes. The other drow. But I'm not like them. I'm not evil. I never meant to hurt you," he repeated.
"You lied to me," said Inriole. "You said you were and elf. Not a drow."
"I never said I wasn't a drow, Inriole. And I am an elf. Pointy ears, remember?"
For a brief moment, Inriole smiled, but then the smile vanished and she was once again solemn. "Why did you lie, Drizzt?"
The dark elf took a deep breath trying to think how to answer her question. "I lied to you because…because you were the first person since Mooshie who didn't run from the sight of my skin. Because I needed a friend, and…and you needed one too."
Inriole nodded. "I'm still mad at you," she said. "But its OK. Thank you." She smiled at him, with all the grace and forgiveness of a child.
When Inriole finished speaking, Drizzt turned to Orwen, who, as he now noticed, was staring at him with a strange expression on her face. She said, "Mooshie? You know the ranger?"
Drizzt nodded. "I knew him. He taught me all I know about the surface."
Orwen said quietly, "Knew?"
Drizzt looked down. "He died. Just a few months ago. Did you know him?"
"Oh, yes. I knew him very well." Orwen paused for a few moments, lost in reflection. Then she looked up and smiled. "I never knew you were that drow, ducky. Hooter told me all about you." As Drizzt grinned at the mention of Montolio's 'seeing-eye owl,' Orwen looked sharply up at the guards, one of whom still standing at the door, and the other behind Drizzt. "Well?" she said, somewhat angrily. "Let him go!"
The guards glanced at each other confusedly. "What do you mean, Mistress Orwen?" one of the men ventured.
"I mean set him free. This drow has done nothing wrong! He knew the ranger Montolio. Set him free, I say!" As she spoke, she took Inriole off her lap and advanced slowly on the guards.
"No, Mistress. We can't do that," said the guard holding the other end of Drizzt's chains. "The drow was sentenced to death by the magistrate. He'll hang tomorrow, for all his evil deeds." The guard yanked Drizzt to his feet.
Orwen's face grew red. "We'll just see about that!" She picked up Inriole and stormed toward the door.
As they left, Drizzt heard Inriole say, "What do they mean, sentenced to death?"