Chapter 10

A few days later, they sailed into Luskan harbor, appalled by the sight that met their eyes. Smoke hung over the city from distant fires. The usually busy, crowded docks were empty of all but a few gaunt-eyed men who shuffled back and forth slowly.

The call went out that the fleet was coming in, but that call soon went quiet as Captain Jarrol informed those meeting them that they were all that remained of the fleet. The city reeled from the shock. No caravan. No fleet.

All Artemis Entreri wanted to do was provision the ship and set out again. The misery and hopelessness that hung over Luskan was worse than facing lacedons again. At least he knew how to dispel lacedons. There was no dispelling the gloom of Luskan.

They walked out onto the docks as the dock crew began unloading the precious grain they'd managed to deliver intact. One load wouldn't last a week in the face of this kind of starvation. Personally, Entreri didn't think it would last the night. One of the city's many crime syndicates would have it stolen and on the black market by daybreak. Not a kernel would end up in the hands of the ones who needed it most.

Captain Deudermont sent his greetings, but was too deeply embroiled with the politics of the city to meet them in person. His ship, Sea Sprite, lay at anchor just down the quay and her crew stood on her decks with an air of uneasy readiness and watched as the Bonfire's crew passed down the walkway to the nearest tavern.

Entering, the few remaining crewmen, including Mellisandra, were treated to a half-hearted, weary cheer. Then a barmaid came up to them with half-portions of ale. "Sorry it ain't full glasses, but we're on strict ration. Getting any at all is a real treat and compliment to you," she explained with a sigh.

The tavern's keeper came up then with a large covered tray. "We've got a meal for you at least, compliments of Ship Suljack. We thank you for all you suffered to get here and wish we had better to offer," he said. Then he pulled the lid off the tray to reveal an odd, dark looking meat and large dish of strange spotted mushrooms.

Entreri rose from his seat, went out the front door, and promptly vomited in the gutter. He knew that food. He'd been forced to eat rothe and underdark mushrooms for far too long as a near-captive in Menzoberranzan.

A layer of snow still coated the top of a nearby rain barrel and he grabbed a handful, scrubbing his face with the cold granules until his skin felt clean again.

Jarlaxle.

There was no explanation for it but Jarlaxle and Bregan D'aerthe.

Well, he thought to himself, at least Jarlaxle was feeding them something.

But he would not eat it.

They spent the next two days aboard ship. No one had the desire to walk the depressing streets of Luskan. There was a continual feeling of apprehension and unrest everywhere they went. Not even Memnon had been this way, Entreri decided. In truth, it felt more like Mezoberranzan than any other place he'd been.

However, the fear, the paranoia, the hopelessness that pervaded everything should have felt more familiar to him than it did. He'd spent almost his entire life in places that ran off this very kind of energy—the backstreets of Calimport, the wilderness of Vaasa, the underworld of nearly every city in Faerun.

It should have felt comfortable and understandable.

But it didn't. It felt wrong and oppressive. Had he changed so much?

He twisted the gold band on his finger and seriously considered going home. He'd gotten Captain Jarrol and the Bonfire to Luskan. He'd seen the cargo delivered safely. He'd nearly died in the defense of the ship. Surely that was enough.

Then he thought of Emory. He hadn't protected all of them. And he couldn't leave Jarrol with so few to get the ship home again. He let go of the ring and looked up.

Even the sun refused to shine over Luskan. Heavy clouds blanketed the sky, dropping cold rain and the occasional snowflake. They all longed to go south where the weather was warmer and the sun shone clearer.

But on the day they'd planned to depart, all hell had broken loose. Entreri and Jarrol stood on the deck of the Bonfire, interviewing the large numbers of crewmen that had applied for the replacement positions on board. It seemed that all of Luskan was willing to work passage for free if it meant getting to leave the city and go to Waterdeep.

Then the cry had gone up, "Lacedons! Lacedons in the harbor!"

But as Entreri and crew had gone to alert, Entreri already calling on the power of the shadow stones to protect Bonfire, it became apparent that the lacedons were targeting only Captain Deudermont's ship, Sea Sprite.

Then Sea Sprite began to list heavily and smoke as some sort of wizardly duel took place in the hold. Entreri followed through with his banishment spell on the lacedons, but many had already fled in the confusion on board.

It was only later that they'd discovered that Robillard, the Sea Sprite wizard, had defeated Arklem Geeth, destroying the lich that had sunk the Waterdeep flotilla. Then word had come that Captain Deudermont was also dead and the glorious task of freeing the city of Luskan from the Hosttower was over.

The Hosttower lay in ruins, its lich defeated, but so lay the city of Luskan. And the heroes of Waterdeep, Lord Brambleberry and Captain Deudermont, had also lost their lives in the process.

"Who is the victor in this?" Captain Jarrol asked Entreri as they stood at the rail and looked over the wreck of the Sea Sprite.

"No one. No one has won but the carrion birds who pick up the pieces," Entreri answered. And somewhere out there a giant diatryma busily pecked out its portion of the spoils, he thought wryly.

Their departure delayed a bit longer in the ensuing chaos of the moment, Entreri ventured out into the streets one last time. He wasn't sure why, but something drew him out there to see for himself first hand what madness Jarlaxle had wrought.

True, he decided as he passed through the streets, Jarlaxle couldn't have been responsible for all of it. He just wasn't the type to put forth that much effort.

However, he was the type to exploit the efforts of others for his benefit. And in his short time in Luskan, Entreri had already decided who had the most to gain from the change of power—the four surviving ship captains who ran the city.

Find those men, and he would find Jarlaxle.

Then he decided he was not looking for him. Entreri turned around and headed back to the harbor. He was going home.

Watching him approach was a dark elf and his shorter companion, who stood steely-eyed, mace in hand.

"Come on, Drizzt," the halfling pleaded. "It's Artemis Entreri. We'll never get a better chance to take him out."

"No, there's no reason for it," Drizzt responded quietly. He wanted as little to do with Artemis Entreri as possible. He hated the sight of him but had no current quarrel with him either.

"He cut off my finger, Drizzt," Regis complained. "That's reason enough for me."

"And you healed nicely," Drizzt replied. "Let bygones be bygones."

They stood in the shadows and watched at a distance as Entreri turned around and headed back in the direction of the merchant ship he'd arrived on. Perhaps the assassin was not seeking to rejoin the drow mercenary's group after all. Drizzt's last encounter with Jarlaxle and the frightening dwarf Athrogate had been quite enough for him. He simply wanted out of Luskan.

But in good conscience, since learning of the assassin's arrival on the only flotilla ship to reach Waterdeep, he could not leave without having some idea that Artemis Entreri did not seek to do great harm while he was there. Luskan was reeling bad enough from all that had happened to it without adding Entreri's considerable power for devastation to the mix.

Just as he made up his mind to confront him, he saw Entreri stop suddenly and hold out his left hand as if examining it, an odd expression crossing his face. Then Drizzt noticed a wide gold band on his third finger. A band that matched the one Catti-brie had given him. A wedding band?

A shimmer in the air ahead of the assassin told of a dimensional gate opening, and a halfling woman stepped through, a silver dagger in her grip. She blinked once, as if orienting herself, then with a cry threw herself at Entreri.

At first Drizzt thought he was watching an assassination in progress, then when Entreri dropped to his knee to embrace the woman passionately, he realized it was a reunion. The halfling's dagger dropped to the street with a ring of metal as she wound her arms around Entreri's neck and her fingers into his hair.

"Dwahvel? Dwahvel Tiggerwillies? And Artemis Entreri?" Regis was saying in disbelief. "I think I am going to be sick. Dwahvel Tiggerwillies is far too good for that evil wretch. What on earth does she see in him?"

Sure enough, Drizzt could see that this was a couple in love. He could see the relief and joy on Entreri's face as he kissed the woman again and again, caressing her face in his hands and holding her tenderly.

This was a side of Entreri he never thought he'd see. Watching them together, the love so evident, the concern, the joy at their reunion, made him miss Catti-brie.

Was Catti happy adventuring without him? Had the road been the pleasure and adventure they both thought it would be? When they were reunited, would she kiss her husband with that kind of joy and abandonment? Would he hold his wife with the same look of peace in her embrace?

Leaving the two on the street, Drizzt took Regis firmly by the shoulder and turned him towards home. He never thought to envy Artemis Entreri of anything, but right that moment he did.

From a spot just down the street, another dark elf watched Drizzt and Regis walk away with great interest.

However, the two lovers had no idea they were being observed at all.

"What are you doing here?" Artemis was asking Dwahvel over and over between kisses and caresses.

She was so happy to see him alive and in Luskan and not at the bottom of the ocean that she couldn't find words to speak. All she could do was hold him and kiss him in return.

At last, he calmed enough to just hold her quietly against him, oblivious to the fact that they stood in the open on a public street.

"The news came that the fleet had been destroyed," Dwahvel began, but her voice began to break as she spoke and she had to continue through her tears. "Then they said that one ship had made it through. I knew it was you. I knew if anyone made it through it was you."

She held him close and let all her worries and fears over the past months pour out onto his shoulder as he held her tightly and stroked her back.

After a moment she wiped her eyes and managed to continue, "I was so scared, Artemis. I was so afraid that I'd step through that gate and find you on the bottom of the ocean."

"And then you would have been on the bottom of the ocean," he chastised her as he stood and took her hand to walk her back to the ship.

"But I'd have been with you," she said. "I couldn't go another minute not knowing." As they walked together, she leaned her head against his arm as he held her hand tightly, her fingers intertwined in his.

"Ah, the Entreris," came a voice from the darkness of a doorway beside them. "What brings you to the fair city of Luskan?"

Entreri turned to face him, weariness evident in his movements. "I don't really have any interest in bantering with you, Jarlaxle," he stated.

"Oh, but I have great interest in bantering with you, Artemis," Jarlaxle stated, stepping forward from a doorway. "And I think you have come in search of me as well. Either that, or you were seeking another encounter with Drizzt Do'Urden, who just lately wandered off--" Jarlaxle pointed roughly behind him "--somewhere that direction."

Entreri's weariness burned off him in a sudden rush of anger toward the manipulative, lying, self-serving elf.

"Yes, I had indeed heard that he was alive after all, Jarlaxle," Entreri snapped. "Tell me, did you set that whole business up just as entertainment for yourself? How many good laughs did you and Kimmuriel have over the poor deluded human and his pathetic obsession?"

Jarlaxle looked stunned and hurt, but Entreri knew him too well to believe it for a moment. "No, Artemis. I did that for your own good, not for my entertainment," the elf explained.

"And making me King Artemis I of Vaasa was also for my own good?" Entreri pressed on in his anger. "How about setting me up with Calihye? You knew what she was planning. Was it for my own good that you let her go through with it? Just to watch me squirm?"

Artemis had walked even closer to Jarlaxle, his hand still tightly clenching Dwahvel's but holding her away as well. "And how about Idalia's Flute, Jarlaxle? Did you pass that little item along to me for my own good or just to watch me fall apart?" he asked coldly.

Jarlaxle just blinked at him, apparently taken aback by the depths of his friend's anger. "No, Artemis. I wanted to help you. I wanted you to discover yourself," he stated firmly.

Artemis glared at him, then took a deep breath.

"Perhaps you are the one in need of self-discovery, Jarlaxle," Artemis replied, his voice calmer now. "Perhaps the next time you wish to uncover a person's inner motivations, you should concentrate on your own. You should ask yourself what drives you. You should consider the size of the emptiness in your own heart that you're trying to fill."

Dwahvel watched as Artemis stood right in front of the drow mercenary and put his hand on Jarlaxle's chest. "Half the people of Luskan have died trying to fill that void inside you. People who never did you any harm. Children who are never going to get the chance to discover themselves because their future is gone, wiped out by your need for power and profit," he continued sadly. "There's a huge hole in there, Jarlaxle. Be careful all of Faerun doesn't have to die to fill it."

Then Artemis dropped his hand back to his side and his voice grew cold again as he stated, "I don't want to be your enemy. But if you set your sights on Waterdeep, I will fight you. I will fight you to the end before I'll let you do there what you've done here."

For once, Jarlaxle was silent as Artemis turned to walk away, pulling Dwahvel even closer as he did so. They walked together in silence for several moments. Then he stated in a flat voice, "Emory's dead. Half the crew is dead. Half the city is dead. And all for profit. Profit and opportunity."

He stopped in the street and looked up at the sun, blinking in the light for a long moment. Then he looked down at her again and dropped his arm across her shoulder, catching ringlets of her hair in his fingers. She put her arm around his waist, becoming aware for the first time that he wasn't wearing a sword at all.