Rise of the King: The Legend of Drizzt by R.A. Salvatore

Author:R.A. Salvatore [Salvatore, R.A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786965519
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2014-09-30T00:00:00+00:00

“And here, we part ways,” Jarlaxle said at the bottom of a long climbing path. Up ahead and far to the right, the south, loomed the towering ice wall of the Glacier of the White Wyrm, and directly up the trail, the trio could just make out the crenulated top of the highest stone keep of the large structure known as the Monastery of the Yellow Rose. “Though not for long, I hope.”

“And my hope was to escort you into the monastery beside me,” Brother Afafrenfere replied, “As my guest. There is much of interest to see within those walls, a vast repository of knowledge.”

“You are not returning to the monastery in good standing,” Jarlaxle reminded.

“Aye, he’s got a point,” said Ambergris.

“And I doubt that bringing along a drow elf would do much to engender the trust of the Brothers of the Yellow Rose,” Jarlaxle added with a laugh.

Afafrenfere nodded, conceding the point, and he seemed genuinely dismayed.

“Make me the offer again when such a visit will not threaten your own standing within the order,” Jarlaxle said. “You will have no trouble convincing me to visit if the libraries of the monastery are as I remember, and your brethren will have me.”

Afafrenfere brightened at that and happily nodded.

“Hold then! What?” Ambergris said, however, and she added incredulously, “As ye remember?”

Afafrenfere looked at her curiously, then back at Jarlaxle, catching on to the reasoning. “You have been there before?”

The drow laughed and pulled out a small onyx figurine, dropping it to the ground at his feet. “I am Jarlaxle,” he explained. “I have been everywhere.” With that, he summoned his magical hell horse and pulled himself up onto the saddle.

“I have business in Heliogabalus,” he explained. “It could be finished quickly, or perhaps it will take me tendays to sort it out. In any case, I will return to this place and send word to you, and if you choose, perhaps we will have roads yet to travel together. Perhaps I will have news of Effron and Artemis Entreri, as well.” He tipped his hat.

“If ye won’t go into the place, then how’ll ye send word to us?” Ambergris asked.

The dark elf laughed. “I am Jarlaxle,” he answered, as if that explained everything.

It did.

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