The Collected Stories, the Legend of Drizzt by R.A. Salvatore

Author:R.A. Salvatore
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780786961450
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2011-09-13T05:00:00+00:00

His knife had been taken and he was blindfolded, but Drizzt had expected as much, and he knew well enough the steps along these alleyways and where Thurgood’s men were taking him. It did occur to him many times that the group might well kill him, and in that possibility, he would be completely helpless, unless, of course, Catti-brie was watching from afar. He had to trust in that.

Because it had to be this way.

He heard the wide wooden door creak open and smelled the stagnant air of the little-used warehouse. Inside, the small group walked a maze of piled sacks and large boxes to the back corner of the building, where they started up a wooden half-staircase, half-ladder. Despite the blindfold, the nimble Drizzt had no trouble at all in navigating the maze and the climb, and as soon as he came up to the second story, a man roughly pulled off his blindfold.

The drow was quick to shake his head, flopping his hair back over one eye, his dark, see-through eyepatch still in place on the other.

The room was as he remembered it, with the raised wooden dais set in the center-back, a wooden seat built atop it. Thurgood sat in that throne, resting comfortably back and to the side, eyeing Drizzt with what seemed to be little real concern.

“Welcome, Masoj of Menzoberranzan,” he said as Drizzt was led to stand before him. The guards fell away then, moving to either side of the room, and Drizzt used that opportunity to take a good measure of all in attendance. He quick-counted seven, scallywags all, and none seeming overly impressive, other than perhaps Thurgood himself. Even that one didn’t concern Drizzt too much. Likely, he would prove the typical bully brawler, a straightforward attacker who would try to quickly overwhelm an opponent with brute force.

Drizzt had left many similar brawlers dead in his wake.

“You wish to join the crew,” Thurgood stated. “When will you be able to sail?”

“I have no ties and no responsibilities.”

“I could walk ye to the dock straightaways and ye’d be able to step aboard?”

Drizzt paused for a second, noting the change in dialect, Thurgood’s “you’s” becoming “ye’s.” Those around him seemed to take no note. Perhaps this one was more worldly than he was letting on? The drow filed that notion away, a quiet reminder to be ready for anything, and quickly pushed past the pause.

“The sooner I am away from this city, the better,” Drizzt replied. “There are many here who would wish me gone.”

“Found a bit o’ trouble, did ye?”

The drow shrugged as if it did not matter.

“Ye ever kill anyone, Masoj of Menzoberranzan?” Thurgood asked, and he leaned forward in his chair.

“More than anyone in this room,” Drizzt answered, and he doubted he was lying. “More than all of you together.”

Thurgood slumped back in his chair, eyeing the drow and smiling … weirdly, Drizzt thought. At the side of the room, several of the men bristled as if insulted, and the two who had taken Drizzt to this place cautiously approached.

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