Neverwinter: The Legend of Drizzt by R.A. Salvatore

Author:R.A. Salvatore [Salvatore, R.A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780786959396
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2011-10-04T00:00:00+00:00

With Andahar keeping a swift pace, Drizzt and Dahlia passed Port Llast the very next night, giving the town a wide berth for fear that some of Kurth’s agents might be among the visitors. Not far down the road from there, Drizzt realized that they were not alone.

“In the tree to the left,” Dahlia whispered back when he informed her.

Drizzt pulled Andahar up to a halt and turned the steed sidelong to the road, his eyes focusing on that inhabited tree.

“Must I shoot you from your perch before you admit your presence?” Drizzt called out, bringing Taulmaril across his lap.

“Please, not that, good sir Drizzt,” came the reply from within the shelter of the boughs—the fast-browning boughs, for the summer season was beginning its turn to fall.

“Stuyles’s man,” Dahlia remarked, and Drizzt nodded.

“Would you break bread with us again?” the drow called out. “Entertain us with tales of the north while we repay the bards’ debt?”

“We should just ride past them,” Dahlia said. “Or do you feel the need to tell them of the farmer woman and the brewer?”

“Perhaps many would be interested, including Stuyles.”

“To what end?” Dahlia asked. “Do you hope that they will lay down their knives and swords and return to the plow? Will Drizzt Do’Urden fix the world?”

Ahead of them, the would-be highwayman dropped down from the tree’s lowest branch and waved them on, and Drizzt, not bothering to answer Dahlia, spurred Andahar forward. Dahlia kept her sour expression all the way to the bandits’ encampment.

They were greeted warmly, and offered food and a seat by a warm fire. Stuyles was there, and prodded Drizzt for his latest tales, and the drow obliged by telling him of their meetings with Meg the farmer woman and Ben the Brewer.

They all laughed when Drizzt recounted Dahlia’s defense of her foot at the expense of poor Ben, and indeed, many here knew the man.

Even Dahlia couldn’t resist a bit of a grin.

One by one, the bandits drifted away to their respective cots, until only the tall bandit named Hadencourt remained. “Now you go to Neverwinter Wood to repay Lady Sylora?” Hadencourt asked.

Dahlia, half asleep by that point, perked up immediately and stared at the man.

“We hear much,” Hadencourt explained. “And surely the tale of Dahlia Sin’felle is one of note, as were her two journeys to Gauntlgrym.”

The matter-of-fact manner in which he spoke made Drizzt uneasy. He looked to Dahlia, who seemed on the verge of throttling the man.

“Pray tell us what you’ve heard, good Hadencourt,” Drizzt prompted.

“More than any of the others here, of course,” said the man. “But then, I knew much more about the situation long before I met up with Farmer Stuyles and his band of misguided heroes.”

Dahlia and Drizzt exchanged suspicious looks.

“I’m not a former farmer,” Hadencourt flatly declared. “Nor a peasant, nor a commoner, nor a true member of this ridiculous band, in any manner they would accept.”

“Do tell,” said Dahlia.

Hadencourt stood up—Drizzt and Dahlia were quick to do likewise. “I’d prefer to show you,” Hadencourt said, and started off into the dark night.

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