Chapter Three: Strange Kind of Woman

"My sister Maydril left Menzoberranzan when I was still a student at Melee Magthere," Cierre told me. "I had been fond of her, more so than any of my other relatives save perhaps for my uncle Malaggar, but when I asked about her, I was hushed, and told never to mention her again. Then, when I was sent to the surface world to spy upon the surfacers, I was ordered to kill Maydril if I came across her. I asked why, and I was punished and told not to question but simply to obey."

"Why would they give such an order?" I wondered.

"Maydril must have left the worship of She whose name I will not speak," Viconia put in. "I suspect she was, as your foster-father told you, a worshipper of Eilistraee. My House would have placed a similar death order upon me had they not been themselves destroyed."

"That is my thought also, or perhaps that she was a Masked Traitor of Vhaeraun," said Cierre. "I pretended to agree but never had any intention of carrying out the order. After I changed my allegiance to another goddess, and rejected my mission of spying, my mother has ordered my death too. There have been attempts to carry out that order. Luckily I am hard to kill."

"You certainly appear proficient," I said. "Perhaps we could spar?"

"That would be acceptable, my niece," she replied. "I have no assignments at this time. Shall we do it now?"

We found a place where we were out of sight of the camp and I was soon sincerely glad of that. It was… embarrassing. She beat me with humiliating ease. We began by testing our strength against each other. I was a little stronger than her, due to the magical Manual I had read, but she was stronger than Minsc; as strong as Sarevok, or the half-orc warrior The Barghest I had fought at Boareskyr Bridge. And faster, and more skilled. Her style was like nothing I had ever faced, with an unusual proportion of upward strikes, and I was forced onto the defensive straight away. For a while I was able to parry her blows, or take them on my armor, but was never in position to riposte. On the few occasions I was able to launch an attack she deflected my blows with ease and counter-attacked. I held her off for a couple of minutes but eventually she hooked aside my sword with her axe and brought her sword up under my arm. She struck exactly where there was a gap in the plate, necessary to allow the joint to move, and could have severed my arm if it had been a real fight. I conceded at once.

"You are good," she said, somewhat to my surprise.

"No, you're good," I said. "Better than good. And I'm not as good as I thought I was."

"You made me work for it, niece," she said. "That is rare indeed. Usually I just kill people with my first or second blow. You are better than I was at your age." She smiled. "Of course, at your age I was at Arach-Tinilith studying to be a priestess. I did not receive training as a fighter until I was expelled from Arach-Tinilith. Luckily my uncle Malaggar was First Sword of Melee Magthere and arranged for me to be admitted, even though it was supposed to be only for males, and I did much better in that school. For my last four years there I was victor in the Grand Melee. I am trained in the styles of Draa Velve, Luth Alur, Orb Alur, and Z'ress A'thalak." She pouted. "Drizzt Do'Urden is more skilled than me at Draa Velve, and he was Grand Champion for seven years to my four. And we sparred once here, in the Night Above, and he beat me comprehensively. He is younger than me, too, although of course he must be twice your age at the least. I would guess you to be in your late twenties."

"That was Viconia's estimate," I said, "although, as my memory was erased, I have nothing else to go on."

"I will tutor you, as much as our duties permit," Cierre offered. "If I cannot outdo Drizzt myself, it would please me if my niece were to do so one day. You are unsuited to the style of Draa Velve, which is the style at which Drizzt is a master, but you should do well at Orb Alur and Z'ress A'thalak."

She explained that Draa Velve was the style of using two weapons, Orb Alur the art of fighting against multiple opponents, especially if surrounded, and Z'ress A'thalak was the art of overcoming opponents through sheer strength and power. Her other style, Luth Alur, was combat with ranged weapons. It was not one of my talents, and I was only passable with my crossbow, but Cierre told me that she was expert with her bow. Before long I would get a chance to see just how expert.

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I wasn't able to spend as much time with my newly-discovered aunt as I would have liked. I had duties, and so did she. Her primary role was much like that of my group; to scout ahead of the army and remove potential threats, such as predators and monsters, that might otherwise attack stragglers and messengers, and her secondary role was to patrol outside the camp and kill any Crusaders reconnoitering our defenses. I would have liked her to join with us but she, being a citizen of the Silver Marches, was under the command of Torsin de Lancie of the Lord's Alliance forces and he would not permit her to transfer. He had taken a dislike to me, and indeed he didn't seem to like Cierre much either, and that might have been the root cause of his refusal; on the other hand, it might have been a legitimate need for my aunt's services.

We did work together when I resumed training the recruits from Daggerford. Ilninil Cierre took the opportunity to give me some tuition, claiming that it was for the benefit of the watching recruits, and demonstrated some moves developed by the Drow for use against larger opponents. They would be particularly useful to the halfling member of the recruits, and I could see that I would be able to use them against ogres, giants, and tall men such as the late Sarevok. Even more useful was that she also taught me the counters. If I ever faced a Drow in deadly combat I would not be taken by surprise.

Apart from that instance she tutored me only when both of us were free, which did not happen often, but I still learned enough to significantly improve my swordplay skills. I told her what I had learnt about the fate of my mother and, in return, Cierre told me about my family in Menzoberranzan. Most of them sounded like truly horrible people, ruthless and cruel, especially her eldest sister Sil'zet and youngest sister Vadalma. Cierre remembered my mother Maydril with fondness, and was distressed to hear what I believed to have happened to her, and had got on reasonably well with another sister named Halyndra. The only other tolerable relative had been my great-uncle Malaggar, First Sword of Melee Magthere, who sounded like the kind of honorable warrior that I would like or, at least, respect. Cierre had come to the surface world only twelve years before and so what she could tell me about Menzoberranzan was much more current than what I had heard from Viconia and Drizzt. Baeloth probably had information even more up-to-date but I wouldn't trust anything I heard from that source.

Somewhat to my surprise I found that the deity to which Cierre had turned, after rejecting Lolth, was not Eilistraee, Vhaeraun, or Shar but was Auril, the Frostmaiden, Goddess of Winter. Auril was a deity of Evil but, as my spell had shown, Cierre was not herself evil and probably counted as more or less Good. She just had a great affinity for snow and ice and, as she told me, she didn't enjoy being this far south and would be returning to her northern haunts as soon as this expedition was over. I contemplated going with her but it would depend upon what my companions wanted to do. Viconia would come with me wherever I went, I was sure, but Imoen might want to stay in Baldur's Gate to pursue her studies in magic. Safana, who came from the warm lands of Calimshan, was unlikely to want to travel to the cold North. Voghiln was from Luskan, as far north as Cierre's usual haunts in the Silver Marches, and I believed he'd be happy to go back north, but I wasn't as close to him as to the others. I would put off making any decision until after we had defeated the Crusade.

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My group spent some time scouting out areas in the vicinity that might hold potential threats. In the process we fought undead, orogs, wild animals, giants, and even a couple of monsters that none of us recognized. We were successful in obtaining the plants Viconia needed to cure the soldiers suffering from a magic-resistant fever, and in finding a few other things various people in the camp had asked us to look out for, and acquired a few useful magical items.

As we returned from one of our expeditions we ran into an ambush, seemingly specifically aimed at us, in a zone of dead magic that neutralized the powers of our spellcasters. We went into high alert as soon as we entered the zone, of course, and spotted a bunch of mercenary types lurking ahead. They charged at us and it struck me that they'd been a little too obvious. If our group had behaved like that it would be because Safana was sneaking up on the opposition from behind…

I whirled and delivered one of the Orb Alur strokes that Cierre had taught me, one designed to deal with a concealed attacker, even though I saw nothing. My sword struck something, or more accurately someone, invisible. My hunch had been correct. I had struck with all my might, and pulled back to convert the swing into a cut as soon as the World's Edge made contact, and the enchanted blade must have bitten deep. Blood spurted out of nowhere. A lot of blood.

The attacker was obviously seriously injured but I wasn't going to rely on that. A powerful enough potion could have him, or her, back in action in seconds. I repeated the stroke, in the other direction, with all the speed and power I could summon up. The gushing blood gave me a target and I aimed slightly above the point of origin. I connected again, and more accurately than I could have hoped. A human head suddenly appeared and fell to the ground. The body to which it had been attached became visible a second later and toppled to lie beside it. That was conclusive proof that the attacker was no longer a threat but, in case he hadn't been alone, I continued to sweep the area with my blade in a defensive pattern. I left it to my colleagues to deal with the rest of the attackers.

They did, without much difficulty, and we went into our usual routine of searching the bodies. The ordinary mercenaries didn't have much of value, other than a reasonable amount of coin, but the one who'd come at us from behind was more interesting. He had been wearing thrice-enchanted Shadow Armor, now needing substantial repair before it would be saleable, and wielding a short-sword enchanted to drain the strength of anyone it pierced and add to the strength of the holder. More interesting still was a letter in his possession.

T'rissae's travels provide an opportunity to carry out one of the tests I had in mind, it read. Hire a band of mercenaries and pit them against her. Your hirelings will likely perish in the attempt but you seem to have an uncanny ability to cheat death. Not any more, I thought. Assess the Bhaalspawn's strengths and weaknesses carefully and send your report in care of my contact in Athkatla. Do not disappoint me again, my shadowed minion. You know the price of failure.

Athkatla? That was where Korlasz had been instructed to send Sarevok's sword, and where the vampire we had slain near Coastway Crossing had been ordered to go. The only person I could think of who might be interested in having 'tests' of me carried out was the hooded man. I had already begun to suspect that he might be the one who had arranged for Korlasz to acquire the sword, and his encounters with me had shown that he had a strong interest in my Bhaal heritage, and now it seemed that he was taking his inquisitiveness to another level. Well, he would learn nothing from this attack. Dead men tell no tales… unless… necromancy, and Speak With Dead spells…

We burnt the bodies until there was nothing left of them and buried the ashes.

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The army commanders wanted us to carry out a reconnaissance mission to Dragonspear Castle itself. Not just of the surroundings, but of the caverns below the castle and, if possible, even of the camp just outside the city gates. I didn't see how this would be feasible but my exploits against Sarevok, and on the march here, seemed to have made them believe that I could do the impossible. Torsin de Lancie made it even more impossible by ordering me to sneak into the basement of the castle and poison the supplies of food and water stored there.

I flatly refused. Many of those who had joined the Crusade were genuine believers in the righteousness of the cause. To poison them would be murder. Even when de Lancie claimed that the toxin would not kill, but would only cause fear, I did not change my mind. The idea seemed not only dishonorable but pointless; if the defenders ate the poisoned food, or drank the poisoned water, too long before our attack they would recover, and those not affected would be alerted to the danger. Torsin de Lancie was incensed at my refusal, and blustered and threatened, but I was adamant. General Haither Stonehand, the dwarf who commanded the small Daggerford contingent, took my part. Indeed, my refusal to use the poison had raised me in her estimation and she supported me strongly. That swayed Marshal Nederlok over to my side and de Lancie was forced to concede and abandon his plan.

Of course, he immediately came up with another one. I was to place an explosive charge at a particular point within the caverns. This would, he claimed, set off an earth tremor than would bring down the castle's gate. He expected me to wander through caverns no doubt crawling with crusaders, find a specific point, and deposit a barrel of explosives; all without getting killed. As my likeness had been printed on the parchments that the assassins at the Ducal Palace had carried, and I was widely enough known for the Crusade guards at the Coast Way Crossing bridge to have recognized me on sight, the only way I would be able to achieve the objective would be by killing everyone who crossed my path.

Unless…

When I'd attended Sarevok's inauguration, disguised as a Surface Elf, I had relied upon little being known about me other than that I was a Drow. Face paints and hair dye had been sufficient to obscure my identity for a short time but they wouldn't work for a long mission. But what if, instead of trying to hide my Drow-ness, I embraced it? There was something Cierre had said…

"I'll do it," I said, "but I'll need Cierre."

"The Drow scout?" de Lancie said. "Impossible. I have already allocated tasks to her."

"Now, wait a minute, de Lancie," General Stonehand said. "Cierre Tlabbar came with us from Daggerford. She's one of mine, not yours, and I think she's wasted on what you're having her do. Captain Corwin could handle it, if Nederlok can spare her, or that half-elf druid who isn't doing much." He meant Jaheira, I was fairly sure, and I might not like Jaheira much but I had to admit that she was competent. De Lancie grumbled but gave in. I set off to find Cierre and the other person I would need for my plan; Baeloth.

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"A word to the wise, T'rissae," Baeloth said. "Your heinous habit of defending the desperate and downtrodden does not do it for this drow. This demented determination of yours to be a hero? I don't share it at all. I am participating only for the promise of pecuniary profits and plunder."

"You'll be well paid," I assured him. "If it makes you feel better, think of what we're doing as a play. We're all acting parts. I'm going to be playing the role of a cold-hearted bounty hunter. Safana will be playing the part of a drow." She was covering her face in black greasepaint, as used by thieves in some night operations, to darken her skin. Her red hair would be unusual in a drow, but not unknown, and anyway it would be hidden by the hood that was part of her Shadow Thief armor. "Viconia… well, she'll pretty much be herself, only of House Faen Tlabbar instead of House DeVir."

"And this enchanting lady?" Baeloth asked, looking at Cierre.

"I kill people, male," Cierre said. "That will not change."

"Meet my aunt Cierre Tlabbar," I told Baeloth. "A word to the wise, Baeloth. Don't annoy her."

Minsc was pouting, an expression that looked very odd on his big face. "It does not seem right, Minsc and Boo and Dynaheir lagging behind as a reserve," he said. "Minsc should be at the front, wielding his sword alongside T'rissae."

"Your association with me is simply too well known, Minsc my abbil," I explained, "and where you are, they would expect me, and look sharply enough to see through my flimsy disguise."

"I could be disguised," Minsc said. "My face could be painted, like Safana's, to make me into a drow."

I shook my head. "You're much too big, Minsc," I explained. "I'm very tall for a drow. Cierre is the tallest drow there is, as far as I know."

"Qilué Veladorn is taller, or so I have heard," Cierre put in, "although still several inches shorter than Minsc."

"So, Minsc, it would be impossible for you to pass as a drow," I went on. "We could disguise Dynaheir, if we bleached her hair, but you wouldn't want to be separated from her, would you? She must stay back too."

"Minsc will do as you say," he agreed, "but it is hard."

Safana sniggered. A second later Cierre, whose face had displayed little expression thus far in our acquaintanceship, broke into a broad grin and she, too, sniggered. "Perhaps I could do something about that," Cierre said, but in Ilythiirra, which Minsc did not speak. Viconia did, of course, and there was a third snigger. If Imoen had been with us, and if her attempts to learn our language had progressed sufficiently, no doubt there would have been a fourth.

"You will have to control yourselves better once we reach the environs of Dragonspear Castle," I said. "From what I know of Drow society, such crude humor would not be in character."

"It would be permissible, as long as it was at the expense of males," Viconia said. "But you are correct that a cold, impassive, demeanor would be more fitting in the presence of the rivvin."

I went back to the original topic. "Obviously Voghiln will have to stay back with the reserve group, too," I said. "There is no way he could pass as a drow."

"Ja, I would have to part with mine beard," Voghiln agreed.

"And with six inches of height, and more than that of girth," I added, as he was some six feet tall and far too solidly built for any drow.

"True," said Voghiln. "I will stay with the beautiful Dynaheir and mine friend Minsc."

"Right, now let us sort out our equipment for this mission," I said. "We must bear the insignia of House Faen Tlabbar, and I'll put aside my plate armor and, in its place, I'll wear the Commander's Mail that General Stonehand gave me. No-one has seen me wearing it and it will help obscure my identity, as well as enhancing my persuasiveness. Viconia, I think you should wear the Plate of the Dark that belonged to Tamoko instead of your Ankheg plate. Cierre, you take the armor of Green Dragon leather. If any Crusaders have seen you with the army it will have been in your studded leathers."

"I do not believe any have seen me and lived," Cierre said, "but there is no point in taking the chance. And the dragon armor will be superior to my existing set, even more so if I pair it with a Ring or Amulet of Protection."

"We have spare rings," I said, "and there is an amulet specifically intended for archers that you may find useful."

"Usstan bel'la dos, ussta ilaovil," Cierre thanked me, dipping her head in acknowledgement, as I handed her the Archer's Eyes amulet and a twice-enchanted Ring of Protection.

"She said 'I thank you, my niece'," I told Safana, who had picked up some common Ilythiirra phrases but did not have a wide vocabulary. "As a close relative she can address me that way. Everyone else must call me Jabbress."

"Ah, back to being bossed about by beautiful but brutally brawny and brazen females," Baeloth remarked. "It will be just like home. Although, hopefully, without the tentacle rods."

"Something along those lines could be arranged, male," Viconia said, "if you are not properly respectful."

"Ooh, tough crowd," Baeloth said, but he seemed to take note of the warning.

There were a few items I needed to help make my ruse convincing. The quartermaster was able to direct me to a smith who doubled as a jeweler and I commissioned him to forge sets of House Tlabbar insignia for us. Cierre was able to draw the barred double claw designs well enough to serve as a pattern. As raw material I provided the golden bust, allegedly of me, that Ophyllis the treasurer had given me at Coast Way Crossing. I didn't care about it and this way it could actually serve a useful purpose. We sorted out the equipment we would use in the mission as we waited for the jeweler to complete his work, although we would not actually don our alternate garb until after we had left the camp, and then we were interrupted by a messenger arriving.

An officer named Bence Duncan, to whom I had spoken a few times during our march, approached at a fast walk. "Lady Terissay," he called, as he drew near, "I must speak with you."

"Go ahead," I said.

"It's Skie Silvershield," he said. "She must have overheard the commanders asking you to reconnoiter Dragonspear Castle and she's decided to do it herself. She sneaked out half an hour ago and headed off alone."

I groaned. "Typical of her," I said. "I suppose we'd better go and retrieve her. Hopefully it won't interfere with our mission too much." I turned back to the jeweler. "How much longer?"

"Ten minutes more before I can start trimming off flash and polishing, ma'am," he said. "Maybe half an hour until they're all finished."

"We'll wait," I decided. "She'll have an hour's start, but we'll travel faster, and she won't be too far ahead of us when we get to Dragonspear. She won't have time to get into too much trouble."

I really must learn to stop saying things like that.

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We found Skie outside the castle walls but she was a little tied up at the time. Literally. Six Crusaders were binding her arms with ropes. It looked as if she would be reasonably well-treated, as a prisoner, and I was tempted to just leave her in their hands. Not that I really could, of course; even if I ignored the trouble it would cause with the officers of the army, and the possibility of Caelar Argent using the captive girl as a hostage and forcing concessions from our forces, it would be Wrong.

The problem with intervening was that freeing Skie would be out of character for the parts I had planned for us to play. The Crusader patrol would have to be silenced, either by killing them all or by taking them prisoner and sending them off to the Coalition camp. I gave them the opportunity to surrender. They didn't take it.

The last one alive grabbed Skie and held her as a shield with a sword to her throat. He threatened to kill her unless we backed off and let him go. Before I could say anything in reply his right eye suddenly sprouted feathers. The sword fell from his limp hand as he toppled. Two feet of arrow shaft was sticking out of the back of his head.

"Nice shot," I commented to Cierre.

"It was only thirty paces, ussta ilaovil," she said. "Save your praise for when I do it at three hundred."

Skie, once unbound, was effusive with her thanks but didn't recognize that she'd behaved idiotically. She even expected that she'd be able to join us in our infiltration of the Crusader camp.

"You're not a Drow," I pointed out. "My whole plan is based on us passing as a Drow expedition joining the Crusade in order to be able to kill rivvin without consequences."

"To kill what?" Skie asked. "And Minsc doesn't look anything like a Drow."

"That's my point," I said. "There is no way you could pass as a Drow even if we managed to disguise your appearance. Minsc, and Dynaheir and Voghiln, aren't coming with us anyway. They can take you back to the Coalition camp."

And, despite Skie's objections, that was what they did. We arranged a place where the three humans would meet up with us, after they had delivered Skie, and the rest of us approached the Crusader encampment. We walked openly up to the guards.

"Halt! Friend or foe?"

"That remains to be seen, rivvil," I answered. "We have seen pamphlets offering rewards to those who join you. We found some of your people imprisoned in an ancient temple, and freed them from captivity, and a hargluk amongst them promised that we would be rewarded at their camp at Bridgefort. When we went there, we found that it had been overrun by foes and there was no reward to be had. Perhaps this camp can provide an alternative. But first, I must know if there is another Drow here, by the name of Maydril Tlabbar."

"Never heard of him," said the guard. "There ain't any dark elves in this outfit, anyway. Why'd you want to know?"

"I have sought her for months," I said. "The Matron Mother has ordered her death." Both perfectly true statements, but designed to be misinterpreted. "I obtained information that she might be at the old temple." Another true but misleading statement, as the 'information' was something I had worked out afterwards, on the basis of the temple layout seeming oddly familiar, added to what the blind priestess Madele had told me about the planned sacrifice of the Children, including me, and the attack by the Harpers. "There was no sign of her there; only mad cultists, whom we slew, and the prisoners, whom we freed. We had no other leads and so, after spending some more time searching with no result, we went to Bridgefort but found the camp there sacked and deserted. And now we are here. Are you willing to hire us, or not?"

"It ain't up to me," said the guard. "Wait while I get an officer."

The officer, when he arrived, repeated the guard's questions and I repeated everything that I had told the gate guard. Viconia and Cierre, behind me, exchanged remarks about the stupidity of the rivvin. It was unlikely that either guard or officer spoke Ilythiirra but, if they did, the conversation between my abbil and my aunt would fit in perfectly with the roles we were playing. Then the officer asked a new question.

"How did you get past our patrol?"

I raised my eyebrows. "The six brigands who accosted us near the castle walls? They were one of your patrols? In that case you are even more in need of our services than I thought."

"What do you mean? Did you fight them?"

"They attacked us," I said. "I guessed that they might be part of your forces, and offered them the chance to surrender, but they were waelin – fools. Now they are dead fools."

"Oh," said the officer. "I… well, I suppose you've at least proved your worth. You might as well come in. It will be quite a while before you can get to see the Shining Lady, but I'm sure we can find things for you to do in the meantime."

And we were in. I gave my name as Vierdril, which means 'Black Knight', Viconia called herself Zarala, meaning 'Shadow Priestess', Cierre went by the name Sabalafay, meaning 'Amber Eyes', and as Safana didn't speak enough Ilythiirra to come up with a name for herself Viconia had dubbed her 'Waerdia', meaning 'Southern Thief'. It was unlikely that there would be anyone in the Crusader camp who spoke Ilythiirra, or who was familiar with Drow naming conventions, but I like to be thorough. And the names would be easy for us to remember; in fact, I made a mental note of them in case we ever needed to perform some similar impersonation in the future.

Inside the camp the soldiers, seeing us as new recruits and thus of low status, sought to palm off on us various menial tasks. We, as proud Drow, refused most of them and performed only those tasks which I felt would further our objective of intelligence-gathering. It didn't make us popular but that wasn't something that bothered me at all.

Something that did bother me was a task that I did accept. An officer called Leopas asked me, as a disinterested party, to help them resolve a dispute. I agreed but then found it was not a trivial matter but a trial for a death penalty offence. An archer, named Corinth, was accused of betraying the Crusade by warning a village that they were approaching. The villagers had packed up and departed thus depriving the Crusade of the chance to requisition supplies and perhaps gain some recruits. Or, as stories I'd heard from some of the refugees put it, to loot, pillage, and kill anyone who resisted.

I had agreed, and couldn't really back out, and so I conducted an investigation. I questioned Corinth's colleagues, learned some of the background, and came to two conclusions. One, that the only actual evidence against Corinth was that his family lived in the village in question, and two, that Valis, the half-elven ranger who had accused him, was a nasty piece of work whose accusation was motivated more by spite, and jealousy because he was a better archer than her and owned a better bow, rather than any genuine conviction that he was guilty. I was inclining toward declaring Corinth innocent until I questioned the man himself and his answers were unconvincing. I pressed him further and he admitted that he had, indeed, warned the village of the approaching Crusade.

That put me in a moral dilemma. He was guilty of the offence of which he was charged but his motives were good. His betrayal of his comrades, Evil, probably had saved innocent lives and prevented the Crusade from gaining resources, Good. On the other hand, he was a skilled archer and, if he fought for the Crusade against the Lords' Alliance, he might well kill soldiers on my own side. Even, perhaps, my own companions. Reluctantly, I decided that revealing his guilt to his officer was the Right Thing To Do. I tried to mitigate things by remarking, in my character as a heartless Drow, that I was pleased to see that the rivvin were not showing weakness by being merciful. I had hoped this would shame Leopas into decreeing some lesser punishment than death but, to my dismay, he took it at face value and declared that the punishment would be execution.

And then things became even more complicated. Corinth demanded trial by combat. Leopas at first refused, saying "You've been found guilty. That's all the trial you deserve." Rather to my surprise Valis, the original accuser, spoke up and said "Let him have his trial by combat. As long as it's with swords, that is." I guessed that she wanted to kill him herself, reinforcing my opinion of her as a nasty piece of work, but I could hardly interfere whilst staying in character. My aunt, however, had no such inhibitions.

"The tu'rilthiir jalil is a dishonorable coward," she remarked. "Let the accused have a fair fight against another archer. Me."

Valis angrily demanded to know if Cierre was talking about her, Cierre confirmed it in biting terms, and Valis challenged her to a duel with swords. At the same time Leopas was talking about the trial by archery combat scenario and Baeloth was trying to organize betting on the combats. When it all settled down it had been arranged that Cierre and Corinth were to duel with arrows at fifty paces. If Corinth won, he would be given ten lashes instead of execution. If he lost… he'd be dead and Cierre would then fight Valis with swords. And Baeloth, who was offering ten to one against Corinth, had taken several hundred Lions in bets.

I wasn't overly happy about the way things were turning out but couldn't see a way to veto it. I had no idea of how skilled Corinth would be, and I had only seen Cierre use her bow once, but I had to assume that she knew her own capabilities. We went out of the camp, Leopas paced out fifty paces of separation, and the two archers took their places. They stood with bows undrawn as Leopas counted down from five. He shouted "Draw and loose!" and Cierre killed Corinth.

Actually, it wasn't quite that quick and straightforward. Her arrow took him in the middle of the body with his own bow half-drawn. He released the bowstring, the arrow flew wild and hit the ground half-way between them, and he fell to his knees. He struggled to his feet, managed to draw another arrow from his quiver, and then Cierre's second arrow, aimed with less haste and more precision, hit him in the throat. Corinth fell and this time did not move again.

"So… fast," one of the watching soldiers breathed, sounding awed.

"And bets on the lady Sabalafay pay out," Baeloth said. "Oh, there aren't any? What a pity. I get to keep all the stakes. Now, who wants to wager on the next combat, between the divinely deadly Drow and the direly doomed damsel? I'll offer twelve to one, this time. What, no takers? Very well, fifteen to one, and that's the best I can do."

Even at fifteen to one the Crusaders seemed to have lost their enthusiasm for betting. Only a couple of them placed small wagers on Valis. A big half-orc, who carried two battle-axes, bet on Cierre, much to the annoyance of Valis.

"If you lot would stop thinking of your purses," she said, "we can get this over with. I want that Dhaerow bitch's dragon-scale armor."

"In that case I will take the bow of the man I slew," Cierre said. "It looks to be of good quality."

"It'll be mine in a few minutes," Valis said. She drew her scimitar and walked toward Cierre. "We agreed to fight with swords," she said, as Cierre's hands went to her sword and axe. "No axes."

"A dishonorable coward, as I said," Cierre said, with a sneer. She drew her sword. "I understand that the rivvin expression is 'On guard'."

"On guard," Valis answered, and moved to attack.

And, of course, Cierre killed her. Three strokes, which I recognized as coming from the Z'ress A'thalak system that she had shown me, the first two sweeping aside the opponent's defenses and leaving her helpless to resist the killing blow. It took off her head. Cierre cleaned her sword on Valis' tunic, picked up the fallen scimitar, and examined it.

"Enchanted, I think," she said, in Ilythiirra. "Identify it for me, Baeloth." She went over to the body of Corinth and retrieved his bow and quiver. "Basic enchanted arrows," she observed. "Useful. And this bow looks nice." She tested its draw. "Very similar to mine," she said, "and it, too, is enchanted." She passed it, and the scimitar, to Baeloth as soon as he had finished paying the half-orc his meagre winnings.

"Only one degree of enchantment on the scimitar," Baeloth reported, using the Common Tongue. "Perhaps it might be of use to Waerdia."

"Mine's twice-enchanted," Safana said, "and that looks heavier than my spare. Sell it."

"The bow, on the other hand, is exceptionally excellent," Baeloth continued. "Twice enchanted, with an additional protective enchantment enhancing those of armor and rings, and another bestowing a Luck spell on the worthy wielder should she succeed in scoring a superb strike upon some luckless victim."

"Impressive," Cierre said. "Mine is twice-enchanted, and has the same draw weight as this, but lacks the other benefits. I shall make good use of the new bow. This has been a profitable interlude."

I had to agree but I still rather regretted that it had taken place. I hadn't handled things well, I had to admit, and I had failed to keep my party under control. Mainly, I thought, this was because I didn't feel comfortable giving orders to Cierre. She was my aunt, over a hundred years older than me, and my superior in combat; it would have been too much like giving orders to Gorion.

Leopas tried to order us to act as a burial detail. I treated the order with all the contempt I felt would be appropriate from a Drow noble. "Menial tasks are for the lesser breeds," I said, and led my party back to the camp.

We had, by this time, accomplished about as much of our objectives as I thought feasible. We had picked up useful information in conversations with Crusaders, Safana had pilfered a map showing Crusader troop dispositions, while its owners were distracted by the duels, and we had acquired Crusader tokens and seals that should enable us to pass through most of the Crusader areas unhindered. The longer we stayed the more chance there was of something going wrong. Eventually Caelar Argent would come out into the castle courtyard and she was one person who would be likely to recognize me on sight. We needed to leave, ideally in a way that would gain us access to the Crusader stronghold beneath the castle, and I had a plan that I believed would achieve just that.

The sun was high in the sky by now and I began to complain about the sunlight to anyone who would listen. Viconia, Cierre, and Baeloth needed little prompting to get them to do the same and Safana, who was used to Viconia's attitude but had never seen me behaving the same way, joined in once she realized that I had an ulterior motive for my moaning.

It didn't take long for this to take effect, especially after an uncouth soldier made advances to Cierre. Had they merely been verbal it might have passed without incident but he was idiotic enough to try to fondle her backside. She reacted by twisting the offending arm out of its socket. As the injured man was taken off to the clerics for healing an officer, Deneld, told me that he wanted my trouble-makers out of the camp before we killed or maimed anyone else.

"Go and annoy the garrison of the underground levels," he said. "That will get you out of the sun – and out of my hair." He provided us with directions to the caves that led to the labyrinth under the castle, and papers that would gain us admission, and sent us on our way.

We headed for the place pre-arranged for our rendezvous with Minsc, Dynaheir, and Voghiln. They had not yet returned from the Coalition camp but arrived before we had been waiting for long. Together we traveled to the vicinity of the entrance to the underground warrens, found a place where the humans could wait in reasonable security, and the Drow section of our party (plus, of course, Safana the fake Drow) headed for the caves. Our entry, I thought, should be relatively straightforward.

It wasn't.

Glossary of Drow Phrases

Ilninil = Aunt

Jabbress = Female Leader

darthiir/darthiiren = surface elf/elves

rivvil/rivvin = human/humans

waelin = fools, idiots

Dalninil = Sister

ussta ilaovil = my niece

tu'rilthiir jalil = half-elf woman

Dhaerow = surface elf name for the Drow