Gauntlgrym (Neverwinter #1)(96)

Bruenor’s expression grew even more puzzled. He had never noted anything like humility from Athrogate before.

“I fought yer friend, ye know,” Athrogate said. “In Luskan.”

“Aye. And what’re ye sayin’? That this one, this Dahlia, would be beating Drizzt square up?”

Athrogate didn’t answer outright, but his expression showed that he believed exactly that, or at least, that he harbored serious doubts about the outcome of such a fight.

“Bah!” Bruenor snorted. “So ye’re afraid o’ her?”

“Bah!” Athrogate snorted right back. “I ain’t afraid o’ no one. Just, I’d be thinking Dahlia less a threat if she weren’t so damned nasty.”

“Good for knowin’,” Bruenor said, and he lowered his voice when he noted Jarlaxle and Dahlia fast approaching.

“We are not alone,” Jarlaxle announced when he neared. “Others are about, likely seeking the same cave as we.”

“Bah, but how’d they be knowin’ about it?” Bruenor asked.

“The Ashmadai at least are all over the Crags, I’d bet,” Dahlia replied. “Sylora knows the approximate location of Gauntlgrym.”

“We’re nowhere near the mountain,” Bruenor replied, somewhat harshly. “Going in from the far side …”

Dahlia’s eyes narrowed for a just a moment, and Bruenor recognized that he’d hit on something there, which was confirmed when Dahlia turned to Jarlaxle.

“Sylora suspected I would go after the primordial, now that we know it’s awakening,” the drow explained. “That is why she sent Dahlia and the others to Luskan—to confirm, and to stop us.”

“By now, she knows that failed,” Dahlia said. “Szass Tam’s minions are possessed of various magical means of communication.”

“And she’d think yerself dead,” Athrogate reasoned.

“No more,” Bruenor replied, and again his voice was thick with suspicion. “If they’re here, they’re watching us, and they’re watching Dahlia.”

The elf woman nodded, but didn’t appear pleased by that prospect. That only put a smirk on Bruenor’s face.

“So ye’re a traitor now, and to be punished if they’re catching ye,” the dwarf reasoned.

“It gives you pleasure to say that?” Dahlia asked.

“Or ye’re a double-traitor,” Bruenor said. “And maked us think ye’d maked them think yerself was killed to death in the fight.”

“No,” Jarlaxle said before Dahlia could.

“No?” Bruenor echoed. He dropped the pack he was holding and drew his axe from off his back, slapping it across his open palm.

“Ye don’t want to be doin’ that,” Athrogate warned, his voice more filled with concern than any threat.

“Listen to your hairy friend, dwarf,” Dahlia said, and she sent her walking stick in an easy swing, which brought it across her open palm so that she was holding it similarly to Bruenor with his axe.

Bruenor did relax at that, mostly because a dark form slipped silently out from around a tree behind Dahlia.

“Lady, ye can’t help but expect a bit o’ suspicion, now can ye?” Bruenor replied, and smiled disarmingly. “Ye come to us for a fight, and now we’re to think yerself on our side?”

“Had I joined the fight in the Cutlass, your mission would have ended there, good dwarf,” the elf warrior replied. “And you can tell that to your drow friend who is standing behind me.”

Behind Dahlia, Drizzt stood up straight, and in front of her, Bruenor’s face twisted up at her bravado.

“Telled ye,” Athrogate muttered at Bruenor’s side.

It occurred to Bruenor then just how young this elf female was. He hadn’t really thought of that before, since everything had been such a jolt and a rush from the moment he and Drizzt had entered Luskan. But she showed it. She stood before a dwarf king, and with a legendary drow warrior behind her, and not a hint of worry showed on her face.

Only someone quite young could feel so … immortal.

She had never experienced loss, was Bruenor’s initial thought, and couldn’t comprehend its possibility.

He studied her more carefully for a few moments, though, and saw through the calm confidence just enough to realize that he was probably way off the mark with that last thought. More likely, Dahlia had experienced loss, great loss, and didn’t care if that was again a possibility. Perhaps her bravado even invited it.

Bruenor glanced at Athrogate, thinking the other dwarf’s warning about Dahlia quite prescient at that moment.

She was dangerous.

“If you’re all so anxious for a fight, you’ll find one soon enough,” Jarlaxle remarked, obviously trying to break the tension.



Despite her outward confidence, Dahlia wondered if she’d played her hand correctly. She stared at the dwarf a few moments longer, trying to rid herself of the nagging notion that the crusty old warrior saw right through her.

She dismissed that concern out of hand. Dahlia had no time for that.

She turned to find Drizzt leaning easily against a tree, his weapons sheathed, his forearms resting on them with his hands crossed in front of him.

“Do you share your friend’s concern?” she asked.