R. A. Salvatore - The Dark Elf Trilogy 3 Sojourn (Dragonlance)

One look at the mountain mans jagged wound told Dove that the fine edged scimitar had not caused it, but the ranger conceded the point, seeing no gain in further argument.

And drow tracks, Roddy insisted. The boot prints match close to the ones by the blueberry patch, where we seen the drow!

Doves gaze led all eyes to the barn. Something powerful broke that door she reasoned. And the younger woman inside was not killed by any dark elf.

Roddy remained undaunted. Drows got a pet he insisted. Big, black panther. Damned big cat!

Dove remained suspicious. She had seen no prints to match a panthers paws, and the way that a portion of the woman had been devoured, bones and all, did not fit any knowledge that she had of great cats. She kept her thoughts to herself, though, realizing that the gruff mountain man wanted no mysteries clouding his already drawn conclusions.

Now, if yeve had enough of this place, lets get onto the trail Roddy boomed. My dogs got a scent, and the drows got a lead big enough already!

Dove flashed a concerned glance at the mayor, who turned away, embarrassed, under her penetrating gaze.

Roddy McGristles to go with you, Delmo explained, barely able to spit out the words, wishing that he had not made his emotionally inspired deal with Roddy. Seeing the cool headed ness of the woman ranger and her party, so drastically different from Roddys violent temper, the mayor now thought it better that Dove and her companions handle the situation in their own way. But a deal was a deal.

Hell be the only one from Maldobar joining your troupe, Delmo continued. He is a seasoned hunter and knows this area better than any.

Again Dove, to Frets disbelief, conceded the point.

The day is fast on the wane, Dove said. She added pointedly to McGristle, We go at first light.

Drows got too much of a lead already! Roddy protested. We should get after him now!

You assume that the drow is running, Dove replied, again calmly, but this time with a stern edge to her voice. How many dead men once assumed the same of enemies? This time, Roddy, perplexed, did not shout back. The drow, or drow band, could be holed up nearby. Would you like to come upon them unexpectedly, McGristle? Would it please you to battle dark elves in the dark of night?

Roddy just threw up his hands, growled, and stalked away, his dog close on his heels.

The mayor offered Dove and her troupe lodging at his own house, but the ranger and her companions preferred to remain behind at the Thistledown farm. Dove smiled as the farmers departed, and Roddy set up camp just a short distance away, obviously to keep an eye on her. She wondered just how much a stake McGristle had in all of this and suspected that there was more to it than revenge for a scarred face and a lost ear.

Are you really to let that beastly man come with us? Fret asked later on, as the dwarf, Dove, and Gabriel sat around the blazing fire in the farmyard. The elven archer and the other member of the troupe were out on perimeter guard.

It is their town, dear Fret, Dove explained. And I cannot refute McGristles knowledge of the region.

But he is so dirty, the dwarf grumbled. Dove and Gabriel exchanged smiles, and Fret, realizing that he would get nowhere with his argument, turned down his bedroll and slipped in, purposefully spinning away from the others.

Good old Quilldipper mumbled Gabriel, but he noted that Doves ensuing smile did little to diminish the sincere concern on her face.

Youve a problem, Lady Falconhand? he asked.

Dove shrugged. Some things do not fit properly in the order of things here, she began.

Twas no panther that killed the woman in the barn, Gabriel remarked, for he, too, had noted some discrepancies.

Nor did any drow kill the farmer, the one they named Bartholomew, in the kitchen, said Dove. The beam that broke his neck was nearly snapped itself. Only a giant possesses such strength.

Magic? Gabriel asked.

Again Dove shrugged. Drow magic is usually more subtle, according to our sage, she said, looking to Fret, who was already snoring quite loudly. And more complete. Fret does not believe that drow magic killed Bartholomew or the woman, or destroyed the barn door. And there is another mystery on the matter of the tracks.

Two sets, Gabriel said, and made nearly a day apart.

And of differing depths, added Dove. One set, the second, might indeed have been those of a dark elf, but the other, the set of the killer, went too deep for an elf s light steps.

An agent of the drow? Gabriel offered. Conjured denizen of the lower planes, perhaps? Might it be that the dark elf came down the next day to inspect its monsters work? This time, Gabriel joined Dove in her confused shrug.

So we shall learn, Dove said. Gabriel lit a pipe then, and Dove drifted off into slumber.

Oh master, my master, Tephanis crooned, seeing the grotesque form of the broken, half transformed barghest. The quickling didnt really care all that much for Ulgulu or the barghests brother, but their deaths left some severe implications for the sprites future path. Tephanis had joined Ulgulus group for mutual gain. Before the barghests came along, the little sprite had spent his days in solitude, stealing whenever he could from nearby villages. He had done all right for himself, but his life had been a lonely and unexciting existence.

Ulgulu had changed all of that. The barghest army offered protection and companionship, and Ulgulu, always scheming for new and more devious kills, had provided Tephanis with unending important missions.

Now the quickling had to walk away from it all, for Ulgulu was dead and Kempfana was dead, and nothing Tephanis could do would change those simple facts.

Lagerbottoms? the quickling asked himself suddenly. He thought that the hill giant, the only member missing from the lair, might prove a fine companion. Tephanis saw the giants tracks clearly enough, heading away from the cave area and out into the deeper mountains. He clapped his hands excitedly, perhaps a hundred times in the next second, then was off, speeding away to find a new friend.

Far up in the mountains, Drizzt DoUrden looked upon the lights of Maldobar for the last time. Since he had come down from the high peaks after his unpleasant encounter with the skunk, the drow had found a world of savagery nearly equal to the dark realm he had left behind. Whatever hopes Drizzt had realized in his days watching the farming family were lost to him now, buried under the weight of guilt and the awful images of carnage that he knew would haunt him forcver.

The drows physical pain had lessened a bit, he could draw his breath fully now, though the effort sorcly stung, and the cuts on his arms and legs had closed. He would survive.