"Perhaps Gareth will hire you to instruct the monk," Entreri said.

Jarlaxle hesitated for a moment before responding, "He could do worse."

Six riders and Master Kane came forward from the line. The monk walked in front of Gareth, who was centered by Celedon Kierney and Olwen Forest-friend. Directly behind Gareth rode Riordan Parnell, the bard, strumming a lute and singing. Flanking the bard were Dugald and Emelyn, both quietly spellcasting, building defensive walls.

The group closed half the distance to Castle D'aerthe then stopped, and Riordan came out around his king and galloped the short expanse to pull up before the great gates. He noted Jarlaxle and Entreri and trotted his mount off to the side, to sit directly below them.

"Master Jarlaxle and Artemis Entreri, Apprentice Knight of the Order" he began.

"King Artemis," Jarlaxle corrected, loudly enough so that Gareth and his friends heard, and bristled—which brought a smile to the drow's face.

"Good subjects—" Riordan began again.

"We are not."

The bard stared hard at the obstinate drow. "You pair of fools, then," he said. "King Gareth Dragonsbane, he who defeated Zhengyi, who cast the Wand of Orcus across the planes of existence, who—"

"Spare us," Jarlaxle interrupted. "It is cold, and we have heard this litany before—in Gareth's own court, and not so long ago."

"Then your folly should be obvious to you."

"Someday I will tell you my own litany of deeds, good bard," Jarlaxle called down. "Then indeed will your friends label you as long-winded."

"King Gareth demands audience," Riordan called out. "If you refuse, then war is upon you." He looked to the east, and motioned with his right arm. Following that, the pair saw a light cavalry force flanking Castle D'aerthe, and a light infantry taking up defensive positions in its wake.

Riordan then motioned west, and the pair saw a similar scene unfolding in that direction.

"To grant audience or to accept a siege," Riordan said. "The choice seems quite obvious."

"Why would we not grant free and friendly passage to King Gareth of Damara," Jarlaxle asked him, "our sister kingdom, after all, and no enemy to the throne of Artemis? You need not come to us so formally, and with threats. King Gareth is ever allowed free and welcomed passage through our lands—though if he intends to be accompanied by so large a contingent, who will tramp down our flora and fauna, I do fear that I might have to impose a toll."

"A toll?"

"For smoothing the bog after your passage, of course. Simple upkeep."

Riordan sat perfectly still for a long while, clearly not amused. "Will you grant the audience?"

"Of cour—" Jarlaxle started to answer, but Entreri grasped his shoulder and shifted in front.

"Tell King Gareth that we do not enjoy the spectacle of an army at our doorstep unannounced," Entreri called down to Riordan, and again loud enough for Gareth, and perhaps even some of those in the ranks of the main force, to hear. Keeping his tone polite, and his voice loud, he continued, "But even so, Gareth may enter my home. We have many tall towers here, as you can see. Please tell Gareth, from me, that he is most welcomed to dive headlong off of any of them."

Riordan sat a moment, as if digesting the words. He even glanced at one of the towers. "You are besieged!" he declared. "Know that war has come to your door!" He expertly turned his mount and galloped it back to his group, who were already turning for the main force.

"That wasn't the wisest thing you've ever done," Jarlaxle remarked to his friend.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" Entreri replied. "War with King Gareth?"

"Hardly."

Entreri's face screwed up with doubt. "You thought to parlay our good deeds to an independent kingdom for Jarlaxle?"

"For King Artemis," the dark elf corrected.

"You believe that Gareth would allow a drow to rule a kingdom within that which he now calls his own kingdom?" Entreri went on, disregarding the correction. "You are a bigger fool than I once thought you—and on that previous occasion, you had the excuse of the lure of Crenshinibon. What is your excuse now beyond abject stupidity?"

Jarlaxle eyed him for a long while, his thin drow lips curling into a smile. He half-turned and looked to the courtyard below, then lifted his hand and clenched his fist.

The drivers snapped into action, cracking their whips and setting the fodder into a frenzy. A great crank creaked, chain rattling in protest, and the massive portcullis that blocked Castle D'aerthe's main gate lifted.

"I was shown two roads," Jarlaxle explained to Entreri. "One would lead me to operate in the shadows, much as I have always done. To find my niche here in the Bloodstone Lands in comfort behind the powers that be—perhaps to serve the Citadel of Assassins, though in a sense far removed from that which Knellict envisioned. Perhaps I would then convince Kimmuriel that this land was worth his efforts, and he and I would lead Bregan D'aerthe to grab at absolute leadership in the underworld of the Bloodstone Lands, similar to what we achieved back in Calimport for a short while, and certainly as we have created in the darkness of Menzoberranzan for nearly two centuries." He ended with a laugh, as he finished with, "It would be worth the effort, perhaps, merely to see Knellict beg for his eternal soul."

Jarlaxle stopped and stood staring at his friend. Beneath them, the gates of the castle swung open and the three hundred goblins and kobolds, the unfortunate shock troops who had only death and pain behind them and a waiting army before them, flooded out onto the field in full charge.

"And the other road?" Entreri finally, and impatiently, prompted.

"The one we have walked," Jarlaxle explained. "Autonomy. The Kingdom of D'aerthe, presented to King Gareth and the other powers of the Bloodstone Lands, aboveboard and with all legitimacy. A sister and allied kingdom to Damara's north, living in harmony with Damara, and with Palishchuk."

"They would accept a kingdom of drow?" Entreri made no effort to keep the incredulity out of his voice, which elicited a smirk from Jarlaxle.

"It was worth a try, as I found the other option… boring. Would you disagree?"

"You wanted it, not I."

Jarlaxle looked at him as if wounded.

"You led our adventures here," Entreri said. "You put us in the service of a pair of dragon sisters, and tricked me to Vaasa, knowing well, all the while, the destination of this road we walk and the inevitable ending."

"I could not have known that such an opportunity as Urshula would present itself so readily," Jarlaxle argued, but he stopped short and threw up his hands in defeat. "As you will," he said. "In any event, our time here is at its end."

"Beware the ruse!" Friar Dugald and his clerics shouted out the length of the line, using magic to enhance their shouts.

Before the heavy priest, King Gareth and the others coordinated the response to the monstrous charge. Left and right, great longbows bent back and volleys of arrows flew at the goblins and kobolds, the shots spaced properly so that a falling, dying target would not intercept a second arrow.

Emelyn the Gray and his wizards held back as the monstrous ranks thinned under the rain of arrows. "Minor spells only!" the archmage instructed his forces. "Keep your power in reserve. They are trying to exhaust us!"

"And to lessen the burden on their foodstuffs, perhaps," Kane quietly added. He was between Gareth and Emelyn when he spoke, and both caught his meaning well. "They expect a siege, we can conclude, and believe that they can outlast us with winter fast approaching."

Before them, those monsters who had somehow managed to avoid the arrows came on fast, and were met by a barrage of minor spells. Missiles of wizardly energy—blue, green, and red—shot out and swerved of their own accord, it seemed, unerringly blasting into the targeted creatures. When a pair of ambitious goblins drew too near, Emelyn waved away his charges and stepped forward personally. He touched the tips of his thumbs together, fingers spread wide before him, and spoke a simple command.