“It’s going better than we might have hoped,” Drizzt agreed, “but these are wizards, my friend, and never to be underestimated.”

“Arklem Greeth has a trick or ten ready for us, I don’t doubt,” said Deudermont. “But with an overwizard and her minions now on our side, we can better anticipate and so better defeat such tricks. Unless, of course, this Arabeth Raurym is the first of those very deceptions….”

He said it in jest, but his glance at Robillard showed anything but levity.

“She isn’t,” the wizard assured him. “Her betrayal of the Hosttower is genuine, and not unexpected. It was she, I’m sure—and so is Arklem Greeth—who betrayed the Arcane Brotherhood’s advances into the Silver Marches. No, her survival depends upon Arklem Greeth losing, and losing everything.”

“She has put everything on the line for our cause.”

“Or for her own,” Robillard replied.

“So be it,” said Deudermont. “In any case, her defection brings us needed strength to ensure the destruction of the Hosttower’s perverse leader.”

“And then what?” Regis asked.

Deudermont stared hard at Regis and replied, “What do you mean? You cannot support the rule of Arklem Greeth, who is not even alive. His very existence is a perversion!”

Regis nodded. “All true, I expect,” he replied. “I only wonder…” He looked to Drizzt for support, but then just shook his head, not believing himself qualified to get into such a debate with Captain Deudermont.

Deudermont smiled at him then moved to pour wine into four tallglasses, handing them around.

“Follow your heart and do what is good and just, and the world will be aright,” Deudermont said, and lifted his glass in toast.

The others joined in, though the tapping of glasses was not enthusiastic.

“Enough time has passed,” Deudermont said after a sip. He referred to Lord Brambleberry’s bidding that he should go and join Brambleberry with Arabeth and the Mirabarrans. His intentional delay in going was a calculated stutter in bringing in the leadership, to keep the balance of power on Brambleberry’s side. He and Deudermont were more impressive introduced separately than together.

Drizzt motioned to Regis to go with the captain. “The Mirabarrans will not yet understand my new relationship with their marchion,” Drizzt said. “Go and represent Bruenor’s interests at this meeting.”

“I don’t know Bruenor’s interests,” Regis quipped.

Drizzt tossed a wink at Deudermont. “He trusts the good captain,” the drow said.

“Trusting the good captain’s heart and trusting his judgment might be two entirely different matters, wouldn’t you agree?” Robillard said to Drizzt when the other two had gone. He dumped his remaining wine into the hearth and moved to a different bottle, a stronger liquor, to refill his glass, and to fill another one for Drizzt, who gingerly accepted it.

“You don’t trust his judgment?” the drow asked.

“I fear his enthusiasm.”

“You loathe Arklem Greeth.”

“More so because I know him,” Robillard agreed. “But I know Luskan, too, and recognize that she is not a town predisposed to peace and law.”

“What will we have when the smothering mantle of the Hosttower is removed?” asked Drizzt.

“Five high captains of questionable demeanor—men Captain Deudermont would have gladly killed at sea had he caught them in their swaggering days of piracy. Perhaps they have settled into reasonable and capable leaders, but…”

“Perhaps not,” Drizzt offered, and Robillard lifted his glass in solemn agreement.

“I know the devil who rules Luskan, and the limits of his demands and depravations. I know his thievery, his piracy, his murder. I know the sad injustice of Prisoner’s Carnival, and how Greeth cynically uses it to keep the peasants terrified even as they’re entertained. What I don’t know is what devil will come after Greeth.”

“So believe in Captain Deudermont’s premise,” the drow offered. “Do what is good and just, and trust that the world will be aright.”

“I like the open seas,” Robillard replied. “Out there, I find clear demarcations of right and wrong. There is no real twilight out there, and no dawn light filtered by mountains and trees. There is light and there is darkness.”

“To simplicity,” Drizzt said with another tip of his glass.

Robillard looked out the window to the late afternoon skyline. Smoke rose from several locations, adding to the gloom.

“So much gray out there,” the wizard remarked. “So many shades of gray….”

“I didn’t think you would have the courage to come here,” High Captain Kurth said when Kensidan, seeming so much the Crow, walked unescorted into his private parlor. “You could disappear….”

“And how would that benefit you?”

“Perhaps I just don’t like you.”

Kensidan laughed. “But you like what I have allowed to take place.”

“What you have allowed? You speak for Ship Rethnor now?”

“My father accepts my advice.”

“I should kill you for simply admitting that. It’s not your prerogative to so alter the course of my life, whatever promise of better things you might expect.”

“This need not affect you,” Kensidan said.

Kurth snorted. “To get to the Hosttower, Brambleberry’s forces will have to cross Closeguard. By allowing that, I’m taking sides. You and the others can hide and wait, but you—or your father—have forced a choice upon me that threatens my security. I don’t like your presumption.”

“Don’t allow them passage,” Kensidan replied. “Closeguard is your domain. If you tell Deudermont and Brambleberry that they cannot pass, then they will have to sail to the Hosttower’s courtyard.”

“And if they win?”

“You have my assurance—the assurance of Ship Rethnor—that we will speak on your behalf with Captain Deudermont should he ascend to lead Luskan. There will be no residual acrimony toward Ship Kurth for your reasonable decision.”

“In other words, you expect me to be in your debt.”

“No…”

“Do not play me for a fool, young man,” said Kurth. “I was indenturing would-be leaders before your mother spread her legs. I know the price of your loyalty.”

“You misjudge me, and my Ship,” said Kensidan. “When Arklem Greeth is no more, the high captains will find a new division of spoils. There is only one among that group, outside of Ship Rethnor, who is truly formidable, and who will be able seize the right opportunity.”

“Flattery…” Kurth said with a derisive snort.

“Truth, and you know it.”

“I know that you said ‘outside of Ship Rethnor’ and not ‘other than Rethnor,’” Kurth remarked. “It’s official then, though secret, that Kensidan captains that Ship.”

Kensidan shook his head. “My father is a great man.”

“Was,” Kurth corrected. “Oh, take no offense at a statement you know to be true,” he added when Kensidan bristled, like a Crow ruffling the feathers of its black wings. “Rethnor recognizes it, as well. He is wise to know when it’s time to pass along the reins of power. Whether or not he chose wisely is another matter entirely.”

“Flattery…” Kensidan said, mocking Kurth’s earlier tone.

Kurth cracked a smile at that.

“How long has Suljack suckled at your teat, boy?” Kurth asked. “You should coach him to stop looking at you for approval whenever he makes a suggestion or statement favorable to your position.”

“He sees the potential.”

“He is an idiot, and you know him to be just that.”

Kensidan didn’t bother replying to the obvious. “Captain Deudermont and Lord Brambleberry chart their own course,” he said. “Ship Rethnor neither encourages nor dissuades them, but seeks only to find profit in the wake.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Kensidan shrugged.

“Will Arklem Greeth believe you if he proves victorious?”

“Will Captain Deudermont understand your refusal to allow passage across Closeguard if he wins the fight?”