“I thought you said that Biggrin was laird of this cave,” said Drizzt.
“The cave,” answered the giant. “And once a tribe. But Biggrin follows the master now!”
“We’ve got trouble,” Drizzt mumbled to Wulfgar. “Have you ever heard of a verbeeg chieftain giving up its dominance to another without a fight?”
“I fear for the dwarves,” said Wulfgar.
Drizzt turned back to the giant and decided to change the subject so that he could extract some information more immediate to their situation. “What is at the end of this tunnel?”
“Nothin’,” said the verbeeg, too quickly. “Er, just a place for us t’ sleep, is all.”
Loyal, but stupid, noted Drizzt. He turned to Wulfgar again. “We have to take out Biggrin and any others in the cave who might be able to get back to warn this Akar Kessell.”
“What about this one?” asked Wulfgar. But the giant answered the question for Drizzt. Delusions of glory pushed it to seek death in the wizard’s service. It tightened its muscles, ignoring the pain in its knee, and lunged at the companions.
Aegis-fang smashed the verbeeg’s collarbone and neck at the same time Drizzt’s scimitar was slipping through its ribs and Guenhwyvar was locking onto its gut.
But the giant’s death mask was a smile.
The corridor behind the back door of the dining room was unlit, and the companions had to pull a torch from its sconce in the other corridor to take with them. As they wound their way down the long tunnel, moving deeper and deeper into the hill, they passed many small chambers, most empty, but some holding crated stores of various sorts: foodstuffs, skins, and extra clubs and spears. Drizzt surmised that Akar Kessell planned to use this cave as a home base for his army.
The blackness was absolute for some distance and Wulfgar, lacking the darkvision of his elven companion, grew nervous as the torch began to burn low. But then they came into a wide chamber, by far the largest they had seen, and beyond its reaches, the tunnel spilled out into the open night.
“We have come to the front door,” said Wulfgar. “And it’s ajar. Do you believe that Biggrin has left?”
“Sssh,” hushed Drizzt. The drow thought that he had heard something in the darkness on the far right. He motioned for Wulfgar to stay in the middle of the room with the torch as he crept away into the shadows.
Drizzt stopped short when he heard gruff giant voices ahead, though he couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t see their bulky silhouettes. When he came upon a large hearth, he understood. The voices were echoing through the chimney.
“Biggrin?” asked Wulfgar when he came up.
“Must be,” reasoned Drizzt. “Think you can fit through the chimney?”
The barbarian nodded. He hoisted Drizzt up first—the drow’s left arm still wasn’t of much use to him—and followed, leaving Guenhwyvar to keep watch.
The chimney snaked up a few yards, then came to an intersection. One way led down to a room from which the voices were coming, and the other thinned as it rose to the surface. The conversation was loud and heated now, and Drizzt moved down to investigate. Wulfgar held the drow’s feet to help him inch down the final descent, as the slope became nearly vertical. Hanging upside down, Drizzt peeked under the rim of the hearth in another room. He saw three giants: one by a door at the far end of the room, looking as though it wanted to leave, and a second with its back to the hearth, being scolded by the third, an immensely wide and tall frost giant. Drizzt knew by the twisted, lipless smile that he looked upon Biggrin.
“To tell Biggrin!” pleaded the smaller giant.
“Ye ran from a fight,” scowled Biggrin. “Ye left yer friends t’ die!”
“No …” protested the giant, but Biggrin had heard enough. With one swipe of its huge axe, it lopped the smaller giant’s head off.
The men found Guenhwyvar diligently on watch when they came out of the chimney. The big cat turned and growled in recognition when it saw its companions, and Wulfgar, not understanding the throaty purr to be a friendly sound, took a cautious step away.
“There has to be a side tunnel off the main corridor further down,” Drizzt reasoned, having no time to be amused by his friend’s nervousness.
“Let’s get this over with, then,” said Wulfgar.
They found the passage as the drow had predicted and soon came to a door they figured would lead to the room with the remaining giants. They clapped each other on the shoulder for luck and Drizzt patted Guenhwyvar, though Wulfgar declined the drow’s invitation to do likewise. Then they burst in.
The room was empty. A door previously invisible to Drizzt from his vantage point at the hearth stood ajar.
Biggrin sent its lone remaining soldier out the secret side door with a message for Akar Kessell. The big giant had been disgraced, and it knew that the wizard wouldn’t readily accept the loss of so many valuable troops. Biggrin’s only chance was to take care of the two intruding warriors and hope that their heads would appease its unmerciful boss. The giant pressed its ear to the door and waited for its victims to enter the adjoining room.
Wulfgar and Drizzt passed through the second door and came into a lavish chamber, its floor adorned with plush furs and large, puffy pillows. Two other doors led out of the room. One was slightly open, a darkened corridor beyond, and the other was closed.
Suddenly Wulfgar stopped Drizzt with an outstretched hand and motioned for the drow to be quiet. The intangible quality of a true warrior, the sixth sense that allows him to sense unseen danger, had come into play. Slowly the barbarian turned to the closed door and lifted Aegis-fang above his head. He paused for a moment and cocked his head, straining to hear a confirming sound. None came, but Wulfgar trusted his instincts. He roared to Tempos and launched the hammer. It split the door asunder with a thunderous snap and dropped the planks—and Biggrin—to the floor.
Drizzt noticed the swing of the open secret door across the room beyond the giant chieftain and realized that the last of the giants must have slipped away. Quickly the drow set Guenhwyvar into motion. The panther understood, too, for it bolted away, clearing the writhing form of Biggrin with one great bound, and charged out of the cave to give chase to the escaping verbeeg.
Blood streamed down the side of the big giant’s head, but the thick bone of its skull had rejected the hammer. Drizzt and Wulfgar looked on in disbelief as the huge frost giant shook its jowls and rose to meet them.
“It can’t do that,” protested Wulfgar.
“This giant’s a stubborn one,” Drizzt shrugged.
The barbarian waited for Aegis-fang to return to his grasp, then moved with the drow to face Biggrin.
The giant stayed in the doorway to prevent either of its foes from flanking it as Wulfgar and Drizzt confidently moved in. The three exchanged ominous stares and a few easy swings as they felt each other out.
“You must be Biggrin,” Drizzt said, bowing. “That I am,” proclaimed the giant. “Biggrin! The last foe yer eyes’ll see!”
“Confident as well as stubborn,” Wulfgar remarked.
“Little human,” the giant retorted, “I’ve squashed a hunnerd o’ yer puny kin!”
“More reason for us to kill you,” Drizzt stated calmly.
With sudden speed and ferocity that surprised its two opponents, Biggrin took a wide sweep with its huge axe. Wulfgar stepped back out of its deadly range, and Drizzt managed to duck under the blow, but the drow shuddered when he saw the axe blade take a fair-sized chunk out of the stone wall.
Wulfgar jumped right back at the monster as the axe passed him, pounding on Biggrin’s broad chest with Aegis-fang. The giant flinched but took the blow.
“Ye’ll have t’ hit me harder ’an that, puny man!” it bellowed as it launched a mighty backswing with the flat head of the axe.
Again Drizzt slipped below the swing. Wulfgar, however, battle-weary as he was, did not move quickly enough to back out of range. The barbarian managed to get Aegis-fang up in front of him, but the sheer
force of Biggrin’s heavy weapon smashed him into the wall. He crumpled to the floor.
Drizzt knew that they were in trouble. His left arm remained useless, his reflexes were slowing with exhaustion, and this giant was simply too powerful for him to parry any blows. He managed to slip in one short thrust with his scimitar as the giant recovered for its next swing, and then he fled toward the main corridor.
“Run, ye dark dog!” roared the giant. “I’ll after ye, an’ I’ll have ye!” Biggrin charged after Drizzt, smelling the kill.
The drow sheathed his scimitar as he reached the main passage and looked for a spot to ambush the monster. Nothing presented itself, so he went halfway to the exit and waited.
“Where can ye hide?” Biggrin taunted as its huge bulk entered the corridor. Poised in the shadows, the drow threw his two knives. Both hit home, but Biggrin hardly slowed.
Drizzt moved outside the cave. He knew that if Biggrin didn’t follow him, he would have to go back in; he certainly couldn’t leave Wulfgar to die. The first rays of dawn had found their way onto the mountain, and Drizzt worried that the growing light would spoil any chance he had for ambush. Scrambling up one of the small trees that concealed the exit, he pulled out his dagger.
Biggrin charged out into the sunlight and looked around for signs of the fleeing drow. “Yer about, ye miserable dog! Ye’ve no place to run!”
Suddenly Drizzt was on top of the monster, gouging its face and neck in a barrage of stabs and slices. The giant howled in rage and jerked its massive body backward violently, sending Drizzt, who could not gain a firm hold with his weakened arm, flying back into the tunnel. The drow landed heavily on his injured shoulder and nearly swooned in agony. He squirmed and twisted for a moment, trying to regain his feet, but he bumped into a heavy boot. He knew that Biggrin couldn’t have gotten to him so quickly. He turned slowly onto his back, wondering where this new giant had come from.
But the drow’s outlook changed dramatically when he saw that Wulfgar stood over him, Aegis-fang firmly in his hand and a grim look stamped upon his face. Wulfgar never took his eyes off of the giant as it entered the tunnel.
“He’s mine,” the barbarian said grimly.
Biggrin looked hideous indeed. The side of its head where the hammer had struck was caked with dark, dried blood, while the other, and several spots on its face and neck, ran bright with blood from new wounds. The two knives Drizzt had thrown were still sticking in the giant’s chest like morbid medals of honor.
“Can you take it again?” Wulfgar challenged as he sent Aegis-fang on a second flight toward the giant.
In answer, Biggrin stuck out his chest defiantly to block the blow. “I can take whatere’ ye have t’give!” it boasted.
Aegis-fang slammed home, and Biggrin staggered back a step. The hammer had cracked a rib or two, but the giant could handle that.
More deadly, though, and unknown to Biggrin, Aegis-fang had driven one of Drizzt’s knives through the lining of its heart.
“I can run, now,” Drizzt whispered to Wulfgar when he saw the giant advancing again.
“I stay,” the barbarian insisted without the slightest tremor of fear in his voice.
Drizzt pulled his scimitar. “Well spoken, brave friend. Let us fell this foul beast—there’s food to be eaten!”
“Ye’ll find that more a task than ye talk!” Biggrin retorted. It felt a sudden stinging in its chest, but it grunted away the pain. “I’ve felt the best that ye can hit, an’ still I come at ye! Ye can no’ hope t’ win!”
Both Drizzt and Wulfgar feared that there was more truth to the giant’s boasts than either of them would admit. They were on their last legs, wounded and winded, yet determined to stay and finish the task.
But the complete confidence of the great giant as it steadily approached was more than a little unnerving.
Biggrin realized that something was terribly wrong when it got within a few steps of the two companions. Wulfgar and Drizzt knew, too, for the giant’s stride suddenly slowed visibly.
The giant looked at them in outrage as though it had been deceived. “Dogs!” it gasped, a gout of blood bursting from its mouth. “What trick …”
Biggrin fell dead without another word.
“Should we go after the cat?” Wulfgar asked when they got back to the secret door.
Drizzt was wrapping a torch out of some rags he had found. “Faith in the shadow,” he answered. “Guenhwyvar will not let the verbeeg escape. Besides, I have a good meal waiting for me back in the cave.”
“You go,” Wulfgar told him. “I shall stay here and watch for the cat’s return.”
Drizzt clasped the big man’s shoulder as he started to leave. They had been through a lot in the short time they had been together, and Drizzt suspected that the excitement was just beginning. The drow sang a feasting song as he started to the main passage, but only as a dodge to Wulfgar, for the dinner table wouldn’t be his first stop. The giant they had spoken with earlier had been evasive when asked about what lay down the one tunnel they had yet to explore. And with everything else they had found, Drizzt believed that could only mean one thing—treasure.
The great panther loped along over the broken stones, easily gaining on the heavy-footed giant. Soon Guenhwyvar could hear the verbeeg’s labored breathing as the creature struggled with every leap and climb. The giant was making for Daledrop and the open tundra beyond. But so frenzied was its flight that it didn’t move off the face of Kelvin’s Cairn to the easier ground of the valley. It sought a straighter route, believing it to be the quicker path to safety.
Guenhwyvar knew the areas of the mountain as well as its master, knew where every creature on the mountain laired. The cat had already discerned where it wanted the giant to go. Like a shepherd’s dog, it closed the remaining distance and scratched at the giant’s flanks, veering it into the direction of a deep mountain pool. The terrified verbeeg, certain that the deadly warhammer or darting scimitar weren’t far behind, didn’t dare stop and engage the panther. It surged blindly along the path Guenhwyvar had chosen.
A short time later, Guenhwyvar broke away from the giant and raced ahead. When the cat reached the edge of the cold water, it tilted its head and concentrated its keen senses, hoping to spy something that could help it complete the task. Then Guenhwyvar noticed a tiny shimmer of movement under the sparkles of the first light on the water. Its sharp eyes sorted out the long shape lying deathly still. Satisfied that the trap was set, Guenhwyvar moved back behind a nearby ledge to wait.
The giant lumbered up to the pool, breathing heavily. It leaned against a boulder for a moment, despite its terror. Things seemed safe enough for the moment. As soon as it had caught its breath, the giant looked around quickly for signs of pursuit, then started forward again.
There was only one path across the pool, a fallen log that spanned the center, and all the alternative routes around the pool, though the water wasn’t very wide, weaved around sheer drops and jutting rock faces and promised to be slow going.
The verbeeg tested the log. It seemed sturdy, so the monster cautiously started across. The cat waited for the giant to get close to the center of the pool, then charged from its hiding place and launched itself into the air at the verbeeg. The cat landed heavily into the surprised giant, planting its paws in the monster’s chest and rebounding back toward the safety of the shore. Guenhwyvar splashed into the icy pool but scrambled quickly out of the perilous water. The giant, though, swung its arms wildly for a moment, trying to hold its precarious balance, then toppled in with a splash. The water rushed up to suck it down. Desperately, the giant lunged for a nearby floating log, the shape that Guenhwyvar had recognized earlier.
But as the verbeeg’s hands came down, the form it had thought to be a log exploded into movement as the fifty-foot water constrictor threw itself around its prey with dizzying speed. The unrelenting coils quickly pinned the giant’s arms to its side and began their merciless squeeze.
Guenhwyvar shook
the freezing water from its glistening black coat and looked back to the pool. As yet another length of the monstrous snake locked under the verbeeg’s chin and pulled the helpless monster under the surface, the panther was satisfied that the mission was complete. With a long, loud roar proclaiming victory, Guenhwyvar bounded off toward the lair.
rizzt padded through the tunnels and past the bodies of the dead giants, slowing only to grab another hunk of mutton from the large table. He crossed through the support beams and started down the dim hallway, tempering his eagerness with common sense. If the giants had hidden their treasure down here, the chamber holding it might be behind a concealed door, or there might even be some beast, though not likely another giant, since it would have joined in the fighting.
The tunnel was quite long, running straight northward, and Drizzt figured that he was now moving underneath the mass of Kelvin’s Cairn. He had passed the last torch, but he was glad for the darkness. He had lived the majority of his life traveling tunnels in the lightless subterranean world of his people, and his large eyes guided him in absolute darkness more accurately than in areas of light.
The hallway ended abruptly at a barred, iron-bound door, its metal holding bar locked into place by a large chain and padlock. Drizzt felt a pang of guilt for leaving Wulfgar behind. The drow had two weaknesses: foremost was the thrill of battle, but a close second was the tingle of uncovering the booty of his vanquished foes. It wasn’t the gold or gems that lured Drizzt; he didn’t care for wealth and rarely even kept any of the treasures he had won. It was simply the thrill of viewing them for the first time, the excitement of sifting through them and perhaps, discovering some incredible artifact that had been lost to knowledge in ages past, or maybe the spellbook of an ancient and powerful mage.
His guilt flew away as he pulled a small lockpick from his belt-pouch. He had never been formally trained in the thieving arts, but he was as agile and coordinated as any master burglar. With his sensitive fingers and acute hearing, he wasn’t particularly challenged by the clumsy lock; in a matter of seconds, it fell open. Drizzt listened carefully for any sounds behind the door. Hearing none, he gently lifted the large bar and set it aside. Listening one last time, he drew one of his scimitars, held his breath in anticipation, and pushed in the door.
The Crystal Shard Page 18