dead, of course, for he still had no idea if these were friends or foes. So he dropped Taulmaril to the ground and drew forth his blades defensively.
He needn’t have bothered.
The nearest attacker, a tall and gangly man still many strides from Drizzt, gave a howl and lifted his sword up over his head. Then a lithe elf form swung down agilely from the branch above, her legs hooked and secure. With the momentum of the movement, Dahlia smacked the charging man on the forehead with her long staff and sent him to the ground, his sword flying away.
Dahlia came forward, letting go with her legs to spin down in a landing so balanced that it seemed somehow casual. Even as she touched down, she gracefully sprang right over the sitting and dazed man. The woman, just a couple of strides ahead, tried to get her spear in line, but Dahlia slipped down low as she swept past her, her staff sweeping in to take the woman’s feet out from under her.
Back on the road, the archer cried for the driver to ride on. But just as the horses began to run, Guenhwyvar leaped into the middle of the road and roared again. The terrified team reared and shrieked in protest.
From the edge of the road, Drizzt noted the third of the trailing runners—the one who had gone down hard—stumbling in the darkness, his torch sputtering in the rain far behind on the road. Drizzt paid him no heed and sprinted for the wagon, which had gone past him to his left. Though it was no longer moving, Drizzt saw the archer come up facing him, bow reset and drawn.
Drizzt dropped to his knees, sliding across the mud as the arrow went harmlessly above him. He came up right behind the wagon bed and leaped high with his momentum, easily clearing the low tailgate. As soon as he set his feet firmly, he leaped again, tucking his legs to clear the bench and the ducking drivers, and turning as he went so he landed at the base of the yoke, facing the two men. The team continued to rear and struggle, but the jostling didn’t bother the agile drow at all. He held his scimitars level in front of the faces of his captives.
“Take it all, but don’t ye kill me, I beg,” the driver desperately pleaded, his open palms waving and shaking up beside his wide, wet face. “Please, good sir.”
The other man dropped his bow, covered his face with his hands, and began to weep.
“Who is chasing you?” Drizzt asked the drivers.
They seemed flummoxed by the unexpected question.
“Who?” Drizzt demanded.
“Highwaymen,” said the archer. “A foul band o’ ne’er-do-wells thinking to steal our goods and cut our throats!”
Drizzt looked at Dahlia, who had come out on the road to face down the third runner, who stood with his hands up in surrender, obviously wanting no part of a fight with her.
“Who are you and where are you from?” Drizzt asked.
“Port Llast,” answered the archer, at the same time the driver said, “Luskan.”
Drizzt eyed them suspiciously.
“Out o’ Luskan, but coming back on our way through Port Llast,” the archer explained.
“Commissioned by the high captains,” the driver quickly added, and he seemed to gain some confidence.
“Carrying?”
“Food, wine, goods,” the driver said, but the archer tried to halt him, putting his hand out across the man’s chest.
“Carryin’ what we’re carryin’ and what business is it o’ yer own?” the archer asked.
Drizzt grinned at him wickedly and the man seemed to deflate, perhaps reminded that the high captains wouldn’t offer him much of a defense against a simple thrust of the scimitar that hovered barely a hand’s-breadth from his face.
A ruckus farther down the road indicated that the pursuit was nearing.
“If I find you’re lying to me then know we will meet again long before you see the lights of Port Llast.” Drizzt withdrew his blades and flipped them over before neatly sliding them back into their scabbards. “Now be gone!”
He tipped a salute and leaped between the men, over the back of the bench. He helped the three stragglers up into the wagon then watched as it sped on its way.
“Letting them go?” Dahlia came up beside him. “How noble of you.” She handed him Taulmaril and the quiver Drizzt had dropped before his charge at the wagon.
“Would you have me steal their goods and slay them?”
“The first, at least.”
Drizzt stared at her. “They’re simple merchants.”
“Yes, from Luskan, I heard. Simple men