got your unclean hands on my brother's mask! Gromph, or perhaps that dangerous Jarlaxle, will have many questions to answer.
"I am surprised at you, too, assassin, " she went on. "Your repu tation precedes you, I would have expected a better performance. Did you not understand the significance of mere males guarding our prized catch?"
She looked to Drizzt and shook her head. "Those pretend guards I put in place were expendable, of course, " she said. Drizzt made no move, showed no reply in his features. He felt the strength returning to him as the healing potions did their work, but that strength would make little difference, he realized, facing the likes of Vendes and two supremely armed and trained females. The ranger looked to his coat of armor disdainfully, it would do him little good held in his hands.
Entreri's mind was working more clearly now, but his body was not. The electrical impulses continued, defeating any coordinated attempt at movement. He did manage to drop one hand into his pouch, though, in response to something Vendes had said, some hint at fleeting hope.
"We suspected that the human woman was alive, " Vendes explained, "in the clutches of Jarlaxle, most likely, and we hardly hoped that she would be so easily delivered to us.
Entreri had to wonder if Jarlaxle had double crossed him. Had the mercenary concocted this elaborate plan for no better reason than to deliver Catti-brie to House Baenre? It made no sense to Entreri, but little about Jarlaxle's actions these last hours made sense to him.
The mention of Catti-brie brought a measure of fire to Drizzt's eyes. He couldn't believe that the young woman was here, in Men zoberranzan, that she had risked so much to come after him. Where was Guenhwyvar? he wondered. And had Bruenor or Regis come along beside Catti-brie?
He winced as he eyed the young woman, wrapped in greenish goo. How vulnerable she seemed, how utterly helpless.
The fires burned brighter in Drizzt's lavender eyes when he returned his gaze to Vendes. Gone was his fear of his torturer; gone was his resignation about how things had to end.
In one swift motion, Drizzt dropped the suit of armor and snapped out his scimitars.
On a nod from Vendes, the two females were on Drizzt, one cir cling to each side. One tapped her sword against Twinkle's curving blade, indicating that Drizzt should drop the weapon. He looked down to Twinkle, and all logic told him to comply.
He spun the scimitar in a wild arc instead, swishing the female's sword aside. His second blade came up suddenly, defeating a thrust from the other side before it ever began.
"0 fool!" Vendes cried at him in obvious glee. "I do so wish to see you fight, Drizzt Do'Urden, since Dantrag is so intent on slaughtering you!"
The way she said it made Drizzt wonder who Vendes would want to win that potential fight. He had no time to ponder the con tinuing intrigue of the chaotic world, though, not with two drow females pressing him so.
Vendes reverted to the Drow language then, commanding her soldiers to beat Drizzt fiercely, but not to kill him.
Drizzt turned a sudden spin, like a screw, his blades weaving a dangerous pattern on all sides. He came out of it suddenly, viciously, snapping a thrust at the female on his left. He scored a minor hit, doing no real damage against the fabulous drow armor, armor that Drizzt was not wearing.
That point was driven home by the tip of a sword that then nicked Drizzt from the right. He grimaced and pivoted back, his backhanded cut taking the sword away before it could do any real damage.
Entreri prayed that Vendes was as intent on the fight as her sol diers, for every movement he made seemed so very clumsy and obvious. Somehow, he managed to get the spider mask out of his pouch and over his trembling hand, and then he reached up and grabbed Catti-brie's belt.
His trembling fingers could not support the hold, though, and he fell back to the floor.
Vendes glanced casually his way, snickered, apparently not noticing the mask, and turned back to the fight.
Entreri sat half propped by the wall, trying to find some inner control to ward off the nasty drow enchantment, but all his efforts proved useless; his muscles continued their involuntary twitching.
Swords cut in at Drizzt from every angle. One drew a line on his cheek, stinging him painfully. The skilled females, working per fectly in concert,