Pride told me that I was the cause of Wulfgar's death; pride told me that I could be the one to right the wrong. Sheer arrogance prevented me from dealing openly with my friend, the dwarven king, who could muster the forces necessary to combat any forthcoming drow attacks.
On that ledge on the Isle of Rothe, I realized that I would pay for my arrogance; later, I would learn that others dear to me might pay as well.
It is a deftat of the spirit to learn that one's arrogance causes such loss and pain. Pride invites you to soar to heights of personal triumph, but the wind is stronger at those heights and the footing, tentative. Farther, then, is the fall.
Chapter 18 VALIANT FAILURE
She noticed a dark elf on the isle's dock, waving his arms and motioning for her to go back. He seemed to be alone.
Catti-brie lifted Taulmaril and let fly. The arrow cut the darkness as would a bolt of lightning, slamming into the sur prised drow's chest and hurling him back a dozen feet. Catti-brie and Guenhwyvar stepped onto the beach a minute later. The young woman felt the locket and started to tell Guenhwyvar to run around to the right, but the panther had already sensed the nearness of its master, was already in full flight across the broken landscape, veering in from the beach as it ran.
The woman followed as quickly as she could, but lost sight of the speeding cat almost immediately as Guenhwyvar cut a sharp turn around the base of the nearest hillock, claws throwing up moist turf.
Catti-brie heard a startled cry and, when she came around the base of that mound, she saw a dark elf soldier, looking away from her, his gaze apparently following the run of the panther. One of his arms was upraised, steadying a hand crossbow.
Catti-brie fired on the run, her arrow going high and scorching a hole in the side of the mound, just inches above the drow's head. He spun about immediately and retaliated, the dart clipping the turf near the diving and rolling woman.
Quick to fit another arrow, Catti-brie fired next, driving a hole in the drow soldier's trailing piwafzvi as he scrambled to the side. He skidded to one knee, fitted a quarrel as he went, and raised his arm again.
Catti-brie fired also, the arrow blasting through the hand crossbow and the drow's hand, slicing out his wrist and burying deep in his upper chest.
She had won the duel, but had lost precious time. Disoriented, the young woman needed the locket again to direct her, and off she ran.
His skilled opponents' fierce attacks soon became measured strikes as Drizzt parried every move and often managed an effective counter. One of the drow held just one weapon now, with his dirk arm tucked in close to his side to stem the flow of blood from a curv ing scimitar gash.
Drizzt's confidence continued to soar. How many enemies were here on the isle? he wondered, and he dared to believe that he might win.
His blood froze when he heard a roar behind him, thinking that some monstrous ally had come to his enemies' aid. The wounded drow soldier widened his eyes in terror and began to backpedal, but Drizzt took little comfort in that. Most drow allies were tentative at best, chaotic creatures of incredible and unpredictable power. If this were indeed some summoned monster, some demonic ally, stalking' from behind him, then Drizzt was surely its primary target.
The backpedaling drow broke into a dead run, fleeing along the ledge, and Drizzt used his departure to work around to the side, to try to get a look at what he would face next.
A black feline form whipped past him, pursuing his fleeing enemy. For an instant, he thought that some drow must have a fig urine similar to his own, must have summoned a cat similar to Guenhwyvar. But this was Guenhwyvar! Drizzt knew instinctively. This was his Guenhwyvar!
Excitement fast turned to confusion. Drizzt thought that Regis must have called the panther, back in Mithril Hall, and that the cat must have come running out after him. It made no sense, though, for Guenhwyvar could not remain on the Material Plane long enough to make the journey all the way from the dwarven strong hold. The figurine had to have been carried to Menzoberranzan.