"Gakhos, the shepherd," Tethys continued, "is a rich man, and he's drawn to vengeance. In my experience, a man drawn to avenge-even by proxy, which is what he hired us for-will pay until there is nothing left of his gold or his anger. We can kill a lot of wolves for the gold he's paying and not have to worry about taking one of those damned overland trips to the Sword Coast."

"Or maybe you're wanting to begin a new career as a sellsword aboard one of those new ships that are being outfitted for the Sea of Fallen Stars," another of the young hunters said. "Since the Serosian War and the destruction of the Whamite Isles-not to mention the unleashing of the sahuagin throughout the Inner Sea-there's plenty of call for sailors that don't mind getting bloody."

"Mayhap you can even sign up to join the forces guarding the trade negotiations of Myth Nantar," another of the young hunters said. He was one of the two largest men in the group. If they weren't twins, they were at least brothers. "I hear that after pulling a tour of duty down in Myth Nantar, you can breathe the ocean waters just like the air itself." "Standing here talking," Ennalt grumbled, "isn't going to put us any closer to our beds for the evening, or to hunting wolves, if that's what we're going to do." The reminder pulled Haarn from his inclination to watch the hunting party rather than deal with it. Broadfoot shifted restlessly in the forest to Haarn's left, but the noise he made wasn't something the hunters in the group below would have noticed. Haarn laid his scimitar across his knees, the flat of the blade resting easily, then cupped his hands before his mouth. He blew gently, making the sound of a bloodybeak, one of the small birds in the forest that fed on the mosquitoes that lived around Evenstar Lake. He hit all four notes perfectly, and a chorus of responses came from the darkness as nearby birds answered him, but Haarn knew Broadfoot would recognize his call and be alerted. Whisper-quiet, Haarn stood and walked down the hillside toward the hunting party. His arrival startled them, stepping as he did from the trees into the circumference of light from the lanterns. "Tymora watch over me," one of the men snarled as he turned to face Haarn. "What the hell is that?" All of the men and the woman reached for their weapons, baring blades in a heartbeat. Two of the men lifted heavy crossbows and turned them toward Haarn. "Leave these lands," Haarn ordered. He stood unafraid before them, certain that he could move even more quickly than the crossbowmen could pull the triggers on their weapons. The trick was to recognize when they were going to fire. "There will be no more wolf hunting." "Says who?" one of the two big men demanded. "If you continue hunting," Haarn promised emotionlessly, not thinking of the mother wolf he'd seen killed earlier, "I will hunt you, and I will slay you all before the sun rises again." "Like hell you will," Tethys said. He pointed the long sword he wielded. "Shoot him!"

Druz Talimsir stared at the wraith that had stepped from the dark forest around the party of wolf hunters. She gripped her long sword tightly in her fist as the men around her moved, thronging out in a semicircle to confront the man. At least she thought the forest warrior was a man.

An elf, she corrected herself, spotting one pointed ear a moment later.

The elf stood a few inches short of six feet and possessed a slender build. Still, his wide shoulders and deep chest promised strength, though he didn't pack a lot of weight. Most professional sellswords would have looked at the slender figure standing before them with never a qualm about a physical confrontation.

Druz had experienced several combat situations during her years as a mercenary. Though she was only twenty-five, she'd battled orc hordes and bugbears that had tried to take merchant convoys she'd signed on to protect. During the last year, before an injury in Alagh?n had separated her from the mercenary group she'd signed on with for the previous three years, she'd fought in the Serosian War.

That war was a year past, but employment for mercenaries willing to battle the pirates, the shark-worshiping sahuagin now freed throughout the sea, and the nations that battled each other for shipping lanes, salvage from the battles above and below the sea, and trading rights with the newly re-discovered city of Myth Nantar burgeoned. It was one of those battles between shipping guilds that had drawn Druz to Alagh?n.

Studying the slim elf before her, Druz felt certain that her luck had completely soured. That man, dressed as he was in hide armor, his wild black hair pulled back to lay on his shoulders and festooned with sprigs of wood and blossoms of a half-dozen plants, might look like a vagabond or a madman, but the mercenary felt certain she knew what the man was. Trying to kill him would amount to a death wish.

"Feather the damn dandelion-sipper and be done with it," Tethys growled again. "I won't have any man threatening to kill me."

But that won't stop you from threatening to kill another man, will it? Druz mused.

The crossbowmen stood on either side of Druz. One of them was Ennalt and the other was Kord-brothers who had signed on with the ragtag outfit. Both of them held their weapons pointed at the forest warrior.

"Don't," Druz commanded.

In her days she'd sometimes served as a unit commander. She'd learned how to pitch her voice so that it garnered instant respect and attention. Kord hesitated and raised the crossbow to aim into the star-filled sky.

"To hell with that," Tethys growled. "Feather that bastard, Ennalt."

Ennalt's trigger knuckle whitened as the man took up the crossbow's slack.

Without hesitation, Druz swung around, bringing her arm up in a powerful sweep that knocked the crossbow up. The catgut string slid across the stock with a short hiss, and the stubby quarrel took flight.

Arvis, Kord's younger brother by a year, and more impulsive than his older brother who was known for his steadfast pace and unwavering commitment, closed on the forest warrior. Arvis stood head and shoulders taller than the forest warrior and normally brimmed with over-confidence anyway. Facing the much smaller man, Arvis showed no hesitation at all as he whirled his battle-axe effortlessly before him.

"Don't fret over this one," Arvis boomed in his deep voice. "I have him." He stepped forward, his grin lighted by the flickering lanterns in the hands of the men around him.

The forest warrior's attention never seemed to break from the men in front of him. His dark green eyes, glimmering in the lantern light somewhat like a cat's, regarded Druz curiously. His head cocked slightly, as if he didn't notice the way the bigger man closed on him. The forest warrior's scimitar stayed mostly out of sight beside his back leg.

"Don't kill him," Druz pleaded. "He's little more than a boy."

Arvis, she knew, would resent her deeply for the comment, but if it would help save his life, she didn't care. Arvis and Kord, though both blooded in skirmishes around Alagh?n and some of the cities along the western coast of the Sea of Fallen Stars, hadn't yet seen twenty.

"Don't kill him?" Forras repeated, shifting on his bad leg. "Why, Arvis will break this little upstart in half."

Druz watched, feeling a chill like icy cat's paws kneading between her shoulders. She liked Arvis, though his aggressive nature made him somewhat hard to take.

Arvis made his situation even worse by not taking the threat the smaller man offered more seriously. He stepped in and casually feinted with the battle-axe.

Before he could pull back, the smaller man stepped in quickly, going to Arvis's left. Anticipating the big warrior's attempt to block with the battle-axe haft, the small man backhanded his opponent in the nose with his empty fist.