Regis eyed the divided spokesmen. Without unity, the halfling wondered how much protection even the high walls of Bryn Shander could offer.

“No arguin’,” Bruenor snarled, though none of his four friends standing beside him on the rocky slopes of the climb had any intention of speaking against the decision. In their foolish pettiness and pride, the majority of the spokesmen had doomed their communities to almost certain destruction and neither Drizzt, Wulfgar, Catti-brie, nor Regis expected the dwarves to join in such a hopeless cause.

“When will you block the mines?” Drizzt asked. The drow hadn’t yet decided if he would join the dwarves in the self-imposed prison of their caves, but he had planned to act as scout to Bryn Shander at least until Akar Kessell’s army moved into the region.

“The preparin’ll begin tonight,” said Bruenor. “But once they’re in place, we’ve no rush. We’ll let the stinkin’ orcs come right down our throats afore we drop the tunnels, an’ take ‘em in the fall! Are ye to stay with us, then?”

Drizzt shrugged his shoulders. Though he was still shunned by most of the people of Ten-Towns, the drow felt a strong sense of loyalty and wasn’t sure that he could turn his back on his chosen home, even under suicidal circumstances. And Drizzt had little desire to return to the lightless underworld, even in the hospitable caverns of the dwarven town.

“And what’s yer decision?” Bruenor asked Regis.

The halfling, too, was torn between his instincts for survival and his loyalty to Ten-Towns. With the help of the ruby, he had lived well during the last years on Maer Dualdon. But now his cover had been stripped away. After the rumors flowing out of the council, everyone in Bryn Shander whispered about the halfling’s magical influence. It wouldn’t be long before all of the communities heard about Kemp’s accusations and avoided, if not openly shunned, him. Either way, Regis knew that his days of easy living in Lonelywood were nearing an end.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he said to Bruenor. “I’ll come in before Kessell arrives.”

“Good,” replied the dwarf. “Ye’ll get a room near the boy, so none o’ the dwarves has to hear yer bellyachin’!” He flashed Drizzt a good-natured wink.

“Nay,” said Wulfgar. Bruenor looked at him curiously, misunderstanding the barbarian’s intentions and wondering why he objected to having Regis beside him.

“Watch yerself, boy,” the dwarf teased. “If ye’re thinkin’ ye’re to be stayin’ beside the girl, then be thinkin’ about duckin’ yer head from the swing o’ me axe!”

Catti-brie chuckled softly, embarrassed yet truly touched.

“Your mines are not the place for me,” Wulfgar said suddenly. “My life is on the plain.”

“Ye forget that yer life is mine for choosin’!” Bruenor retorted. In truth, his yelling was more the short temper of a father than the outrage of a master.

Wulfgar rose before the dwarf, proud and stern. Drizzt understood and was pleased. Now Bruenor also had an idea of what the barbarian was getting at, and though he hated the thought of separation, he felt more pride in the boy at that moment than ever before.

“My time of indenture is not ended,” Wulfgar began, “yet I have repaid my debt to you, my friend, and to your people many times over.

“I am Wulfgar!” he proudly proclaimed, his jaw firm and his muscles tightened with tension. “No more a boy but a man! A free man!”

Bruenor felt the moisture rimming his eves. For the first time he did nothing to conceal it. He walked out before the huge barbarian and returned Wulfgar’s unyielding stare with a look of sincere admiration.

“So ye are,” Bruenor observed. “Then might I ask ye, on yer choice, if ye’ll stay and fight beside me?”

Wulfgar shook his head. “My debt to you is paid, in truth. And forever I shall name you as my friend…dear friend. But I have another debt yet to pay.” He looked out to Kelvin’s Cairn and beyond. The countless stars shone clearly over the tundra, making the open plain seem even more vast and empty. “Out there, in another world.”

Catti-brie sighed and shuffled uncomfortably. She alone fully understood the vague picture that Wulfgar was painting. And she wasn’t pleased with his choice.

Bruenor nodded, respecting the barbarian’s decision. “Go then, and live well,” he said, straining to hold his breaking voice even as he moved to the rocky trail. He paused for one last moment and looked back at the tall, young barbarian. “Yer a man, there’s none to argue that,” he said over his shoulder. “But don’t ye never forget that ever ye’ll be me boy!”

“I shan’t,” Wulfgar whispered softly as Bruenor disappeared into the tunnel. He felt Drizzt’s hand on his shoulder.

“When do you leave?” the drow asked.

“Tonight,” Wulfgar replied. “These grim days offer no leisure.”

“And where do you go?” Catti-brie asked, already knowing the truth, and also the vague answer that Wulfgar would give.

The barbarian turned his misty gaze back out to the plain. “Home.”

He started back down the trail, Regis following. But Catti-brie waited behind and motioned for Drizzt to do likewise.

“Say your farewells to Wulfgar this night,” she told the drow. “I do not believe that he shall ever return.”

“Home is a place for him to choose,” Drizzt replied, guessing that the news about Heafstaag joining Kessell had played a part in Wulfgar’s decision. He watched the departing barbarian with respect. “He has some private matters to attend to.”

“More than you know,” Catti-brie said. Drizzt looked at her curiously. “Wulfgar has an adventure in mind,” she explained. She hadn’t meant to break her trust with Wulfgar, but figured that Drizzt Do’Urden, above anyone else, might be able to find a way to help. “One that I believe has been put upon him before he is ready.”

“Matters of the tribe are his own business,” Drizzt said, guessing what the girl was suggesting. “The barbarians have their own ways and do not welcome outsiders.”

“Of the tribes, I agree,” said Catti-brie. “Yet Wulfgar’s path, unless I am mistaken, does not lead directly home. He has something else ahead of him, an adventure that he has often hinted at but never fully explained. I only know that it involves great danger and a vow that even he fears is above his ability to fulfil alone.”

Drizzt looked over the starry plain and considered the girl’s words. He knew Catti-brie to be shrewd and observant beyond her years. He did not doubt her guesses.

The stars twinkled above the cool night, the celestial dome engulfing the flat rim of the horizon. A horizon as yet unmarked by the fires of an advancing army, Drizzt noted.

Perhaps he had time.

Although Cassius’s proclamation reached even the most remote of the towns within two days, few groups of refugees came down the roads to Bryn Shander. Cassius had fully expected this, or he never would have made the bold offer of sheltering all who would come. Bryn Shander was a fair-sized city, and her present population was not as large as it had once been. There were many vacant buildings within the walls, and an entire section of the city, reserved for visiting merchant caravans, lay empty at the present time. However, if even half of the people of the other nine communities sought refuge, Cassius would be hard-pressed to honor his pledge.

The spokesman wasn’t worried. The people of Ten-Towns were a hardy folk and lived under the threat of a goblin invasion every day. Cassius knew that it would take more than an abstract warning to make them leave their homes. And with the allegiance between the towns at such a low point, few of the town leaders would take any action at all to convince their people to flee.