I had hoped to find the woman before we crossed the last expanse to Nesme," Wulfgar remarked to Catti-brie. Their caravan had stopped to re-supply at a nondescript, unnamed cluster of houses still a couple of days' travel from their destination, and the last such scheduled stop on their journey.

"There are still more settlements," Catti-brie reminded him, for indeed, the drivers had told them that they would pass more secluded lodges in the next two days.

"The houses of hunters and loners," Wulfgar replied. "No places appropriate for Cottie to remain with Colson."

"Unless all the refugees remained together and decided to begin their own community."

Wulfgar replied with a knowing smile, a reflection of Catti-brie's own feelings on the subject, to be sure. She knew as Wulfgar knew that they would find Cottie Cooperson and Colson in Nesme.

"Two days," Catti-brie said. "In two days, you will have Colson in your arms once more. Where she belongs."

Wulfgar's grim expression, even a little wince, caught her by surprise.

"We have heard of no tragedies along the road," Catti-brie added. "If the caravan bearing Cottie and the others had been attacked, word would have already spread through these outposts. Since we are so close, we can say with confidence that Cottie and Colson reached Nesme safely."

"Still, I have no love of the place," he said, "and no desire to see the likes of Galen Firth or his prideful companions ever again."

Catti-brie moved closer and put her hand on Wulfgar's shoulder. "We will collect the child and be gone," she said. "Quickly and with few words. We come with the backing of Mithral Hall, and to Mithral Hall we will return with your child."

Wulfgar's face was unreadable, though that, of course, only reaf-firmed Catti-brie's suspicions that something was amiss.

The caravan rolled out of the village before the next dawn, wheels creaking against the uneven strain of the perpetually muddy ground. As they continued west, the Trollmoors, the fetid swamp of so many unpleasant beasts, seemed to creep up toward them from the south. But the drivers and those more familiar with the region appeared unconcerned, and were happy to explain, often, that things had quieted since the rout of the trolls by Alustriel's Knights in Silver and the brave Riders of Nesme.

"The road's safer than it's been in more than a decade," the lead driver insisted.

"More's the pity," one of the regulars from the second wagon answered loudly. "I been hoping a few trolls or bog blokes might show their ugly faces, just so I can watch the work of King Bruenor's kids!"

That brought a cheer from all around, and a smile did widen on Catti-brie's face. She looked to Wulfgar. If he had even heard the remarks, he didn't show it.

Wulfgar and Catti-brie weren't really sure what they might find when their caravan finally came into view of Nesme, but they knew at once that it was not the same town through which they had traveled on their long-ago journey to rediscover Mithral Hall. Anticipated images of ruined and burned-out homes and shoddy, temporary shelters did not prepare them for the truth of the place. For Nesme had risen again already, even through the cold winds of winter.

Most of the debris from the troll rampage had been cleared, and newer buildings, stronger, taller, and with thicker walls, replaced the old structures. The double wall surrounding the whole of the place neared completion, and was particularly fortified along the southern borders, facing the Trollmoors.

Contingents of armed and armored riders patrolled the town, meeting the caravan far out from the new and larger gate.

Nesme was alive again, a testament to the resiliency and determination, and sheer stubbornness that had marked the frontiers of human advancement throughout Faerun. For all of their rightful negativity toward the place, given their reception those years before, neither Wulfgar nor Catti-brie could hide their respect.

"So much like Ten-Towns," Catti-brie quietly remarked as their wagon neared the gate. "They will not bend."

Wulfgar nodded his agreement, slightly, but he was clearly distracted as he continued to stare at the town.

"They've more people now than before the trolls," Catti-brie said, repeating something the caravan drivers had told the both of them earlier along the road. "Twice the number, say some."

Wulfgar didn't blink and didn't look her way. She sensed his inner turmoil, and knew that it wasn't about Colson. Not only, at least.

She tried one last time to engage him, saying, "Nesme might inspire other towns to grow along the road to Silverymoon, and won't that be a fitting response to the march of the murderous trolls? It may well be that the northern border will grow strong enough to build a militia that can press into the swamp and be rid of the beasts once and for all."

"It might," said Wulfgar, in such a tone as to show Catti-brie that he hadn't even registered that to which he agreed.

The town gates, towering barriers thrice the height of a tall man and built of strong black-barked logs banded together with heavy straps of metal, groaned in protest as the sentries pulled them back to allow the caravan access to the town's open courtyard. Beyond that defensive wall, Wulfgar and Catti-brie could see that their initial views of Nesme were no illusion, for indeed the town was larger and more impressive than it had been those years before. It had an official barracks to support the larger militia, a long, two-story building to their left along the defensive southern wall. Before them loomed the tallest structure in town, aside from a singular tower that was under work somewhere in the northwestern quadrant. Two dozen steps led off the main plaza where the wagons parked, directly west of the eastern-facing gates. At the top of those steps ran a pair of parallel, narrow bridges, just a short and defensible expanse, to the impressive front of the new Nesmian Town Hall. Like all the rest of the town, the building was under construction, but like most of the rest, it was ready to stand against any onslaught the Trollmoors in the south, or King Obould in the north, might throw against it.

Wulfgar hopped down from the back of the wagon, then helped Catti-brie to the ground so that she didn't have to pressure her injured hip. She spent a moment standing there, using his offered arm for support, as she stretched the tightness out of her pained leg.

"The folk ye seek could be anywhere in the town," their wagon driver said to them, walking over and speaking quietly.

He alone among the caravan had been in on the real reason Wulfgar and Catti-brie were journeying to Nesme, for fear that someone else might gossip and send word to Cottie and her friends to flee ahead of their arrival. "They'll not be in any common rooms, as ye saw in Silverymoon, for Nesme's being built right around the new arrivals. More than half the folk ye'll find here just came from other parts, mostly from lands Obould's darkened with his hordes. Them and some of the Knights in Silver, who remained with the Lady's blessing so that they could get closer to where the fighting's likely to be...."

"Surely there are scribes making note of who's coming in and where they're settling," said Catti-brie.

"If so, ye'll find them in there," said the driver, motioning toward the impressive town hall. "If not, yer best chance is in frequenting the taverns after work's done. Most all the workers find their way to those places - and there're only a few such establishments, and they're all together on one avenue near the southwestern corner. If any're knowing of Cottie, there's the place to find them."

Word spread fast through Nesme that the arriving caravan had carried with it a couple of extraordinary guards. When the whispers of Catti-brie and Wulfgar reached the ears of Cottie Cooperson's fellow refugees, they knew at once that their friend was in jeopardy.

So by the time Wulfgar and Catti-brie had made their way to the tavern avenue, a pair of concerned friends had whisked Cottie and Colson to the barracks area and the separate house of the town's current leader, Galen Firth.

"He's come to take the child," Teegorr Reth explained to Galen, while his friend Romduul kept Cottie and Colson out in the anteroom.

Galen Firth settled back in his chair behind his desk, digesting it all. It had come as a shock to him, and not a pleasant one, that the human prince and princess of Mithral Hall had arrived in his town. He had assumed it to be a diplomatic mission, and given the principals involved, he had suspected that it wouldn't be a friendly one. Mithral Hall had suffered losses for the sake of Nesme in the recent battles. Could it be that King Bruenor sought some sort of recompense?

Galen had never been friendly with the dwarves of Mithral Hall or with these two.

"You cannot let him have her," Teegorr implored the Nesmian leader.

"What is his claim?" Galen asked.

"Begging your pardon, sir, but Cottie's been seeing to the girl since she left Mithral Hall. She's taken Colson as her own child, and she's been hurt."

"The child?"

"No, Cottie, sir," Teegorr explained. "She's lost her own - all her own."

"And the child is Wulfgar's?"

"No, not really. He brought the girl to Mithral Hall, with Delly, but then Delly gave her to Cottie."

"With or without Wulfgar's agreement?"

"Who's to say?"

"Wulfgar, I would assume."

"But..."

"You assume that Wulfgar has come here to take the child, but could it be that he is merely passing through to check up on her?" Galen asked. "Or might it be that he is here for different reasons - would he even know that your friend Cottie decided to settle in Nesme?"

"I...I...I can't be saying for sure, sir."

"So you presume. Very well, then. Let Cottie stay here for now until we can determine why Wulfgar has come."

"Oh, and I thank you for that!"

"But make no mistake, good Teegorr, if Wulfgar's claim is true and he wants the child back, I am bound to honor his claim."

"Your pardon, sir, but Cottie's got twenty folk with her. Good strong hands, who know the frontier and who know how to fight."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No, sir!" Teegorr was quick to reply. "But if Nesme's not to protect our own, then how are our own to stay in Nesme?"

"What are you asking?" Galen replied, standing up forcefully. "Am I to condone kidnapping? Is Nesme to become an outpost for criminals?"

"It's not so simple as that, is all," said Teegorr. "Delly Curtie gave the girl to Cottie, so she's no kidnapper, and not without claim."

That settled Galen Firth back a bit. He couldn't keep the disdain from his face, for it was not a fight he wanted to entertain just then. Clan Battlehammer and Nesme were not on good terms, despite the fact that the dwarves had sent warriors down to help the Nesmians. In the subsequent sorting of events, the rebuilding of Nesme had taken precedence over King Bruenor's desire to take the war back to Obould, something that had clearly simmered behind the angry eyes of the fiery dwarf.

And there remained that old issue of the treatment Bruenor and his friends, including Wulfgar and the drow elf Drizzt, had met with on their initial pass through Nesme those years ago, an unpleasant confrontation that had set Galen Firth and the dwarf at odds.

Neither could Galen Firth keep the wry grin from breaking through his otherwise solemn expression on occasion as he pondered the possibilities. He couldn't deny that there would be a measure of satisfaction in causing grief to Wulfgar, if the opportunity presented itself.

"Who knows that you came here?" Galen asked.

Teegorr looked at him curiously. "To Nesme?"

"Who knows that you and your friend brought Cottie and the child here to me?"

"Some of the others who crossed the Surbrin beside us."

"And they will not speak of it?"

"No," said Teegorr. "Not a one of us wants to see the child taken from Cottie Cooperson. She's suffered terribly, and now she's found peace - and one that's better for the girl than anything Wulfgar might be offering."

"Wulfgar is a prince of Mithral Hall," Galen reminded. "A man of great wealth, no doubt."

"And Mithral Hall is no place for a man, or a girl - particularly a girl!" Teegorr argued. "Good enough for them dwarves, and good for them. But it's no place for a human girl to grow."

Galen Firth rose up from his seat. "Keep her here," he instructed. "I will go and see my old friend Wulfgar. Perhaps he is here for reasons other than the girl."

"And if he is?"

"Then you and I never had this discussion," Galen explained.

He set a pair of guards outside the anteroom, with orders that no one should enter, and he gathered up a couple of others in his wake as he headed out across the darkening town to the taverns and the common rooms. As he expected, he found Wulfgar and Catti-brie in short order, sitting at a table near the bar of the largest of the taverns, and listening more than speaking.

"You have come to join our garrison!" Galen said with great exaggeration as he approached. "I always welcome strong arms and a deadly bow."

Wulfgar and Catti-brie turned to regard him, their faces, particularly the large barbarian's, hardening upon recognition.

"We have need for a garrison of our own in Mithral Hall," Catti-brie replied politely.

"The orcs have not been pushed back," Wulfgar added, his sharp tone reminding Galen Firth that Galen himself, and his insistence on Nesme taking precedence, had played no minor role in the decision to not dislodge King Obould.

The other folk in the town knew that as well, and didn't miss the reference, and all in the tavern hushed as Galen stood before the two adopted children of King Bruenor Battlehammer.

"Everything in its time," Galen replied, after looking around to ensure his support. "The Silver Marches are stronger now that Nesme has risen from the ruins." A cheer started around him, and he raised his voice in proclamation, "For never again will the trolls come forth from the mud to threaten the lands west of Silverymoon or the southern reaches of your own Mithral Hall."

Wulfgar's jaw tightened even more at the notion that Nesme was serving as Mithral Hall's vanguard, particularly since Mithral Hall's efforts had preserved what little had remained of Nesme's population.

Which was exactly the effect Galen Firth had been hoping for, and he grinned knowingly as Catti-brie put her hand on Wulfgar's enormous forearm in an effort to keep him calm.

"We had no word that we would be so graced," Galen said. "Is it customary among Clan Battlehammer for emissaries to arrive unannounced?"

"We are not here on the business of Bruenor," said Catti-brie, and she motioned for Galen Firth to sit down beside her, opposite Wulfgar.

The man did pull out the chair, but he merely turned it and put his foot up on it, which made him tower over the two even more. Until, that is, Wulfgar rose to his feet, his nearly seven foot frame, his giant shoulders, stealing that advantage.

But Galen didn't back down. He stared hard at Wulfgar, locking the man's gaze. "Then why?" he asked, his voice lower and more insistent.

"We came in as sentries for a caravan," Catti-brie said.

Galen glanced down at her. "The children of Bruenor hire out as mercenaries?"

"Volunteers doing our part in the collective effort," Catti-brie answered.

"It was a way to serve others as we served our own needs," Wulfgar said.

"To come to Nesme?" asked Galen.

"Yes."

"Why, if not for Brue - "

"I have come to find a girl, Colson, who was taken from Mithral Hall," Wulfgar stated.

"'Taken'? Wrongly?"

"Yes."

Behind Wulfgar, several people bustled about. Galen recognized them as friends of Teegorr and Cottie, and expected that there might soon be trouble - which he didn't think so dire a possibility. In truth, the man was interested in testing his strength against that of the legendary Wulfgar, and besides, he had enough guards nearby to ensure that there would be no real downside to any brawl.

"How is it that a child was abducted from Mithral Hall," he asked, "and ferried across the river by Bruenor's own? What dastardly plot turned that result?"

"The girl's name is Colson," Catti-brie intervened, as Wulfgar and Galen Firth leaned in closer toward each other. "We have reason to believe that she has come to Nesme. In fact, that seems most assured."

"There are children here," Galen Firth admitted, "brought in with the various groups of displaced people, who have come to find community and shelter."

"No one can deny that Nesme has opened her gates to those in need," Catti-brie replied, and Wulfgar shot a glare her way. "A mutually beneficial arrangement for a town that grows more grand by the day."

"But there is a child here that does not belong in Nesme, nor to the woman who brought her here," Wulfgar insisted. "I have come to retrieve that girl."

Someone moved fast behind Wulfgar, and he spun, quick as an elf. He brought his right arm across, sweeping aside a two-handed grab by one of Cottie's friends, then turned the arm down, bringing the fool's arms with it. Wulfgar's left hand snapped out and grabbed the man by the front of his tunic. In the blink of an astonished eye, Wulfgar had the man up in the air, fully two feet off the ground, and shook him with just the one hand.

The barbarian turned back on Galen Firth, and with a flick of his arm sent the shaken fool tumbling aside.

"Colson is leaving with me. She was wrongly taken, and though I bear no ill will" - he paused and turned to let his penetrating gaze sweep the room - "to any of those who were with the woman to whom she was entrusted, and no ill will toward the woman herself - surely not!  -  I will leave with the girl rightfully returned."

"How did she get out of Mithral Hall, a fortress of dwarves?" an increasingly annoyed Galen Firth asked.

"Delly Curtie," said Wulfgar.

"Wife of Wulfgar," Catti-brie explained.

"Was she not then this child's mother?"

"Adopted mother, as Wulfgar is Colson's adopted father," said Catti-brie.

Galen Firth snorted, and many in the room muttered curses under their breath.

"Delly Curtie was under the spell of a powerful and evil weapon," Catti-brie explained. "She did not surrender the child of her own volition."

"Then she should be here to swear to that very thing."

"She is dead," said Wulfgar.

"Killed by Obould's orcs," Catti-brie added. "For after she handed the child to Cottie Cooperson, she ran off to the north, to the orc lines, where she was found, murdered and frozen in the snow."

Galen Firth did grimace a bit at that, and the look he gave to Wulfgar was almost one tinged with sympathy. Almost.

"The weapon controlled her," said Catti-brie. "Both in surrendering the child and in running to certain doom. It is a most foul blade. I know well, for I carried it for years."

That brought more murmurs from around the room and a look of astonishment from Galen. "And what horrors did Catti-brie perpetrate under the influence of such a sentient evil?"

"None, for I controlled the weapon. It did not control me."

"But Delly Curtie was made of stuff less stern," said Galen Firth.

"She was no warrior. She was not raised by dwarves."

Galen Firth didn't miss the pointed reminder of both facts, of who these two were and what they had behind their claim.

He nodded and pondered the words for a bit, then replied, "It is an interesting tale."

"It is a demand that will be properly answered," said Wulfgar, narrowing his blue eyes and leaning even more imposingly toward the leader of Nesme. "We do not ask you to adjudicate. We tell you the circumstance and expect you to give back the girl."

"You are not in Mithral Hall, son of Bruenor," Galen Firth replied through gritted teeth.

"You deny me?" Wulfgar asked, and it seemed to all that the barbarian was on the verge of a terrible explosion. His blue eyes were wide and wild.

Galen didn't back down, though he surely expected an attack.

And again Catti-brie intervened. "We came to Nesme as sentries on a caravan from Silverymoon, as a favor to Lady Alustriel," she explained, turning her shoulder and putting her arm across the table to block Wulfgar, though of course she couldn't hope to slow his charge, should it come. "For it was Lady Alustriel, friend of King Bruenor Battlehammer, friend of Drizzt Do'Urden, friend of Wulfgar and of Catti-brie, who told us that Colson would be found in Nesme."

Galen Firth tried to hold steady, but he knew he was giving ground.

"For she knows Colson well, and well she knows of Colson's rightful father, Wulfgar," Catti-brie went on. "When she heard our purpose in traveling to Silverymoon, she put all of her assets at our disposal, and it was she who told us that Cottie Cooperson and Colson had traveled to Nesme. She wished us well on our travels, and even offered to fly us here on her fiery chariot, but we felt indebted and so we agreed to travel along with the caravan and serve as sentries."

"Would not a desperate father take the quicker route?" asked Galen Firth, and around him, heads bobbed in agreement.

"We did not know that the caravan bearing Colson made it to Nesme, or whether perhaps the hearty and good folk accompanying the child decided to debark earlier along the road. And that is not for you to decide in any case, Galen Firth. Do you deny Wulfgar's rightful claim? Would you have us go back to Lady Alustriel and tell her that the proud folk of Nesme would not accede to the proper claim of Colson's own father? Would you have us return at once to Silverymoon and to Mithral Hall with word that Galen Firth refused to give Wulfgar his child?"

"Adopted child," remarked one of the men across the way.

Galen Firth didn't register that argument. The man had thrown him some support, but only because he obviously needed it at that moment. That poignant reminder had him squaring his shoulders, but he knew that Catti-brie had delivered a death blow to his obstinacy. For he knew that she spoke the truth, and that he could ill afford to anger the Lady of Silverymoon. Whatever might happen between King Bruenor and Galen would not likely ill affect Nesme, for the dwarves would not come south to do battle, but for Lady Alustriel to take King Bruenor's side was another matter entirely. Nesme needed Silverymoon's support. No caravan would travel to Nesme that did not originate in, or at least pass through, the city of Lady Alustriel.

Galen Firth was no fool. He did not doubt the story of Catti-brie and Wulfgar, and he had seen clearly the desperation on Cottie Cooperson's face when he had left her in the barracks. That type of desperation was borne of knowing that she had no real claim, that the child was not hers.

For of course, Colson was not.

Galen Firth looked over his shoulder to his guards. "Go and fetch Cottie Cooperson and the girl," he said.

Protests erupted around the room, with men shaking their fists in the air.

"The child is mine!" Wulfgar shouted at them, turning fiercely, and indeed, all of those in front stepped back. "Would any of you demand any less if she was yours?"

"Cottie is our friend," one man replied, rather meekly. "She means the girl no harm."

"Fetch your own child, then," said Wulfgar. "Relinquish her, or him, to me in trade!"

"What foolish words are those?"

"Words to show you your own folly," said the big man. "However good Cottie Cooperson's heart, and I do not doubt your claim that she is worthy both as a friend and a mother, I cannot surrender to her a girl that is my own. I have come for Colson, and I will leave with Colson, and any man who stands in my way would do well to have made his peace with his god."

He snapped his arm in the air before him and called to Aegis-fang, and the mighty warhammer appeared magically in his grasp. With a flick, Wulfgar rapped the hammer atop a nearby table, shattering all four legs and dropping the kindling to the floor.

Galen Firth gasped in protest, and the one guard behind him reached for his sword - and stared down the length of an arrow set on Catti-brie's Taulmaril.

"Which of you will come forward and deny my claim to Colson?" Wulfgar asked the group, and not surprisingly, his challenge was met with silence.

"You will leave my town," Galen Firth said.

"We will, on the same caravan that brought us in," Catti-brie replied, easing her bow back to a rest position as the guard relinquished his grip on the sword and raised his hands before him. "As soon as we have Colson."

"I intend to protest this to Lady Alustriel," Galen Firth warned.

"When you do," said Catti-brie, "be certain to explain to Lady Alustriel how you almost incited a riot and a tragedy by playing the drama out before the hot humors of men and women who came to your town seeking naught but refuge and a new home. Be certain to tell Lady Alustriel of Silverymoon of your discretion, Galen Firth, and we will do likewise with King Bruenor."

"I grow tired of your threats," Galen Firth said to her, but Catti-brie only smiled in reply.

"And I long ago tired of you," Wulfgar said to the man.

Behind Galen Firth, the tavern door opened, and in came Cottie Cooperson holding Colson and pulled along by a guard. Outside the door two men jostled with another pair of guards, who would not let them enter.

The question of Wulfgar's claim was answered the moment Colson came into the room. "Da!" the toddler cried, verily leaping out of Cottie's grasp to get to the man she had known as her father for all her life. She squealed and squirmed and reached with both her arms for Wulfgar, calling for her "Da!" over and over again.

He rushed to her, dropping Aegis-fang to the ground, and took her in his arms then gently, but forcefully, removed her from Cottie's desperate grasp. Colson made no movement back toward the woman at all, but crushed her da in a desperate hug.

Cottie began to tremble, to cry, and her desperation grew by the second. In a few moments, she went down to her knees, wailing.

And Wulfgar responded, dropping to one knee before her. With his free hand, he lifted her chin and brushed back her hair, then quieted her with soft words. "Colson has a mother who loves her as much as you loved your own children, dear woman," he said.

Behind him, Catti-brie's eyes widened with surprise.

"I can take care o' her," Cottie wailed.

Wulfgar smiled at her, brushed her hair back again, then rose. He called Aegis-fang to his free hand and stalked past Galen Firth, snickering in defiance of the man's glare. As he went through the door, Cottie's two companions, for all their verbal protests, parted before him, for few men in all the world would dare stand before Wulfgar, son of Beornegar, a warrior whose legend had been well earned.

"I will speak with our drivers," Catti-brie informed Wulfgar when they exited the inn, with a chorus of shouts and protests echoing behind them. "We should be on our way as soon as possible."

"Agreed," said Wulfgar. "I will wait for the wagons to depart."

Catti-brie nodded and started for the door of a different tavern, where she knew the lead driver to be. She stopped short, though, as she considered the curious answer, and turned back to regard Wulfgar.

"I will not be returning to Silverymoon," Wulfgar confirmed.

"You can't be thinking of going straight to Mithral Hall with the child. The terrain is too rough, and in the hands of orcs for much of the way. The safest road back to Mithral Hall is through Silverymoon."

"It is, and so you must go to Silverymoon."

Catti-brie stared at him hard. "Are you planning to stay here, that Cottie Cooperson can help with Colson?" she said with obvious and pointed sarcasm. To her ultimate frustration, she couldn't read Wulfgar's expression. "You've got family in the hall. I'll be there for you and for the girl. I'm knowing that it will be difficult for you without Delly, but I won't be on the road anytime soon, and be sure that the girl will be no burden to me."

"I will not return to Mithral Hall," Wulfgar stated bluntly, and a gust of wind would have likely knocked Catti-brie over at that moment. "Her place is with her mother," Wulfgar went on. "Her real mother. Never should I have taken her, but I will correct that error now, in returning her where she belongs."

"Auckney?"

Wulfgar nodded.

"That is halfway across the North."

"A journey I have oft traveled and one not fraught with peril."

"Colson has a home in Mithral Hall," Catti-brie argued, and Wulfgar was shaking his head even as the predictable words left her mouth.

"Not one suitable for her."

Catti-brie licked her lips and looked from the girl to Wulfgar, and she knew that he might as well have been speaking about himself at that moment.

"How long will you be gone from us?" the woman dared to ask.

Wulfgar's pause spoke volumes.

"Ye cannot," Catti-brie whispered, seeming very much like a little girl with a Dwarvish accent again.

"I have no choice before me," Wulfgar replied. "This is not my place. Not now. Look at me!" He paused and swept his free hand dramatically from his head to his feet, encompassing his gigantic frame. "I was not born to crawl through dwarven tunnels. My place is the tundra. Icewind Dale, where my people roam."

Catti-brie shook her head with every word, in helpless denial. "Bruenor is your father," she whispered.

"I will love him to the end of my days," Wulfgar admitted. "His place is there, but mine is not."

"Drizzt is your friend."

Wulfgar nodded. "As is Catti-brie," he said with a wistful smile. "Two dear friends who have found love, at long last."

Catti-brie mouthed, "I'm sorry," but she couldn't bring herself to actually speak the words aloud.

"I am happy for you both," said Wulfgar. "Truly I am. You complement each other's every movement, and I have never heard your laughter more full of contentment, nor Drizzt's. But this was not as I had wanted it. I am happy for you - both, and truly. But I cannot stand around and watch it."

The admission took the woman's breath away. "It doesn't have to be like this," she said.

"Do not be sad!" Wulfgar roared. "Not for me! I know now where my home is, and where my destiny lies. I long for the song of Icewind Dale's chill breeze, and for the freedom of my former life. I will hunt caribou along the shores of the Sea of Moving Ice. I will battle goblins and orcs without the restraints of political prudence. I am going home, to be among my own people, to pray at the graves of my ancestors, to find a wife and carry on the line of Beornegar."

"It is too sudden."

Again Wulfgar shook his head. "It is as deliberate as I have ever been."

"You have to go back and talk to Bruenor," Catti-brie said. "You owe him that."

Wulfgar reached under his tunic, produced a scroll, and handed it to her. "You will tell him for me. My road is easier west from here than from Mithral Hall."

"He will be outraged!"

"He will not even be in Mithral Hall," Wulfgar reminded. "He is out to the west with Drizzt in search of Gauntlgrym."

"Because he is in dire need of answers," Catti-brie protested. "Would you desert Bruenor in these desperate days?"

Wulfgar chuckled and shook his head. "He is a dwarf king in a land of orcs. Every day will qualify as you describe. There will be no end to this, and if there is an end to Obould, another threat will rise from the depths of the halls, perhaps, or from Obould's successor. This is the way of things, ever and always. I leave now or I wait until the situation is settled - and it will only be settled for me when I have crossed to Warrior's Rest. You know the truth of it," he said with a disarming grin, one that Catti-brie could not dismiss. "Obould today, the drow yesterday, and something - of course something - tomorrow. That is the way of it."

"Wulfgar..."

"Bruenor will forgive me," said the barbarian. "He is surrounded by fine warriors and friends, and the orcs will not likely try again to capture the hall. There is no good time for me to leave, and yet I know that I cannot stay. And every day that Colson is apart from her mother is a tragic day. I understand that now."

"Meralda gave the girl to you," Catti-brie reminded him. "She had no choice."

"She was wrong. I know that now."

"Because Delly is dead?"

"I am reminded that life is fragile, and often short."

"It is not as dark as you believe. You have many here who support..."

Wulfgar shook his head emphatically, silencing her. "I loved you," he said. "I loved you and lost you because I was a fool. It will always be the great regret of my life, the way I treated you before we were to be wed. I accept that we cannot go back, for even if you were able and willing, I know that I am not the same man. My time with Errtu left marks deep in my soul, scars I mean to erase in the winds of Icewind Dale, running beside my tribe, the Tribe of the Elk. I am content. I am at peace. And never have I been more certain of my road."

Catti-brie shook her head with every word, in helpless and futile denial, and her blue eyes grew wet with tears. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. The five Companions of the Hall were together again, and they were supposed to stay that way for all their days.

"You said that you support me, and so I ask you to now," said Wulfgar. "Trust in my judgment, in that I know what course I must follow. I take with me my love for you and for Drizzt and for Bruenor and for Regis. That is ever in the heart of Wulfgar. I will never let the image of you and the others fade from my thoughts, and never let the lessons I have learned from all of you escape me as I walk my road."

"Your road so far away."

Wulfgar nodded. "In the winds of Icewind Dale."

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