The Do'Urden Brothers

Chapter Three

The days without Drizzt were long and hard for the king of Mithral Hall. And then, to be without his beloved daughter, who had left to free the drow as soon as she was able, it stung.

Breunor didn't want to let Catti-Brie go. He had already lost Wulfgar, and that lost was still raw. But to send the human girl he'd raised into the heart of Menzoberranzan alone was the last thing he would ever want to do.

But Catti-Brie was a grown woman, and her destiny was her own choice. She was determined to go, and Breunor would have had to tie her down to prevent it. Breunor wanted to go with her, to fight at her sight to the bitter end, but he couldn't. He was the king of Mithral Hall, and he had a war to plan.

There were times like these when he wished he had never reclaimed Mithral Hall. When he could be beside his friends through all their adventures. Now, he had responsibilities that limited his freedom.

"Me king," Breunor realized he had been lost in his own contemplations when General Dagna approached him along with the cleric Yagrelda. Yagrelda had arrived all the way from Citadel Adbar to aid them.

"What are ye for?" Breunor grumbled, not bothering to hide his grumpy disposition. The two of them ignored his tone and Dagna stepped forward.

"We've succeeded," he announced. Breunor raised a brow, instantly interested. He knew that Yagrelda and her team had been working on restoring the drider that they had captured for over two ten days. Breunor had complained that it was a useless waste of resources and time for them to have continued for so long, but the cleric was determined and her magical skill was unparalleled in the dwarf world.

Dwarves had little use for magic and many looked at it with suspicion, so the cleric's profession was certainly an unusual one in her society.

Breunor leapt off his throne and eyed them both. "Yer saying the drider ain't a drider no more?" he asked.

"We've got ourselves a drow prisoner," Yagrelda proclaimed proudly, stroking her yellow beard. "Didn't think I'd be able to do it, but it's done. And his injuries are all healed up as well. He be waitin for ye in the dungeon."

Breunor shoved past them and hurried down to Mithral Hall's dungeon, eager to have a few words with this drow. It was the dark elves who had killed Wulfgar and many other dwarf soldiers, and the dark elves who had stolen Drizzt from them. Now, at least, he had one to take out his frustrations on.

He found the drow male inside a jail cell, the metal bars on the door allowing them both to see one another.

"Ye have a name, ye pointy eared dog?" Breunor sneered as he glared at the drow through the bars. The drow lifted his gaze to glare at the king. There was a familiarity to his handsome features.

"He looks a lot like Drizzt," Breunor commented to Dagna as the general and the cleric both stood beside the king. Dagna only shrugged.

"Dark elves all look the same to me," the general responded. But when the drow chuckled darkly at the mention of Drizzt, they regarded him closely.

"I should think I resemble Drizzt," he spoke in the dwarvish language. "Since we share the same mother. At least we did before her death. My name is Dinin Do'Urden."

Breunor raised a brow in surprise. What could be the odds of capturing one of Drizzt's own family members? The king hadn't been able to speak to Drizzt since he had been captured before the dwarves had gone into the Underdark after him, but his friend had spoken at lengths about his evil family and their deeds. Breunor recognized the name Dinin from Drizzt's stories.

"Ye staged this entire attack on my kingdom just to capture Drizzt?" Breunor had trouble believing in the single-minded purpose for the drow's attack on his people.