The fire burned low, for Entreri did not want to draw attention to himself. The sun was just creeping over the rolling plains to the east and was too slow - in Entreri's estimation - in removing the night's chill. He had stolen a horse from the poor section of Karenstoch and had ridden through the night. He had not noticed the cool temperature, but now that he had stopped to give his horse a rest, he felt the stiff breeze and built a fire.

The sun cleared the hills suddenly and hit him full in the face. He squinted, turning away from the glare. Entreri moved his position in front of the fire, so his back was now to the rising sun, letting the powerful rays heat his black cloak. Within moments he was sufficiently warm and was able to relax. The memory from the sunrise was still vivid in his mind, and the blotches had not entirely left his vision.

Entreri's thoughts went suddenly to his long-time nemesis, Drizzt. He knew the stories about Drizzt's journey to the surface and his struggle for acceptance. He had made several enemies and friends immediately upon his emergence from the Underdark. In the years after Entreri's own escape from the Underdark and before his return to Calimport, the assassin had spent a lot of time researching the dark elf's history, wanting to know more about the only fighter he considered his equal.

While Entreri had not found out everything about Drizzt, he had found enough, and knowing what he did about the drow, he could fill in the rest. Drizzt must have gone through hundreds of painful sunrises, ten times more painful than what Entreri had experienced. His rejections from each town and city he visited were also far more trying than what Entreri had just gone through.

While Entreri had not appreciated his rejection from Karenstoch, he also knew it was his own fault. Drizzt's rejections had all been unjust. Still, the dark elf had searched and searched until he had finally become accepted, not as an evil drow but as a ranger and a protector. He won praise and acceptance of the most influential and respected people in the north, and through their favor, the entire Sword Coast welcomed him with open arms.

Entreri smirked at the idea of any city welcoming him into their gates. Likely, if Karenstoch had known the true depth of the man they had rejected, they would hire an army to fetch him and rid the evil presence from their land. At this thought, Entreri looked up, back west, wondering if anyone would give chase. Entreri remembered hearing about the ranger - Elliorn, Riechen had called her - that lived in the north woods and began to worry.

Entreri tried to think of a good reason why the city’s people would go to the trouble. Entreri counted to twelve - the number of bodies he had left behind. They were not all good reasons for chasing him down, but three of them had been city guards, and the guards had sent the last four to collect him.

Nothing was visible to the west, but Entreri knew that he would be hard-pressed to outrun a ranger no matter how far behind she might be. If Entreri's long-lasting struggle with Drizzt had done anything, it had given him well-founded respect for those of the elf's profession.

Entreri kicked dirt over his fire and saddled up his horse. He had stopped on the edge of a copse of trees several hundred feet south of the river and the road that ran alongside it. Entreri had looked at the maps he had taken from Riechen's room and knew another small town about four hours further to the east.

Entreri rode swiftly, suddenly having a bad feeling he might have left too many witnesses back in Karenstoch. For the rest of the trip, he constantly looked over his shoulder. Several times he swore he saw someone, and a few times, he almost convinced himself that he should wait for whoever it was. He did not, and he reached the town an hour sooner than he had expected.

The small town, for it could not really be called a city, was a miniature version of Karenstoch. The roads were not dusty but paved with hard clay. The buildings were all less than four stories and positioned in a structured layout, divided into rectangular blocks. This town was little more than a rest stop for travelers moving between larger cities.

There were two taverns, and Entreri picked one at random. He knew that if anyone was following - a possibility he had finally managed to convince himself was remote at best - they were at least twelve hours behind him. The assassin had not eaten since the tavern the night before when he had run into Borrel Kierston, and then he had not been able to finish his meal. He ordered a drink and some stew and took a seat in the corner.

Entreri was so lost in thought he did not notice the woman's approach until she was only ten feet from his table. Though he was taken by surprise at his lack of awareness, he had such complete body control that if anyone was watching him - there were several around the room - they would have only thought he had found a tough piece of meat in his stew.

At first, Entreri worried that the ranger had been much quicker in her pursuit than he had thought possible. One look at the woman as she walked to the other side of his table and sat down assured Entreri that his worries were completely unfounded. Unless being a ranger in this strange land meant something far different than it did back home, this woman was not one.

She looked far more interested in peddling her wares, wares of which she had an ample supply. Wares that she flaunted boldly with a tight, low-cut top and barely more than a hand towel of a skirt. She was undeniably beautiful, which was Entreri's first clue that something was wrong.

Beautiful women did not become whores. They did not need to. Prostitution was a last resort. Back home, a dangerous land where only the strong could survive and prosper, women had a hard life. But even then, if you were attractive and young, you could always find a dozen potential husbands in every city block. Besides that, several women took it upon themselves to start their own businesses or proved they were just as strong or resourceful as most men and had no problem surviving. Sharlotta Vespers and Catti-brie came to mind most readily to Entreri.

It was only the fat, ugly, old, or dim women that needed to resort to the profession of which Entreri's new companion pretended to belong. Back home, the men who did not make it became beggars, and the women became prostitutes. But here, in a land that was not as harsh by far, women no doubt had a much easier time of it. Entreri knew that to think for a moment that the woman across from him had to resort to prostitution to survive would be one of the gravest mistakes he could ever make.

The woman moved with supreme grace, and though she had few places on her body where a weapon could be concealed, he doubted she was without protection. Then he saw it. It was a move that most men would never catch. While most men would have their eyes focusing much lower on her body, Entreri was looking at this woman's eyes. They made a brief move to the side and then returned to her prey.

To the trained assassin, the glance was as obvious a sign as if she had stood and pointed to the two men in the center of the room and said, “These men are with me, and if you try anything funny, you will get hurt.” The woman overlooked Entreri's perceptiveness but instead smiled and glanced at his mug, the amber liquid inside barely covering the bottom.

Entreri fought against every hormone in his being as he pulled his eyes away from her face and worked on cleaning off his plate. She was insanely beautiful. “It looks like you need a refill,” she said coyly.

Entreri sighed. Why was it that trouble always gravitated toward him? Of course, looking at this situation from a logical point of view told him it had nothing to do with his dark profession and everything to do with the fact that he looked like a wealthy traveler. If the woman only knew how rich . . .

Entreri wiped his mouth and looked casually at the bartender, though his eyes were searching out the two men the woman had earlier pointed out to him. The troupe probably worked half a dozen travelers a week. This town was called Halfway, for it was halfway to at least five different cities. Each was a little less than a day's travel away, and this town made an excellent stopover for anyone traveling between them.

Entreri looked back at the woman and smiled. “But alas, I have spent my last coin on what you see before me, and I do not have the means to refill my glass.”

The assassin said the words with more than a bit of theatrics, and the woman laughed. “Indeed, you look like a beggar from the streets, one who can only scrape together enough money for one meal a week if you're lucky. Well then, beggar, consider yourself lucky.” The woman motioned to the bartender. “Please, good sir, could you refill my friend's glass.”

The bartender looked quickly at Entreri, for while the woman had made the order, the bartender was not so foolish as to think she would pay for it. “You may refill my glass with what I had originally ordered,” Entreri said. The bartender nodded and came over with a full glass.

Entreri lifted the large mug and drained half of it in one swig. The woman's eyes went wide at this display; Entreri would be drunk in no time. “Thank you, good woman, for surely the road was dry this morning.”

“The road?” the woman asked, feigning confusion. “I thought you were a beggar from the street?”

Entreri tried to show shock, but acting had never been his strong suit. Instead, he moved to more pressing matters. “And to whom do I thank for this generosity?”

“My name? My name is Alice, but that is not important. What is important is that you have a pleasant stay here. That is my job.”

“Your job is to buy drinks for weary travelers. Is that the only service you provide?”

“It is one of many,” she said, leaning forward toward Entreri so he could see clearly down her top.

Entreri indulged himself for a brief while, for it was an incredible view, and then drained the rest of his drink. The empty glass was no sooner back on the table, and Alice beckoned for another. “And how much do these services cost?” Entreri asked as another full glass was placed on his table.

The woman sat up straight, becoming suddenly modest. “They are not too expensive, but, alas, you are but a beggar and could not afford them.” Entreri thought this looked like an easy way to get out of this fix and went to work on his third glass. The woman saw this reluctance and quickly went on, leaning forward again to make sure Entreri knew what he was passing up. “Though for a beggar as handsome as you, I might be able to offer a discount.”

“Flattery?” Entreri asked, amazingly draining the last of his glass again, a consumption rate that should have knocked out most men.

“Honesty,” the woman said, though she was no longer looking at him, but instead had her eyes searching out her friends again. “Perhaps we could go discuss our terms in a more private setting.”

“I like it right here,” Entreri said, his speech starting to slur. He was staring intently at the woman now, and she was giving him plenty to look at.

The woman watched as her two big friends got up and walked toward their table. “But it is so crowded. I don't think you want a bunch of people watching us, do you?”

The two men behind Entreri were sitting down at a nearby table, and the woman leaned back in her chair, pulling her top even tighter against her full chest. She slid one of her thumbs under a shoulder strap and playfully pulled it down her smooth arm. “Come on, let's go upstairs.”

Entreri's eyes were now glazed over, and he slumped in his chair, his mouth so wide open that his female companion wondered if her two friends were not going to have to carry his drunk body upstairs before they robbed him. As Entreri slumped in his chair, he stretched his leg out under the table. With the seductress still leaning back in her chair, Entreri exploded into motion.

His outstretched foot kicked up hard against the bottom rung of the woman's chair, toppling her backward to the floor. Entreri, too, rolled to the floor, and both men who had been waiting behind the couple stood suddenly, worried something was up. Entreri stood suddenly on the other side of the table with Alice's head secured tightly in an arm lock.

“Let me go, you drunk bastard!” she pounded on his arm with both fists. “Get your mitts off me!”

Suddenly she felt a small prick in her side and all fight went out of her. “That's better,” Entreri said quietly in her ear, his dagger twisting slightly in her side. She gasped sharply at the twist and inhaled the aroma of his breath. Apples? She looked back to his empty glass on the table. “I like cider,” Entreri laughed into her ear. “Now tell your goons to back off.”

The woman was so terrified by the trick and the dagger stealing her soul she had not even noticed that the rest of the tavern had gone completely quiet, and her two friends were standing with swords ready. She could not speak, but the look on her face told the men plenty.

“Let go of her,” one man said. Neither of them realized that Entreri knew what their game was. They thought he was a drunk that had lost control and just wanted Alice's company without paying. “We have rules here, stranger, and women are not to be treated so.”

“But men, especially strange rich men, are to be treated like free gold. Is that it? Was I just supposed to blindly follow your fair maiden upstairs where you could jump me?”

The two men panicked briefly and then regained their composure. “I don't know what you're talking about. Are you accusing us of trying to rob you? That's preposterous. You are assaulting a lady, and when we jump to her protection, you accuse us of a crime.”

Entreri jabbed his dagger a little deeper into the woman's side, drawing a nice trickle of blood down her bare midriff and reducing her to little more than a quivering, limp body. “Please, your friend here deserves better than the punishment you force me to place upon her. I wish nothing but to pass through this town without incident.”

“I don't see how that will be possible now,” one of the men said, the tone of his voice letting Entreri know the men were no longer pretending innocence. “Why don't you let her go before we are forced to kill you.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Entreri saw motion and dropped. He tossed the woman to the side and rolled to the ground as a crossbow bolt came at him from the side and thudded into the wall above him. Entreri had his sword out to accompany his dagger and met the charge of both men as soon as he rose from the floor.

They attacked in unison well, one creating a hole and the other attacking through it. They blocked each other and took turns on offense to avoid getting in each other's way. They did very well, meaning they lasted four entire seconds.

Entreri swept both initial attacks aside with his dirk. He then continued to turn around, letting his cape flair out as if he was turning to run. Instead, he came completely around, jabbing forward with both blades. The men had gone for the fake and had shifted their weight forward in pursuit when Entreri thrust ahead. Their weapons were raised and were not able to block the attack.

Both men fell to the side, and Entreri chased them by throwing his weapons out wide. The dagger sliced cleanly under one man's upraised arm, and the other caught Entreri's sword hilt in the back of the head. Entreri stepped through the hole the men had made for him and went straight for the door to the tavern.

The man who had taken the cut across the ribs dropped his weapon and grabbed his bleeding side. The other man stumbled under the head blow and tripped over Alice where Entreri had dropped her. Neither was quick to give chase.

Entreri burst through the batwing doors, cut through the rope that tied his horse to the hitching rail, and leaped onto the animal. He raced down the street for a block and then turned the horse down an alley. He rolled off his mount and took a position at the corner of the alley, peering back at the tavern. He waited for over a minute, but no one came out of the tavern, and no one appeared to be giving chase.

Entreri relaxed, sheathing his weapons and turning to calm his spooked horse. He could have killed the men back in the tavern. It was a thought that hung with him as he slowly climbed back into the saddle. He could have very easily jabbed his dagger a little deeper or reversed his dirk so that his blade and not the hilt had connected with the other man's head. Not only had he not made any killing blows, but he had consciously withheld them.

In Calimport, if you did not kill your enemies when you had the chance, you allowed them to ambush you later. It was not a boxing match. There were no second or third rounds. Once both sides were called out, it was finished then and there.

While he had no intention of staying in this small town for more than a day, Entreri did not want to leave the same bloody trail he had left in Karenstoch. It just wasn’t wise. Besides, there was no reason to kill those men back there. They were not real fighters and mainly worked on rolling drunks. They would realize that today they let one get away and would leave it at that, learning from their mistakes and moving on. At least, that was what Entreri hoped.

The general store was a half-mile down the main street and then left on a much smaller side street. While Entreri had access to an incredible selection of weapons and tools in the dragon cave, most of them were coated in gold or decorated with gems and diamonds. He needed things that would not call that much attention to himself.

Entreri tied his horse with the shortened rope and entered the store. Few people needed traveling supplies, for the towns were spaced so it never took more than a day to get anywhere, but Entreri thought it best if he stayed out of cities for a while until he could come to terms with what he was going to do with the rest of his life.

The selection was not great, and without the clerk’s help, it took Entreri half an hour to find everything he wanted. In the chaotic mess of the store, he located a collapsible shovel, a hatchet, a few rudimentary cooking supplies, a saw, and an old tarp that was not torn too severely. Entreri could have just as easily walked out of the store with the items, but he paid for them and then made his way to the door.

His horse was gone. Entreri just about lost it right there. Would they ever just leave him alone? It did not matter how many times he showed them he was not to be messed with. The more lessons he gave, the more people came after him. It had taken years for the city of Calimport to realize that you did not stand in the way of Artemis Entreri. If he were passing through, you would do nothing to hinder him and everything to aid him, thankful that he had no business in your neighborhood.

Entreri slung the pack of his new belongings over his shoulder and walked a short way from the front of the store. His horse had not been led far, and his sharp eyes picked it out at the end of a dark alley. The trap was clear, and Entreri hoped the people he was dealing with knew that. If they expected him to believe his horse had just wandered into the darkest dead-end alley on the block all by himself, then Entreri would not bother with them and would walk out of town.

The horse was eating from a cart of hay that just happened to be at the end of the alley, and Entreri walked up to it. He threw his pack onto the back of his horse and turned around. There were five men with weapons bared blocking the alley entrance. Two of them held short bows, and the other three carried swords. In front of them stood Alice. She wore a cloak now, covering up her occupational attire.

Entreri was at his wit's end. He never got into this many fights in a month back in Calimport. “I offer a lot of services,” Alice said, her voice very different from before. “Perhaps you'll like this one better.”

Looking back, maybe he should have followed her upstairs. The men probably would not have injured him, plus there would have been the chance to see more of Alice. Entreri discarded these thoughts as soon as they entered his mind. That had been the one difference between him and everyone else in Calimport. He had a dragon's treasure at his disposal, and the few dozen gold coins he had on him now were hardly worth counting. Still, he had fought for them like they were the last riches he would ever see.

Most other killers he had known would have willingly given up twice that amount for a chance alone with Alice, even knowing that it was a setup. The difference was pride. Entreri just could not give in when he knew he was the stronger. That pride had lifted him to the top, for he would always repay any infraction, no matter how slight, with the severest of penalties. After a while, no one ever crossed him.

If he just rolled over any time someone slighted him, even though the infraction had no repercussions at all, it would have opened him as a target for all others. Now, Entreri looked at the five thugs in front of him and their female leader. Could he take them out? Probably. Would it gain him any respect? In Calimport, definitely. Here, probably not. Here fear did not spawn respect as it did back home.

What if he succumbed to these people? Entreri honestly did not know what they would do. He would find out. “How much do you want?” he asked.

Alice looked surprised. “How much do you have?”

Entreri reached behind him and detached the two coin bags that hung from his belt. One contained silver coins, the other gold. He tossed them both to the feet of Alice, who stood a little over twenty feet away.

“Is that all?” Alice asked, though Entreri could tell she was impressed by the weight of the bags. Entreri nodded. “And if we search you and find more?”

Entreri stiffened. They would never search him. No one had ever searched him. It was his pride, he knew, but he would not relinquish everything in this encounter. Baby steps. Still, he flipped up his cape and turned around, showing them nothing else hung from his belt but his sword and nothing inside his vest other than his jeweled dagger. He had another dagger strapped to his left calf, and a set of lock picks on a chain around his neck, but they did not need to see everything.

“What about the dagger?” Alice asked. She had felt the blade against her side, and even if she did not suspect it to be magical, she knew it was part of this stranger's repertoire. She had been humbled, and now she wished to return the favor.

“What about it?” Entreri asked. He felt he had been very reasonable so far.

“Give us the dagger and the two bags, and you can go. Just remember that if we ever catch you in our town again, you will not get off so easy.” The men behind her relaxed, not once guessing that this man would turn down such an offer when he was so outnumbered. Everyone watched as Entreri's left hand went slowly for his dagger and failed to see his right creep back for his pack.

He pulled the dagger out slowly. “You want this? You can have it . . . after you take it from my corpse!” His right hand yanked the tarp out of his pack and flung it directly in front of him. The sheet opened up to its full ten by six-foot size, hiding the assassin from view momentarily.

Both bowmen shot into the tarp instinctively, but Entreri was already running around the side of it. He had both blades drawn and ran directly at Alice. She had pulled out a throwing dagger but froze in fright at the sight of death running straight for her. He bowled her into the man behind and then spun to meet the two men that had stood to her left.

One of the two men had a bow, and the other a rapier. Entreri locked blades with the swordsman and sent a leg out to disrupt the bowman. The first man took a step backward, disengaging their weapons, realizing the further he could spread the fight, the harder it would be for Entreri to take them both on.

Entreri turned his back on the swordsman to focus on the bowman. Despite realizing he needed to spread the fight, the stupid fighter could not pass up the chance to hit Entreri in the back. He charged in quickly and swung high to cut off the assassin's head.

Entreri dropped to a crouch and spun about with both arms out wide. His sword knocked the short bow out of the hands of one opponent while the dagger impaled the charging man from the other side. The man had swung high, his blade passing just over Entreri's crouched head, and now he fell forward. Entreri withdrew his dagger and stepped back, rising again.

He looked forward and saw only the tip of an arrow aimed right at his chest. He fell as quickly as he had risen, rolling over his first victim. The archer across the alley had been so startled to get a clear shot that he had not thought it through and fired. The arrow zipped over Entreri's rolling form and nailed the other bowman to the wooden wall behind him.

Entreri came out of his roll and kicked the man Alice had initially knocked over. He stepped over him and approached the last two men. One of them came at Entreri with his sword while the other hastily knocked another arrow.

Entreri unleashed on this swordsman, dealing more blows to him in the first two seconds of the battle than the man had taken over his entire life. He had not even managed one offensive attack before Entreri had placed at least five fatal wounds on him.

The bowman behind thought he would have at least two seconds to load an arrow, but when he looked up after that time, his dead companion was falling back into him. The dead man's back struck the tip of the knocked arrow, and the startled archer released the other end of the shaft. The bowstring snapped taut, driving the shaft even further into the man's back.

Entreri did not slow at the sight in front of him but spun around with his sword warding off the expected attack from behind. The kicked man had risen, and Entreri's sweeping blade disarmed him - literally. The arm was severed just below the elbow, and the man howled in pain as his sword fell naturally to the ground.

The killer did not pause in the slightest, continuing to spin around and launching his dagger at the stunned archer. The man futilely tried to dodge the strike by pressing his body tight against the alley wall but realized too late that the dagger was not swinging at him but thrown. The twelve-inch blade sunk deep into his neck, securing itself into the wall behind him.

Entreri spun about once more, completing the two revolutions and sending his sword on a mission to find the remaining thug's neck. The injured man had barely recognized his massive wound and had only started to grab his bloody stump of an arm when Entreri's dirk cut above his shoulders, placing his head and, soon after, the rest of his body on the ground next to the severed arm.

Alice had witnessed this entire display from the ground, wisely not rising to meet Entreri's blades. She watched now as he strolled over to pull his dagger from the neck of the second archer. The man's body slumped to the alley floor, his hands still clawing at his gurgling neck as if he might be able to stop the awful flow of blood.

Entreri turned his back on the man, bending only briefly to wipe his blades on the shirt of one of the other less fortunate ones. Then he spotted Alice. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and tried to scoot away. Entreri stepped on her leg, and her hand slipped in the gravel, slamming her back to the ground.

Entreri jumped on her, straddling her waist. His dagger quickly clipped the two ties that closed the front of her cloak and revealed her risqué outfit underneath. Her face was terror-stricken, and Entreri placed the tip of his dagger into the soft skin under her chin.

“Know that I could take you right now,” he said coldly, looking briefly down at her shapely body, “but I won't. Know that I could kill you right now, but I won't. Know that I offered you a very fair deal a few moments ago, but you refused. Know that you brought this upon yourself. Know that you are responsible for this massacre, not me. I was just a traveler that deserved none of the attention you paid me. Know this and tell this to anyone who comes after me asking questions. Know this and live. Forget this, and I will come for you.”

Entreri stood quickly, looking briefly at the two bags of gold. He shrugged his shoulders, walked back to his horse, and rode out of the alleyway. Ten short minutes later, he was headed southeast out of town, one of the few directions where one would not find a city within a day's ride.

He had now left three obvious signs in his wake. Cailring, Cairon, and now Alice. All three would show any potential tracker clearly what kind of man they chased. All three were told to tell a story that left Entreri guiltless. All three also clearly showed what would happen to anyone who might catch the assassin. Entreri hoped that if he were being followed, the tracker would see these signs for what they were. He hoped they would leave him alone.