The Dream Spheres (29 page)

“Strange that you should be seeking answers from me,” Myrna purred, clearly enjoying herself. “There are others who could tell you for a smaller fee, or none at all. I do not complain, mind you.”

Danilo was in no mood to spar. “For a simple answer, speedily delivered, you might expect an extra bottle.”

The woman pouted. “Oh, very well. The favored rumors suggest that the theft was the work of insiders. The bandits were too well and cannily armed, and they lay hidden in wait in the very place the caravan used as a rest stop on the way north. Most are suspicious of Elaith Craulnober, of course. He traveled to Silverymoon with the caravan but not back. Yet many saw him take part in the battle. He disappeared soon after, riding a Gundwynd pegasus.”

This news was disturbing but not entirely unexpected. Whether the elf had a part in the theft or not, he would be suspected. “And Bronwyn?”

“Who?”

“The young woman who keeps The Curious Past. You have been in her shop at least a dozen times. Small woman, long brown hair, big eyes.”

“Oh, her.” The noblewoman’s tone was dismissive, almost disdainful.

“Do you know how she fared?” Danilo persisted.

Myrna shrugged, looking none too pleased to be presented with questions for which she had no answers—even if the subject of inquiry was nothing but a common

little shopkeeper. “Ask the elf. He was there.”

She pointed to the far side of the room. Danilo’s eyes widened as they settled on a tall, slender figure clad in deep purple and silver. Elaith had chosen an elaborate costume of an era long past, worn by elves and humans alike in the ancient courts of Tethyr. Either the elf was being unusually diplomatic or his costume was the equivalent of a green cloak in the forest—an attempt to blend in. Many wore the purple of Tethyr in Haedrak’s honor.

Danilo made his way across to the elf as quickly as he could navigate the crowd. “You have had an eventful trip, I hear,” he began.

The elf gave him a faint, mocking smile. “Let us dispense with the usual pleasantries and get to the meat of the matter. When I left Bronwyn, she was in good health, if poor company. She is a most resourceful young woman. Most resourceful,” he added with rueful emphasis.

Danilo was beginning to see the shape of things. He also felt more than a little guilty about agreeing to have Elaith watched and followed. “I am always glad to hear word of Bronwyn,” he said carefully. “She is an old friend.”

“And a new Harper,” the elf said. “Spare me the sophistry. I am watched by the Harpers and others. This is nothing new. Whether you had a hand in Bronwyn’s task or not, I neither know nor care. Either way, I’m sure you are interested in the outcome.”

“Well, now that you mention it.”

“Both Bronwyn and I lost treasure in the raid-for which, I assure you, I was not responsible.”

These statements set Danilo back on his heels. “Well, so much for the deft feint, the clever exchange of attack and parry. I am disarmed before I draw my sword.”

The elf lifted one silver eyebrow. “Is that so? You accept my word on the matter so easily?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Many people would name your credulity unwise,” Elaith pointed out. “Not without reason.”

Danilo shrugged. That was true enough, but his instincts told him the elf had spoken truth. He was very interested to hear what Bronwyn would have to say about the encounter, but he’d had no reason to doubt Elaith’s word since the day the elf had made the pledge of Elf-friend. Indeed, Elaith had been amazingly forthright-in some ways, more so than Danilo himself had been. He had arranged to have Elaith followed and watched, and now he found himself on the verge of abandoning the responsibility such pledges entailed.

“There has been some little excitement here, as well,” he began. In a few words he told the elf about his newfound sister. “Arilyn and I will travel east to meet her in Suzail.”

Elaith studied him, his amber eyes unreadable. “Why do you tell me this?”

“Apart from making polite conversation?” he returned with a grin. His smile quickly faded. “I must confess some regret at the prospect of leaving the city. You were attacked by tren and may yet be in danger. The pledge of Elf-friend binds two ways. I am hesitant to leave while this matter is unresolved. Arilyn, even more so.”

“Arilyn?” This intelligence seemed to surprise the elf. “Not on my behalf, surely?”

“Not precisely,” Danilo said, though the expression on Elaith’s face made him wish he could answer otherwise. As you know, of late Arilyn’s moonblade has taken to summoning her to duty. Since it has been silent for some time now she is convinced that her duty to the People lies here in Waterdeep. Perhaps your recent misadventures have a part in that.”

“That, I doubt,” Elaith said lightly. “Do not consider the matter. By all means, accompany your newfound sister to Suzail. Winter in Waterdeep is often a dreary

affair. You would do well to escape it.”

Danilo did not miss the hint of irony in the elf’s tone—and the warning. He responded to both. “Somehow, I rather doubt that this year’s freeze will be without diversion.”

Elaith’s smile never touched his eyes, which were as golden and full of secrets as a cat’s. “Yes, I daresay you could be quite right.”

Arilyn’s respect for Danilo grew as the night wore on. She doggedly worked her way through her dance card, moving from one dance partner to another and trying to learn something of value from each. She kept telling herself it was not so very different from her days as an apprentice swordmaster. The intricate dances were more easily mastered than the scores and scores of forms and routines she had practiced in her youth. Anticipating the movements of a dance partner or an entire circle was not entirely dissimilar to battle. The feint and parry of the nobles’ flirtatious banter had a great deal in common with duel, and the backstabbing jabs of their subtly brutal gossip were as keen and deft as any assassin’s blade. By midnight, however, Arilyn was exhausted. Her jaws ached from holding her tight, false smile—and from holding back tart comments.

That was especially difficult when it came to discussion of the Tethyr Reclamation. Arilyn was still smarting from her involvement in that country’s woes. She had spent months posing as a member of the assassin’s guild, learning about the country’s powerful and would-be powerful by sifting through the detritus of their secret actions, their worse impulses. Her last mission for the Harpers had been the “rescue” of Isabeau Thione. The removal of a possible heir from Tethyr solidified Zaranda’s claim, as well as the power of the Tethyrian

nobles who supported the new queen. Arilyn had been willing to do nearly anything in support of the Harpers, but she knew far too much about the people whom the Harpers supported. Her protests had been dismissed with arguments of political expediency, safe trade routes, and important alliances. Nor did it seem to matter to anyone that Isabeau quickly proved to be just as reprehensible as the worst of Tethyrian nobility. She was feted in Waterdeep, supported in part by Harper funds. Arilyn had quit the Harpers in disgust and turned her full attention to her elven duty. Yet here she was, dancing with Tethyr’s next king and exchanging light conversation with a roomful of nobles, knowing all the while that someone in the room might have ordered and paid for her death.

However, at Galinda Raventree’s balls, such grim topics seemed utterly foreign. There was still no talk of Oth Eltorchul’s death. The only explanation for this that Arilyn could fashion was that Errya Eltorchul had elected to keep this news quiet as long as possible, hoping to peddle spells and potions created by the family’s students and pass them off as her brother’s work. One thing seemed certain: the Eltorchul fortunes would plunge when the news became common knowledge. Arilyn had liked the Eltorchul patriarch, and she doubted that he would resort to subterfuge, but it was possible that he, in his grief, gave too free a hand to his venal daughter.

On the other hand, the story of the ambushed caravan was the second-most popular theme of the evening— outshining even the tawdry, overfed imitation elves that strutted about in much green and brown paint and little else.

Arilyn listened closely to what was told to her and what was spoken nearby. She constructed two main stories from the disparate and often conflicting parts. One school of thought held that the theft was orchestrated

by the elf lord. The other rumor, spoken in softer tones but having the extra appeal of conspiracy and betrayal, suggested that the traitor was one of the families in the consortium that sponsored the caravan.

Lord Gundwynd was the lowest on the list of likely villains-at least, on such lists as the merchant nobility might fashion. He had supplied the flying mounts and the elven guards, and his losses were enormous. On the other hand, the elven minstrels noted with considerable bitterness that Gundwynd had used his elven hirelings in much the same fashion that orcs deployed goblin troops in battle: to draw enemy fire and reveal position, buying time for the “more valuable” fighters to assess the situation. The elves were not claiming that Gundwynd had orchestrated the ambush-not quite—but their opinion of the man and his methods was not far above that mark.

The Amcathra clan, dealers in fine weapons, lost some of the valuable swords and daggers fashioned by their craftsmen in Silverymoon, but the fine, upstanding reputation enjoyed by the Amcathra clan held too high a gloss to hold much tarnish.

Ilzimmer, on the other hand, suffered from a reputation that had been quilted together from scores of small scandals. Boraldan Ilzimmer, the clan’s patriarch and not a well-liked man, had expected to receive a small fortune in crystal and gems on the westbound caravan. Of course, after Myrna’s rumors made the rounds, no one was certain how much of his stated loss was truly gemstone and how much of it was worthless bits of colored rock.

And then there was the Thann family, who seemed to have a finger in nearly every pie in the city, at least as far as the shipping of goods was concerned. Their loss, by all reports, was not great and was limited to their investment in this new mode of travel. It was an investment, if indeed they had also informed and funded the

bandits, that might have paid off quickly and handsomely.

These speculations troubled Arilyn deeply. If she remembered her history, war among the families of Waterdeep was nothing new, and she did not relish the possibility of seeing old times return.

Arilyn sought Lady Cassandra in the crowd. The noblewoman was dressed in a shimmering silver-blue gown that suggested, but did not precisely imitate, a mermaid’s scales. She looked as serene and collected as ever, and her demeanor gave no sign that she had heard the rumors at all, much less that they gave her any cause for concern.

On the other hand, Arilyn noted that the noblewoman gave her respects to Galinda Raventree at an unusually early hour. Arilyn followed the older woman to her carriage and slipped inside before the startled groom could bar the door.

“It’s all right, Nelson,” Lady Cassandra said in a resigned voice. She moved over to make room, pointedly eyeing the wings on Arilyn’s costume. “Tell the driver to circle the block.”

She did not speak to Arilyn until the creak and rumble of the carriage gave cover to their words. She batted aside a lazily drifting feather. “There is trouble in the Land of Faerie? Molting is often a sign of distress.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Almost glad for the excuse, Arilyn tore the annoying wings from her shoulders and impatiently flung them out the window.

“I trust this is important?”

“You tell me.” She quickly apprised the noblewoman of the situation. Not once did Cassandra’s expression give a hint of worry or dismay.

“The rumors are not entirely off target,” she said cautiously. “Thann losses were not very great, that much is true, but it is inconceivable that one of the consortium partners betrayed the others.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“The answer should be obvious,” the noblewoman said. “Consider our past—the devastation of the Guild Wars when the families battled in the streets. There is no clan so foolish as to believe they could succeed in such an endeavor, and so none would engage in so blatant a challenge. Only outsiders, those who attempt to wedge their foot inside the door, would attempt such a ridiculous thing.”

“Not so ridiculous,” the half-elf pointed out. “By all reports, at least twoscore men and elves died in that ambush. The cargo is gone. Some might call that success.”

The noblewoman gave Arilyn a supercilious smile. “Rumors are like drunken men,” she observed. “Most of the time they babble nonsense, but sometimes a truth slips out that would otherwise be unspoken.”

“Such as?”

“Let us consider Elaith Craulnober. Few have dared accuse the elf lord before, or if they did, they often dropped their accusation before the Lords Council met for judgment. Those few who persisted in their suit were never able to trail the elf’s misdeeds to the source. This time, however, Craulnober has overstepped, and the truth about him is being spoken aloud.”

“That, I doubt,” Arilyn said without hesitation. “I have known Elaith for several years. I certainly won’t argue that he is without stain, but never have I known him to act so openly or foolishly. There is a reason why his misdeeds are so hard to trace. He is clever.”

“So was the theft of the air caravan.”

“I’ve seen better,” the half-elf said bluntly. “The ambush required information and planning, but little cunning. I do not see Elaith’s hand in this.”

Cassandra affixed her with a look of cold incredulity. “You defend him?”

“I’m just trying to see all the runes on the page. There is something more going on than a single bandit

attack. Danilo said that he told you Oth Eltorchul was killed by tren assassins. Elaith was recently attacked by similar assassins—in your villa.”

The noblewoman’s steady gaze did not falter at any part of this litany. “You hold Thann responsible for this, I suppose.”

“Not yet,” Arilyn returned, “but it is possible that Elaith might.”

“I see your point,” the woman allowed, “but that is all the more reason for him to take vengeance on one of our business interests.”