Lynthalsea cringed as the point of the glowing iron was thrust into the hole left by her blade. The acrid smell of seared flesh and burned poison floated on the wisps of smoke.
"Send for a healer!" Shay bellowed to the few daring to peek from behind overturned furniture. "Tell them there have been poisonings." As Shay turned back, another thought struck him.
"Avari!"
"You think she's in danger as well?" Lynthalsea asked.
"Nekdukarr are thorough, if nothing else." Shay glanced from DoHeney to the door and back. The dwarf's face grew ever grayer, and his breaths came in gasps. "I cannot leave him, Lynthalsea. We must get word to Avari!"
"I can find her!" She lowered DoHeney, then pulled off her boots. "Her scent should be easy to follow!"
Lynthalsea peeled out of her pants and bolted across the room, shedding her tunic as she ran. Startled patrons jumped out of the way, none knowing what to make of the naked elf who transformed as she loped toward the door. A wolf bounded from the inn, her nose an inch from the ground, sifting through the maze of scents for the one that belonged to her friend.
Here! Avari entered the carriage here. The elf picked up the new scent of the carriage and raced down the street.
"May Tem protect your steps," Shay whispered after her. "May Tem protect us all..."
Avari was in a quandary: she could not attend to both the delicious food and Captain Thallon. When she was savoring a particularly wonderful bite of her meal—a tender prime rib of beef surrounded by spicy shrimp and tiny new potatoes in butter—Yen's voice faded into the background music. But when she listened closely, she made mistakes with her food, like biting into a shrimp before peeling it. To make matters worse, her dress insisted on migrating off first one shoulder, then the other, exposing more flesh than seemed proper.
The restaurant was elegant without seeming pretentious. Candlelight lent an intimate atmosphere to the large room, golden light gleaming off the white marble floors, satin-covered walls, and crisp white tablecloths. Gold provided the only touch of color; the goblets, the tableware, the filigree planters, all were fashioned of that precious metal. Avari had a suspicion that the color scheme was a factor in Yenjil's choice of the place. The candlelight glittered along the gold of her dress and the gold in her ears and hair, as if she were part of the luxurious décor.
Don't get too taken with yourself, Avari, she chastised. Tomorrow it's back to boots and pants and plain wooden tables. She peeled another shrimp and popped it into her mouth. Yuuummmm. Now she could listen for a few minutes.
"... middle of the treaty table, the dwarf emissary expressed his theory concerning why elves had pointed ears. It could have meant war, except for the elfin emissary's retort."
"What did he say?" Avari prodded, sipping her wine.
"He said..." Yenjil paused to watch Avari drink, "that if the ears of elves were for their wives to lead them around by, perhaps the gods put beards on dwarves for the same reason."
As Avari coughed and sputtered, trying not to spray wine across the table, two waiters materialized from nowhere.
"Is there something wrong with your wine, milady?"
Avari, of course, was in no condition to answer. The captain lent her his napkin and assured them that everything was fine.
When she could breathe, she fixed him with a scowl, and said, "If I didn't know that you were an honored military officer, I would have thought you did that on purpose."
"Why, milady," Yenjil said, feigning indignation, "such a thought would never enter the mind of an honored military officer." He leaned closer, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "My true intention was to gain another glimpse of your exquisite shoulder by causing your dress to slip again."
Avari's hands shot to her shoulders, but found her dress in place. She scowled, but was confronted by a boyish grin utterly lacking malice. Two can play this game, she thought, leveling a smoldering look at him that caused his grin to stumble.
"Captain Yenjil Thallon..." Avari said in a sultry tone. She leaned toward him, resting her elbows on the table. Her hands slid slowly down her shoulders, taking the draping cowl of her dress with them. She nearly ruined the prank by giggling as his expression dissolved into one of discomfort.
"...a respected officer of the city guard." As the folds of her dress slipped off her shoulders, his eyes widened in worry.
"What would the emperor think if his military right hand was seen in public with a seducer of elderly military gentlemen..." She arched one eyebrow with evil mischief, "...disrobed to the waist?"
Yenjil's worry turned to horror, sweat beading on his brow.
"Well, is this enough shoulder, or would you like to see more?" Her dress hung precariously close to indecency.
Yenjil gulped and shook his head. A shrug brought her dress back into place, and Avari drew the small golden dagger from the sheath strapped to her arm. She spun it in her palm, gripped it like a steak knife and skewered a piece of beef from his plate.
"That's the trouble with things disguised in finery, don't you think, Captain?" She relished his stunned look as she took the bite. "They may look fair, but there's no way to tell how sharp they are underneath." Avari returned the dagger to its sheath, ending the flourish with a sip of wine and a predatory smile.
"Milady," the captain said, dabbing his brow with a sleeve, "I have been duly chastised. You will be the point of no more jests this night." He raised his glass in toast. "To truce then?"
"And to a bit of business mixed with the night's enjoyment," she said as their glasses rang with a pure note.
"Business?" he asked after a sip of his wine.
"Don't you remember the reason I agreed to accompany you tonight?" She saw from his expression that he had hoped to avoid this discussion. "We need a guide, and... I'd still like to buy one of your war-trained mounts."
"The best guides to the north are not to be found within the city," he told her. "They can be found, though; I'll direct you to them, later. As to the warhorse, I'm afraid that's out of the question. The emperor simply won't allow their sale."
"I'm more than willing to pay any price you, or the emperor, might think fair," she begged as she recalled the beautiful mounts she had seen.
"I'll not betray the orders of my liege, Avari," he said, dashing her hopes. "Why would you want such a mount on a simple trip to the north, anyway? The country is perilous, to be sure, but what would warrant the need of cavalry?"
"My friends and I have run into some... trouble, and I don't think our path is going to get any easier. My father always said, 'Be prepared for any situation.'" Her voice went soft. "The one time we were caught off-guard cost him his life."
"A difficult lesson, but one that has apparently served you well, if it's delivered you safely through so many perils."
Avari's bark of laughter was totally without mirth. "Yes, I've come through quite a lot without so much as a scratch. It seems that it's only the ones around me who get killed." She smiled in apology for having allowed her pain to invade the perfect evening. "Take care, my good Captain; my presence seems to transform those near me into rapidly cooling corpses."
Stiletto tested the trellis for strength and ascended. Neither sound nor tremor of leaf marked his passage, and the light breeze and soft music masked the faint creak of the window as he slipped inside. His soft leather boots made not a whisper as he whisked across the polished floor to a shrouded alcove.
Music filtered through the curtain at his back, and he realized that the alcove was actually the entrance to a balcony. He peered through the drapery; four over-dressed musicians sat three feet away, serenading the diners. Beyond and below them, near the center of the dining room, sat his target. Her escort's back was toward Stiletto, obstructing the assassin's view. Stiletto fumed; he couldn’t get past the musicians without alerting the target, and even if he could, he couldn't get a clear shot without killing the guardsman first.
He looked around for an alternative, and smiled. Three more balconi
es overlooked the room, all unoccupied. The next one would give him both privacy and a better view of the woman's bare shoulders and neck; the perfect target.
Almost done, Stiletto thought as he crept down the hall. A moment to position himself, aim and fire, and his mission would be complete.
CHAPTER 11
Lynthalsea darted through the gates of the Royal Pavilion, ignoring the attending guards until a spear thudded into the grass several feet away. She skittered aside, then turned to growl at the guardsman who had thrown the weapon.
"Get out of here, you cur!" the man yelled. He threw a stone, reluctant to venture closer to the huge stray dog with bared teeth. "Hey, you there! I need some help over here!"
Soldiers answered the summons and began to surround her, pointing spears and calling for bows. She glanced around, decided that she was outnumbered, and darted back out the gate.
Shouts followed her as she fled out and around the surrounding hedge, looking for a break in the foliage, someplace she could slink through to where carriages would pick up party-goers. Avari had to have passed through there.
She pushed through the shrubs. No revelers were near the main entrance, and the guards at the door were more interested in peeking at those inside. She darted across the cobbles to the curb. Yes, Avari had been here, but many others scents mingled with hers, clouding the path. She sniffed in circles, and soon discovered a tiny shred of gold cloth heavy with Avari's scent. There was something else on it, too, something with a biting, noxious tang. Something like... the bitter taste of DoHeney's blood. Poison! Another odor wisped by her nose, different from the other scents, an odd mixture of sweat and the dank mustiness of... the beasts from Zellohar! The assassin!
The wolf's hackles rose as she turned to face the Royal Pavilion. Avari was in there, and there was an assassin with poison nearby. Somehow, she had to get by the guards. Slowly, Lynthalsea advanced toward the stairs. Wait! Another scent of Avari, this one fresher. She had left, but not alone; she was with another human, a male. They had walked to the carriages.
"Hey! Is that a wolf?"
"If it's not, it's the biggest dog I've ever seen."
Lynthalsea looked to the stair; the guards were approaching, brandishing halberds. She needed more time. She concentrated on following Avari's scent; it was strong down to the carriages, then fading to mix with the now-familiar scents of both carriage and assassin. The carriage had departed with Avari aboard.
Lynthalsea loped down the drive after the carriage, ignoring the shouts of guards. She followed the scent out into the street and around a corner, picking up her pace, her lips once again curling back, this time in anticipation of finding that assassin.
"My problems must seem silly to a seasoned soldier," Avari said, tapping her plate with a hand that wanted very badly to shake. "I mean, you've probably seen many of those near you fall in battle. Here I am wallowing in grief after only two..."
Her voice trailed off as memories returned in a smothering tide. She tried to smile and shrug her anguish off, reaching for her wine for wont of anything better to do. A strong hand enclosed hers before she touched the glass. She looked into Yenjil's eyes, concerned and sympathetic.
"I have seen friends, countrymen, aged veterans, innocent peasants and commanding officers die in battle, Avari." His grip strengthened on her hand, forcing her to return it. "The pain never diminishes. It's part of the life of a warrior."
"But I'm not a—" Before she finished the denial, she knew it was false, and she saw in his eyes that he knew the same. He eased his grip and released her hand, but not her eyes.
"So we must live with death," he continued, "but never, ever let it be for naught."
"How do you live with it?" she asked, almost angrily. "How does anyone live with it? It eats at me every waking moment, then torments me in my dreams."
"We follow the very axiom that your father instilled in you: we remain vigilant. When the inevitable happens, we will have done everything we could have to protect those we care about."
"But that's exactly how my father died," she said, leaning forward to challenge his theory. "And Jundag, too. They both were trying to prevent harm to someone else! To me!"
"Then they died they way every decent warrior I've known would have wanted. They died with a weapon in hand, facing an enemy, trying to prevent harm to someone they loved." He paused, as if he could see the thoughts whirling within Avari's head. "Such is the way I hope to meet the gods, Avari, and, I think it's the way you would hope to, as well."
Avari sat in silence for a time, pondering Yenjil's words, forgetting where she was. Slowly, realization struck her: she would lay her life on the line for any one of her friends without hesitation. If she met a violent end doing so, the fault would not be theirs. Which was exactly what Yenjil was telling her, exactly what her father and Jundag would have told her.
The tremendous weight that had pressed onto her heart for weeks suddenly melted away like ice in a thawing river. She broke into a smile, even as tears rolled down her face. This man, this near stranger, had done for her what she could not even do for herself; he had absolved her of her guilt. She shuddered in relief and tried to thank him, but the words would not come.
Yenjil returned her smile, offering her a kerchief.
"Avari, it pleases me to no end to have been able to help you in some small way. However, I must tell you something else that you will find of great import."
"What?" she blurted, fingers of fear gripping her heart.
"Your dress has slipped again."
For a heartbeat the statement did not register, then she glanced down in horror to find she was nearly exposing herself across her plate of steak and shrimp. She ducked and snatched at her bosom, fighting to right the dress, but a whizzing noise and a sharp thud on the chair an inch from her ear elicited a totally different repertoire of reflexes.
Avari upended the table and Yenjil rolled to the side as another tiny dart thudded into the wood just below her eyes. The faint fuzz of wine cleared in a rush of adrenalin as another dart struck next to her ankle and the room erupted in chaotic screams of terror. She struggled to kneel; the table was small and not much cover, and her dress was restricting.
"I do believe someone is trying to kill you, Avari," Yenjil said with a startled smile, his sword ready in his hand. "Your troubles seem to have followed you."
"My apologies for the inconvenience," she said as she tied the draping cowls of her dress securely behind her neck, "but I warned you." Slipping the tiny golden dagger from its sheath, she advanced the slit up the side of her dress to her hip and cut the encumbering cloth away well above the knee.
"This dress damn near killed me!" she said. She looked dubiously at her dagger before sheathing it. "You wouldn't have an extra blade, would you? Mine's pretty useless."
"It's a pity about your gown." Yenjil drew a dagger from his boot and handed it over. The movement elicited another shot from their assailant, but it met only crockery. "I rather like your alterations, though," he added eying her exposed thigh.
"It's a little more appropriate for this evening's entertainment, don't you think?" she said with a grin.
Avari peeled off her gloves, tested her new blade's edge, then glanced up to see Yenjil grinning back. We're both mad! she thought, unable to suppress the sheer exhilaration. She snatched the jacket he had just removed and draped it over a broken table leg. When she poked it above the table, another dart struck it. She held the result in front of her host for scrutiny.
"What do you think?"
"I think I'll need a new jacket, and that this is the most enjoyable night out I've had in years!"
"No, I mean about our friend." She held the chair leg at the angle she had before, but lower, pointing out the direction of the attack. "He must be in that balcony, but I haven't seen him. If I try to look, he'll put a dart in my eye."
"We'll have to draw him out. How well can you throw a dagger?" Her menacing smile was all the answer he needed.
"Very well, I'll play target. Considering our respective attire, I think it's only fitting." He spread the neck of his shirt to reveal the close weave of a light mail shirt beneath.
"Now why don't they make something like that for my outfit?" Avari protested, looking down. "I feel so vulnerable."
"Vulnerable, you're not!"
A piercing scream from the entryway cut short their joking. They had forgotten they were not the only ones in the room.
"There may be more than one," she warned, flipping the dagger to ready her throw. "We have to move now!"
"Very well, let's do it. But wait for him to shoot; he may ignore me so he can get you."
Avari nodded. He sprinted into the open, running at an odd angle to present his armored back as a target. At his fourth step a dart struck him between the shoulders and he crashed to the floor amid broken chairs and screaming patrons. Avari was already in motion, standing and acquiring her target.
The balcony was in shadow, draperies hiding the hallway beyond, but two gloved hands protruded from between the curtains as they reloaded a short blowgun. Avari gauged the position of the figure behind and threw the dagger with all her strength. A cry and the dropped weapon told her she had hurt her target, but not how badly. He was either still hidden behind the cloth, or fleeing.
"Yen!" she yelled, not taking her eyes from the balcony.
"I'm fine!"
His voice brought more relief than she would have admitted, but the assassin was still out of sight. Cursing herself for ever agreeing to leave her sword at the inn, she snatched the tiny dagger from her arm and ran for the stairs.
Stiletto cursed all the curses he knew. How could he have missed? She had been sitting there, the perfect target, but had jerked just as the dart flew. He swore again; at least he had gotten her escort out of the way. He had seen the dart strike true; the man would be dead in moments. Now for the woman.
Nekdukarr Page 9