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Elfshadow fr-2 Page 8

by Elaine Cunningham


  Blissfully unaware of Arilyn's scrutiny, the young man made another, presumably witty observation. One of his companions, a rough-looking man in the garb of a mercenary, roared with laughter and swatted the humorist's shoulder with a large, grimy paw. The young man did not seem affronted by the mercenary's familiarity; rather, he winced and clutched at his shoulder, making another remark that set the table to laughter.

  Probably not a nobleman, Arilyn concluded, but a wealthy merchant. The men at the table did not appear drunk enough to take such liberties with a noble. The pale-haired dandy did not seem to have been drinking heavily, which was also good. He appeared to have his wits about him.

  Arilyn rose and slipped quietly into the room. The back half of the tavern was kept deliberately dark, and she hugged the wall and stayed within the convenient shadows. She wanted no one to connect the airy courtesan with the travel-worn etriel who had entered the tavern earlier. A sudden lull in the various conversations about the room greeted her as she moved into the lighted area. Men and women alike cast speculative glances at Arilyn. She tilted her head at a coquettish angle and moved purposely toward her target.

  One of the fop's companions stopped gaping at Arilyn long enough to elbow her intended quarry in his ribs. The young dandy looked up at her, his eyebrows raising in a lazy expression of appreciation. He rose politely as she reached his table, and Arilyn was surprised to note that he was taller than she by several inches.

  "Well met, indeed. I must be living right," he marveled, claiming her hand and bowing low over it.

  Arilyn doubted it, but she answered him only with a soft smile. The fool could take that as he would.

  "Would you care to join me? I'm Danilo, by the way. Danilo Thann."

  With effort, Arilyn held back a groan. She knew that name: the Thann family had far-flung merchant concerns, as well as vast lands north of Waterdeep. The dandy was a Waterdhavian nobleman. It was too late to withdraw, so she held her seductive smile in place as Danilo Thann elbowed aside a comrade and ushered her into the vacant seat. He slid comfortably into the chair next to her.

  "And you are…?" His voice trailed off, inviting her to finish.

  "Drinking Elquesstria, please," she purred, deliberately misunderstanding him.

  His eyes lit up. "Ah! No name. A lady of mystery. And drinking elven spirits. That makes you a lady of taste, as well." He smirked around the table at his audience. "Although your choice in companions has already established that fact beyond question." His cronies chuckled in agreement, apparently sharing young Thann's comfortable opinion of himself.

  The clank of an ill-kept chain mail shell interrupted the groups' merriment, and Arilyn stiffened involuntarily. She didn't have to look up to know it was Harvid Beornigarth himself. Arilyn's hands itched to grab the moonblade and cleave the pesky human crustacean in two, but she willed herself to maintain the languid posture of a courtesan.

  "Pardon, my lord, but have you seen this elf-wench about?" Harvid thrust a roughly-drawn sketch of Arilyn at the young noble. Danilo took it, gave it a quick glance, and handed it back.

  "No, can't say that I have."

  "You're sure?"

  Danilo draped an arm around Arilyn's shoulders, smiling up at Harvid Beornigarth as if he and the adventurer were old friends. "Frankly, no. If you were in my position," he drawled, squeezing the woman beside him, "would you have eyes for another?"

  The lout's approving leer swept over Arilyn, and in response she forced herself to raise her eyes to his face. Harvid showed no sign of recognizing her. He grinned, revealing several rotting teeth.

  "I wouldn't be looking, either," he admitted. He moved on to the next table, where he began to question the patrons with considerably less courtesy.

  Arilyn relaxed. Now to get out of the inn and away. She would definitely have to take Danilo with her; the respect Harvid had shown the young noblemen indicated that she would probably not be approached by any of the other thugs as long as she was in the dandy's presence. Resisting the urge to peel the noble's arm from her shoulder, she glanced up at her future hostage.

  Danilo Thann was leaning back in his chair, eyes narrowed and fixed intently upon something. Arilyn followed the line of his gaze. From his angle, he could see her hands, resting on her lap and tightly clenched. He appeared to be noting her whitened knuckles, and there was a speculative expression on his face.

  She glanced sharply at him. What had he guessed?

  He looked up and met her eyes, and her suspicions faded away. The young fool's face was as bland as porridge, and he flashed the charming smile that she was beginning to find irritating.

  "Lovely ring. Very popular style in Waterdeep," he commented lightly. He picked up Arilyn's hand and surveyed it with the grave expression of a connoisseur, several of his own rings catching the light as he turned her hand this way and that. "They were selling these at the open-air market last summer festival. Did you get it then?"

  His question seemed innocent enough, but Arilyn answered evasively. "My business hasn't taken me to Waterdeep in some time."

  "What business are you in?" A huge man with black hair and rust-colored whiskers addressed the neckline of Arilyn's gown, leaning forward for a better view as he spoke. "A fellow merchant, perhaps?"

  "No, not a merchant," Arilyn answered sweetly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the last of Harvid's men leave the tavern. The inn's patrons relaxed, and renewed conversation and calls for ale filled the tavern. It was the perfect moment to slip away. "My 'business,' such as it is, is best conducted in private." She rose, extending a hand and a smile of invitation to Danilo.

  The red-whiskered man guffawed and clapped Danilo on the back. "Well, lad, you're set for the evening."

  "If I don't return for a while, don't bother looking for me," he told the men with mock sternness. He took Arilyn's hand and let her lead him to the rear of the tavern. There was a door there, an exit that could lead upstairs or outside. She'd have to persuade him to take the latter option.

  "Perhaps a short stroll?" Danilo suggested when they reached the doorway. "The night is lovely. Cool, but I do love autumn weather."

  That's one problem solved, Arilyn noted, and she readily agreed. A pair of lovers out for a moonlight stroll would not draw a second glance. Then, once they were safely in the forest, she could conveniently lose him. Let him wander back on his own and explain her absence to his cronies.

  Danilo tucked her arm cozily into his. He chattered merrily as they walked down the street behind the tavern, regaling her with a version of Waterdhavian gossip that would have been highly amusing if Arilyn had been in the mood to be entertained.

  Arilyn encouraged the young nobleman's cheerful talk with appropriate inane noises, subtly guiding their path out of the bustle of arriving merchant caravans and toward the forest. The trading center at the Halfway Inn was as large as some towns, and at their leisurely pace it was almost an hour before they neared the path that followed the forest edge. The fickle autumn weather changed as they walked, and a damp wind began to hint at rain.

  As Danilo Thann talked, Arilyn listened carefully to the night sounds. Voices drifted toward them from the inn, and horses nickered contentedly in the nearby stables. Once, she noticed that the shadow of a bush seemed disproportionately long. Later, a partridge flew up as if something had come too close to her nest. Never was there a suspicious sound, but Arilyn slowly became convinced that someone was following her still.

  Damn! she thought vehemently. And after all the trouble she had gone through in the tavern to leave her shadow behind. Harvid's men were still stomping around the inn's grounds, and sounds of a fight would draw them like vultures to carrion.

  A twig snapped a few feet away. Keeping her face expressionless, Arilyn slid one hand between the folds of her bright skirt and drew a dagger from its hiding place. As she and Danilo passed a large elm, Arilyn burst into motion. Wrenching her arm free from the nobleman's grasp, she reached behind the tree and dragged out
a man by a handful of his hair. She threw the man against the trunk of the tree and pressed her dagger firmly against his neck. Immediately she recognized him as one of the ruffians who'd been with Harvid Beornigarth in the tavern, although she had not seen him in Harvid's crew before tonight. His face would be hard to forget; a jagged purple scar cut across one cheek, his nose had been broken at least once, and he was minus an ear.

  "Why are you following me?" she demanded.

  The man licked his lips nervously. "I saw you in the tavern. You came out alone, so I thought I'd… you know."

  "The lady is not alone," Danilo Thann broke in haughtily. "Most certainly not. She is with me."

  "Stay out of this," growled the lady in question. The noblemen fell back a step, raising his hands obligingly.

  "You've been following me since I left the tavern? Not before?" It seemed unlikely to Arilyn that this ruffian could be her mysterious shadow, but she planned to find out for sure. The man hesitated just a shade too long before answering.

  "No, just since the tavern. I've never seen you before."

  Arilyn's blade slid along the man's jawline, removing a good deal of dark stubble as well as a bit of skin. "I'm not sure I believe you. Who are you working for?"

  "Harvid Beornigarth. The big man with the yellow braids."

  "No one else?"

  "No!"

  In spite of his guilty, furtive eyes, Arilyn was inclined to believe him. This was no canny assassin. She started to ease the dagger away when a dull flash of gold caught her eye. Her free hand darted into the open sack that was tied around the man's waist, and she drew out a golden snuff box with a curling rune engraved on the lid. It was a familiar rune. Arilyn caught her breath.

  "Where did you get this?" she rasped, thrusting the box close to the man's face. The rune on it was the sigil of the mage Perendra of Waterdeep. She had been one of the first to fall to the Harper Assassin.

  The man's eyes filled with panic and flickered back and forth as if seeking a means of escape. "Waterdeep," he croaked. "I got it in Waterdeep."

  "I know that. Tell me more."

  "From an elf. In Waterdeep. That's all I know, I swear."

  "Does this elf have a name?"

  Beads of sweat broke out on the man's face. "No, please! If I tell you his name he'll kill me."

  "If you don't, I'll kill you."

  "Life is just full of difficult decisions," Danilo Thann noted behind her. The unexpected sound startled Arilyn.

  "Are you still here?" She threw a glance over her shoulder. The nobleman was leaning casually against a tree, arms crossed.

  "Well, naturally," he replied. "It's dangerous out here. Who knows, there could be more of these men lying in wait."

  "I don't need protection," she said emphatically.

  "My point precisely," he said. "If it's all the same to you, I don't mind remaining in the company of a lady who knows her way around a dagger."

  "Suit yourself." Arilyn turned her full attention back to her captive. "The elf's name?"

  "I can't tell you!" he said in desperation. The dagger began its path along his jaw again. "All right! All right."

  "Well?"

  "His name is-"

  The ruffian's voice snapped off as if he'd been throttled. Slowly Arilyn lowered the dagger, watching in disbelief as the man's face blackened and his tongue bulged out of his mouth. She backed away, unable to take her eyes from the horribly distorted face. A low, rattling gurgle burst from the man, and he slid, lifeless, down the length of the tree trunk.

  "Merciful Mystra!" exclaimed Danilo Thann. "You've killed him!"

  Six

  Arilyn spun around to face the horrified nobleman. "I did not kill this man," she said.

  "Well, I certainly didn't," retorted Danilo Thann. "I might not know much, but I do know dead. And he's it. How do you explain that?"

  "I can't."

  "Me either. We'd better go back to the tavern and alert the local authorities. Let them figure it out."

  "No!"

  Her vehemence seemed to surprise the young dandy. "If you didn't kill him, what do you have to worry about?" he asked reasonably.

  Plenty, Arilyn thought. The last thing she needed right now was to leave another body in her wake. Her past invited speculation, and sooner or later someone would put the pieces together and label her the Harper Assassin. That day seemed close at hand, for the news of Rafe's death was spreading far too quickly. Kymil already knew, so it was possible that the Evereska authorities had also learned of the young Harper's death.

  "Come on," she said abruptly. She tucked the gold snuffbox into her sleeve and set a brisk pace back to the stables. The noblemen fell in beside her.

  "Where are we going?"

  "The stables."

  "Oh? Why's that, I wonder?"

  Arilyn was in no mood to banter. Under the guise of reclaiming Danilo's arm she pressed the tip of her dagger to his side. It pierced his silken tunic, but the fool's slightly amused expression never faltered.

  "Do be careful of the fabric, will you?" he admonished her. Arilyn looked at his vague smile, wondering for the first time if the man were simple. "You're coming with me."

  "Yes," he agreed calmly, pausing as Arilyn swung open the door to the stable. "So it would appear."

  Irritated, she prodded him inside. "Just keep walking."

  "Well, really," he huffed. "There's no need to be so grim about this. Believe me, I'm a willing victim," he said, looking her over and smiling.

  His calm acceptance of the situation temporarily disconcerted Arilyn. Danilo smirked at the bewildered expression on her face.

  "Don't look so surprised, my dear lady. I will admit that the dagger is a new approach, but I often encounter women who are most eager for my company."

  Arilyn snorted. "We're here for horses, not a pile of hay."

  Danilo cocked his head and considered the possibilities. "My, my. You are full of innovative ideas, aren't you?"

  Gritting her teeth in annoyance, Arilyn dropped his arm and threw open the door of the first stall. A matched pair of chestnut mares, fine-boned and high-spirited, tossed their heads and whinnied. The horses looked fit and, most important, fast.

  "These will do," Arilyn announced.

  "I should say," he murmured in reply.

  She tucked the dagger back into her belt, grabbed a finely wrought saddle from a hook, and thrust it at Danilo. "I assume you can ride."

  He took the saddle from her outstretched hands. "Please! You wound me," he protested.

  "Don't tempt me."

  Danilo sighed and shook his head. "I can see that setting the proper tone for this moonlight ride will be my responsibility entirely."

  It was time to convince this grinning idiot that matters were serious. In one quick fluid movement, Arilyn drew the dagger and hurled it at him. The weapon streaked past Danilo, sweeping off his hat before imbedding itself in the wooden beam behind him. Arilyn strode past him and plucked the dagger and the hat from the beam, then thrust his hat at him.

  He fingered the hole in disbelief. "Really! This was a new hat," he protested.

  "Consider the alternative," she pointed out with grim humor. "Saddle up."

  Sighing lustily, the dandy stuck the mutilated hat back on his head and did as he was told. To his credit, he worked quickly. Arilyn watched the stable door, but she could detect neither sound or movement. Perhaps she had shaken her shadow, after all.

  After years of stopping at the Halfway Inn, Arilyn knew its secrets very well. Although the front of the stable opened onto a busy, well-lit street, a door at the rear of the building would put them directly onto a wooded path that would take them northward through the forest. She'd used that exit on more than one occasion. When both mares were saddled, she motioned for Danilo Thann to follow her. Obligingly he led his horse after her.

  On the way out Arilyn stopped by her own horse's stall. She retrieved her saddle bags, and for a moment she looked with longing eyes at the
gray mare. It pained Arilyn to leave her horse behind, but the mare needed rest badly. Arilyn took a bit of parchment from her saddlebags and scribbled a note to Myrin Silverspear, asking him to care for her horse and to reimburse the owner of the paired chestnuts for their loss. The innkeeper had handled such a transaction for her once before, and he would trust her to pay him back as soon as she returned. Theirs was a strange friendship, but she knew she could rely on him for anything. Arilyn placed the note between two of the boards that formed the wall-the stableboy would know to check there for messages-and then gave her horse a farewell pat.

  As she turned to go, Arilyn looked up at the nobleman. His expression was sympathetic, and she felt a wave of irritation. Many killers were tender of their horses, so why did the fool regard her as if she were a new mother cooing over an infant?

  "Come on," she snapped. After leading the way out of the stables and onto the path, she hiked up her flowing skirts and mounted her borrowed horse. When they reached the edge of the forest Arilyn drew a knife from her boot and held it up for Danilo to see.

  "If you run, this will find your heart before your horse takes ten paces."

  Danilo smiled and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I wouldn't dream of running. Now that you have well and thoroughly captured my attention, I can't wait to find out what all this is about. What a story I'll have to tell once we get home! We are going to Waterdeep, aren't we? I mean, eventually? Just imagine, I'll dine out for a month of tendays on this adventure and…"

  The rest of his words drifted mercifully into the winds. Arilyn smacked the rump of his horse, sending it running into the night.

  They rode hard, but Arilyn could discern no sign that they were being followed. Dark clouds scuttled across the sky, and the trees twisted and writhed in the rising wind. Finally the storm began, and huge raindrops pelted the travelers. The presence of the garrulous hostage made Arilyn almost grateful for the foul weather. The wind and driving rain made conversation impossible, and their situation worsened when they left the relative shelter of the forest. Arilyn pressed on, following the swiftly flowing river known as Winding Water. A travelers' hut on the lower branch promised shelter.

 

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