Elfshadow

The man's one good eye swept over the nobleman and his "servant," and his lips pursed. "Got work for the boy, no problem, if he knows how to use that weapon he carries. Gem merchant needs a couple of hireswords. As for you," Blazidon said, eyeing Danilo speculatively, "I hear there's a lady from Thay what wants a local escort for the festival. Mind you, I usually don't do this sort of hiring, but I can tell you where to find the lady."

Arilyn smirked, but Danilo fell back a step, aghast. "Sir, you misunderstand. I don't seek employment for myself. Rather, we need to ascertain the identity of-"

Arilyn pushed past Danilo and held out a charcoal sketch she'd made of the man who had had Perendra's snuffbox. She was no artist, but depicting a one-eared man with a twisted nose and a lightning-bolt scar was not difficult.

"Do you know this man?" she asked, her voice low.

Blazidon squinted at the picture. "That's got to be Barth. Haven't seen him around for some time." The man's eyes shifted from the picture to Danilo and then Arilyn. "Who am I doing business with, lad? You or your master?"

"Me," Arilyn said firmly.

The man nodded. "Good."

"Can you tell me anything about him?" Arilyn asked.

"No, can't say as I know much to tell. Hamit, his partner, is a whole 'nother story. We go way back."

"Where can I find this Hamit?"

"In the City," the man said bluntly, using the Waterdhavian slang for the City of the Dead, the large cemetery on the northwestern side of Waterdeep. "He must have crossed someone. They found him with a dagger in his back." The man shrugged. "It happens."

"Do you have any idea who might have hired Barth and Hamit recently?"

"That's precisely what I was trying to say," Danilo explained plaintively. No one paid him any notice.

"I might," Blazidon said, glancing at the dwarf.

The dwarf stuck out his square hand, palm up. "Fee," he rumbled. Danilo obligingly dropped a gold coin into the upturned paw. The dwarf examined it, bit it, and gave a curt nod to the tallfellow. Blazidon's clerk turned several pages.

"That pair worked for anyone who had money," the tallfellow said, his voice that of a human boychild. "Bodyguard, strongarms, second-story, even an assassination or two, although no one of pith and moment. Barth liked to work on his own, as well. His specialty was sleight-of-hand theft. He worked with one fence in particular."

"The name'll cost you extra," added the dwarf. Danilo dumped a handful of coppers into the dwarf's hand. The bodyguard regarded Danilo so balefully that the nobleman hastily added a gold coin to the pile.

"Ja

"Need anything else?" Blazidon asked.

"I don't think so," Arilyn said. She tucked the sketch of Barth into her sleeve. Unable to resist, she cocked an eyebrow at Danilo and added, "Unless you want to reconsider the offer from the Thayvian woman?"

By now Danilo had regained his equilibrium. "She couldn't afford me," he said grandly.

Clad in a sober dress of deep burgundy silk, Loene laced her fingers in her lap and looked across the parlor at her old friend, the mage Nain Keenwhistler. Times had changed. Once they both had shared adventures as members of the Company of Crazed Venturers. Now they primly discussed trade and politics. "Your plan sounds good, Nain. I'm in."

The man smiled with satisfaction. "You won't regret your investment, Loene. Not only is there a growing market for Chultan teak and mahogany, but our venture will help establish Waterdeep's ties to the island of Lantan. Piracy along the coasts is worsening, and Lantan offers us a port in exchange for some additional protection for their fishing waters."

"You've become quite the politician, Nain," Loene said, deftly cutting him off with a compliment. Tales she enjoyed, but Nain's recital of political matters held little interest. "You've been here since before highsun. Have you eaten? No? Nor I. We can talk over lunch."

"I'd be glad to stay."

"Good." Loene rose from her chair and reached for an embroidered bell pull. "I'll let Graves know."

The servant did not answer the summons. Loene rang the bell a second time, and her face clouded. "Graves is usually so prompt. I think I'll see what might be keeping him."

She made her way to the kitchen, pausing at the doorway, almost like an intruder. After all, she had rarely been near the room since the day she'd bought the tiny castle. Her gaze swept through the meticulously kept room. Not a thing was out of place, except the sole occupant.

Graves slumped over a pine worktable, next to a bowl of apples that awaited peeling and a pastry crust that had long since become dry and transparent. His mace was still hooked on his belt, and a paring knife lay within reach, next to a halved apple.

Fear rose in Loene, and she walked like one asleep across the spotless floor. Reaching for his left hand, she turned it over. On the cold palm of her oldest and most trusted friend blazed a harp and crescent moon.

Loene dropped to her knees beside the kitchen table and gathered the man's thin body in her arms. "Damn you, Elliot," she said softly. "You should have thrown that Harper pin down the sewers years ago."

"Hello, Ja

The merchant jumped, and the priceless volume he'd been perusing dropped from his hands. Elaith "the Serpent" Craulnobur had entered the room and was seated comfortably in a chair, his legs stretched out before him and his pale hands toying with a small dagger.

"By all means, pick it up," Elaith said, amused.

Ja

Hoping to get the upper hand on the situation, Ja

"Really, my dear man. In your business and mine, there are questions that one simply doesn't ask," the elf replied, crossing his ankles in a leisurely fashion. "I understand that some papers have come into your possession, some correspondence to the Zhentarim leadership at Zhentil Keep regarding a series of assassinations?"

"That is so," the fence said cautiously.

"I should like to see them."

"By all means." Ja

"The asking price is ten silver," the fence said into the silence. He should have asked twice that amount. Bartering was second nature to the man, but today his enthusiasm was tempered by the reputation of his client. He began to wish that he had not spoken of these papers to Elaith Craulnobur's messenger earlier in the morning. To be sure, the elf had spread word that he would pay well for certain types of information, but a good fence should realize that some risks were simply not worth taking. When an assassin started looking into the business of other assassins, it was never prudent to be caught in the middle.