Elminster's Daughter

Joysil burst into merry laughter, all trace of weariness gone. "They'd never forgive you for describing them so, yet your words are apt indeed: They are rapacious, sly eels and snapping little vixens."

Noumea waited and when her hostess said no more asked very softly, "I mean no offense, but please let me know the reasons for your trust. You've barely met me."

"Indeed," Joysil replied just as gently, "but I know all about you."

"Oh?"

"Born Noumea Fairbright, quite a keen-witted, spirited beauty. Attended a finishing school for daughters of the very rich in Sembia run by the Lady Calabrista. Tarried with none other than Elminster in Shadowdale after a school trip to visit his tower—and did not return to Calabrista but instead astonished a series of tutors with mastery of magic. Married Lord Elmarr Cardellith of Saerloon, a rich, ruthless Sembian merchant lord, and bore him four daughters. Survived two attempts paid for by him to have you poisoned because he wanted no girls but only sons. Escaped to Marsember and were paid to 'stay away' whilst he changed faiths and remarried in his new church, a

Noumea had gone quite pale. She swallowed slowly and deliberately, lifted her head, looked the Lady Ambrur straight in the eye, and said firmly, "Yes. Every word right, whether I like it or not. To fill in the gaps in my tale about which some have speculated: no man but Elmarr has ever touched me. Not Elminster, nor Lhaeo, nor have I entertained any affairs of the heart or lusts with anyone here or in Sembia. The extent of your knowledge can only be described as impressive, and I shall not ask how you came by it. Yet I am curious: Why do you bother to learn so much—about me, the Harper who just left us, and . . . everyone? I'll wager you know as much about all the rest of your just-departed guests as you do about me."

Joysil smiled again. "Knowing secrets . . . being part of the shady doings and intrigues that seem to be at the heart of what it is to be human ... is meat and drink to me, the very wine of life. Believe me, I can live no other way. And yes, you would have won that wager."

A bell chimed, somewhere behind her chair, and she set down her glass and asked, "Does our agreement stand? You sent back the coins I offered but spoke of acceptance."

"It stands, but I need no payment. I consider you my friend."

"Even so. Our guest—just arrived, that bell tells us—is a Red Wizard of Thay. Being in attendance to protect me may well involve some personal danger and being marked as a foe henceforth by all Thayans, even if no outward unpleasantness ensues this morning."

Noumea nodded. "Even so," she echoed. "I thought you spoke earlier of three guests."

"I did, but two of them are merely local villains, possessed of more dishonesty and empty ambition than anything else. Yet I'm pleased to have you remain with me, 'just in case.' Shall I introduce you as a student of architecture, visiting Haelithtorntowers to see its features?"

Noumea Cardellith gri

"See me standing unsurprised," Lady Ambrur replied in dry tones and pulled a tassel hanging by the arm of her chair.

The double doors opened at once, and her servants bowed three men into the room: two merchants trailed by a lone figure.

One Marsemban was tall, thin, and hard-faced, the other stout, a little battered-looking, and clutching a grand hat as if shredding it would somehow carry him unscathed through the meeting now unfolding. The two parted to let the third man through: a young, darkly handsome man in black and silver shimmerweave, looking every inch a capable, quietly swaggering noble of Suzail or fullblood merchant prince of one of the foremost families of Sembia.

"Be welcome, sirs," the Lady Ambrur said warmly. "We stand in privacy, here, armed with the information you've been seeking."

"Ah," the wizard said, eyes darting from Noumea to Joysil and back again. "That is good. We are well met, Lady Ambrur and Lady—?"

"Cardellith, sir," the unfamiliar woman replied for herself. "Noumea Cardellith, now of Marsember."

"A student of architecture," the Lady Ambrur put in gently. "Here to see every last crenellation and carving of Haelithtorntowers."

The Thayan smiled. "Architecture?"

The Lady of Haelithtorntowers smiled an almost identical smile. "And other things."

"Ah," the wizard said, and sat down in a seat without waiting for an invitation, leaving the two merchants standing uncertainly behind him.

"The merchants Aumun Tholant Bezrar and Malakar Surth," Lady Ambrur introduced them, waving them toward seats as she did so. "This is Harnrim 'Darkspells' Starangh, one of the most diplomatic Red Wizards of Thay it has ever been my pleasure to entertain."

"And have you entertained many of us, Lady?" Starangh asked softly.

The Lady Ambrur smiled again. "Yes, indeed, Darkspells. Szass and I, in particular, are old friends. Very old friends."

The Thayan sat as if frozen for an instant then said even more softly, "You must tell me about that some time. Some other time."

"Of course. When the time is right, as you say," was the silken reply.

Noumea repressed a shiver. How soft and yet sharp with menace the words of both her hostess and the Thayan. She flicked a glance at the two Marsemban merchants and saw in their faces the same tightly masked fear as she knew her own held: not knowing all that was going on here but knowing enough to be certain everything hidden was bad. And dangerous.

Darkspells spread his hands. "Have you learned what I desire to know and offered twelve thousand in gold for?"

"Twelve thousand six hundred," the Lady Ambrur told her tall-glass demurely.

"Twelve thousand six hundred, as you say," the Red Wizard agreed.

"Yes. Precisely what Vangerdahast, the retired Mage Royal of Cormyr, is 'up to' in his retirement, precisely where he is, and precisely what his magical defenses are."

Starangh smiled softly, his eyes glittering bright and hard, and purred, "If you can give me half an answer to those things, Vangerdahast will stand far closer to his doom—the doom he has so richly earned and that I shall take such delight in visiting upon him. Soon."

* * * * *

This damp, fish-stinking city wasn't Waterdeep, but at least it had walls and rooftops, and she could feel just a bit more like home.

Narnra gri

Oh, yes. Just like home.

* * * * *

The Queen of Aglarond wrinkled her nose. "Ah, Marsember! Always damp cold stone, colder people, and the everpresent reek of dead fish and human waste. For entertainment, storms rage ashore and intrigues rage behind closed doors." She smiled. "Well, it serves one good purpose: to firmly remind me what I must never let my capital Velprintalar come within the full length of a large kingdom of resembling!"

Elminster stroked her bare shoulder then kissed the smooth flesh his fingers had been tracing. "Sorry," he told her. " Tis not my favorite place in all Faerun either, but it happens to be where Caladnei bides at this moment."

The Simbul sighed. "Mystra's will be done," she murmured then turned suddenly, caught hold of his beard, and brought his lips to where she could kiss them fiercely.