Cormyr_ a novel - Ed Greenwood [153]
"A friend of the crown," the masked woman replied smoothly. Her voice was not Emthrara's, but it had a similar husky tone. The masked woman plucked up her gown from the floor and hung it on a wall hook. "I know you went to the palace earlier today. Will you accompany me there again?"
"Lady, I will," Dauneth said without hesitation. This didn't look like Princess Alusair, either, but then he had never seen her all that closely.
The woman seemed to know his thoughts. "I am not of royal blood," she said, "but I am loyal to the crown. Are you?"
Dauneth met those green eyes steadily and replied, "Lady, I am. I am prepared to swear by whatever you choose, if you will it so."
"I want nothing so dramatic. A man's word is enough if it is the right man."
Her words made the scion of House Marliir feel good indeed. He grasped the hilt of his sword hard, smiling in pride that lasted only for an instant. The masked woman moved a table aside as if it were made of paper, rolled back the edge of a rug with her foot, and put two fingers into a hole in the floor. She pulled, and a square of wooden flooring rose. A trapdoor common to such shops, usually used for storage.
"Follow me," she directed simply and slid into the dark opening. Dauneth did so, finding stone steps leading down into a small room that smelled of old leather. He had a brief glimpse of shelves and shelves of boots in the radiance that suddenly bloomed into life in the palm of the woman's hand. She was a mage!
Emerald eyes met his, and then, without a word, the woman strode away into the darkness. Dauneth followed hastily along a narrow, stone-floored tunnel. Such a tunnel was not usually common for such shops, and this one smelled of earth and nearby cesspits. The tunnel went on for a long, long time before it met with a second passage. Dauneth and the masked woman turned left, took a few paces, and then turned right again and went on. The walk was even longer this time, ending in a few worn steps that led up before they emerged in a room full of dusty cobwebs and boxes.
The masked mage turned to Dauneth, her radiance dimmed by the simple method of pressing her palm against the base of her neck. "Keep close to me and be very quiet," she murmured. "We're in the under-court cellars, beneath the Noble Court."
The noble nodded, keeping a hand on his blade to prevent it from swinging and scraping against or knocking anything over. They passed through a succession of dark and dusty rooms, seeing glimmering lanterns in the distance twice, and then the woman in blue held up a hand to halt him and peered around a corner. Satisfied, she waved him on, and together they stepped past the sprawled forms of two guards, dice and cards strewn around them. "They won't sleep all that long," she murmured. "We must move briskly." Beyond the guards were steps, leading to an iron-banded door, barred on their side. Dauneth and the woman lifted the bar down together, and the masked woman touched the lock with one finger. The door clicked once and shifted open a little.
Beyond was another tunnel. "I could come to master these tunnels were there not so many of them," Dauneth muttered. The emerald eyes of the masked woman seemed to smile in answer as her head turned briefly. They went on along a dusty passage that seemed to hold a statue or something ahead.
As they drew nearer, Dauneth saw that it was a stone block, almost as large as a man, that had fallen from the roof above. He glanced up. The cavity it had come from fitted it perfectly, and a dust-covered chain descended from the darkness of the cavity to the block itself. This had been no crumbling misfortune, but a deathtrap. He looked down and saw yellow-brown bones protruding from under the stone and a skeletal arm, reaching vainly for somewhere safer. Somewhere forever beyond its reach.
He looked up to find the masked face watching his.