Crown of Fire - Ed Greenwood [60]
"My thanks, Sir Dwarf. Well met!"
"Our thanks, Baera," Mirt said feelingly. They were gathered in the inn's largest and best bedroom.
Shandril was feeling very sleepy again, but beside her, Narm felt much better-and was hungrily devouring a second serving of the dinner the innkeeper had brought up to them.
From the other side of the curtain, Baergasra chuckled. "Ah, but it was a little thing I did, and in return for it you've given me this. It feels good to be clean again!" There was a rueful pause, and she added despairingly, "But my hair!* "What about yer hair?" Mirt asked carefully. "I've seen far worse, proudly sailing along the streets of Waterdeep, assured of a display of the highest fashion."
The reply was mournful. "Most of this'll have to be cut off to get rid of the worst that's really stuck in the tangles," "If it's not too personal," Delg asked carefully, sitting down again on his stool heside the curtain, "just why did you choose to wander about in rags, anyway? Is begging so profitable hereabouts?"
"Little man," Baergasra darkly replied, a nasty insult to any dwarf, "I do what I must, whether it's harping or begging, and don't snarl overmuch about it. Orders are orders, and a noble cause is, as they say, a noble cause. But that doesn't mean I enjoy it."
"All," said the dwarf, cocking his head at the word harping. "Of course. Forgive me, big woman."
There was a sputtering laugh from the other side of the curtain, and it suddenly bulged beside Delg's head as the brush came swiftly back to him-or at least to a momentary embrace with the side of his brow.
"Ooohhh," he commented from the floor a moment later, lying beside the stool. "This one bites."
"as I recall," Mirt rumbled jovially, "yes. It-"
"A gentle reminder, Mirt," the Harper called from her side of the curtain. "I still have the soap bucket to return to someone."
"Ahh, aye-'hem! Ahem," Mirt replied hastily. "To be sure, to be sure… Are ye hungry perchance, Baera? We've food here, and-"
"Thank you, I will. It's been awhile since I've had something properly cooked, and with sauces, to boot.
And Narm may need another spell or two; I'd best remain here to be certain. I'll stay the night, if you've room. If he falls asleep, don't try to wake him without me, mind; that venom can't be hurried,"
"Yer bed is ready when ye are. How are things in the Hullack wilds, then?"
"Not so bad, yet," was the reply, punctuated by sounds of a scalp being vigorously scrubbed. "But getting worse. Zhentarim and bandits both are multiplying in the Stonelands and raiding farther. That one who called you out, downstairs? He's one of the local Zhentarim rats-a thief by the name of Osber.
He was probably so eager to take all the credit for capturing Shandril of the Spellfire that he didn't bother to call on any nearby magelings. Tymora smiled on you there; the Zhentarim spell-hurlers hereabouts lie low and aren't all that strong, but they can lay hands on powerful wands and the like if they've a mind to."
"But he did manage to round up six men-at-arms," Narm protested.
Baergasra chuckled. "Those were his 'fist,' his own little band of bully-boys. "they're never far away from him, and tonight three of them were enjoying a quiet evening's entertainment here with several of the local night girls." "What's that?" Mirt asked. alert. "Shouldn't we-?"
The Harper chuckled again. "No fears there. The girls aren't Zhentarim; two, in fact, like to…"
"Harp?" Delg offered, back on his stool again.
"Indeed they do, Sir Dwarf." Her voice changed again. "But there's darker news than that." She coughed briefly and went on. "The real reason I want to see Narm safely back on his feet myself, in fact, is that all across the Realms, these last three rides or so, spells have been going wrong. Going wild, sometimes."
She paused, but