Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [109]
"Filauria, summon the mercenary team."
The lovely etriel at Kymil's side went without question to do his bidding. Soon she returned, leading a contingent of human adventurers from the chambers where they had awaited Kymil's summons, swilling ale and playing dice.
For a long moment, Kymil regarded the men whom Elaith Craulnobur had recommended for the task. They were led by Harvid Beornigarth, an uncouth one-eyed giant of a man. The unfortunate result of a barbarian rampage, Harvid owed his size to his father's race and his eye patch to Arilyn Moonblade. The fighter's huge arms were knotted with muscle, and he was known to wield his spike-studded mace with skill. The four men with Harvid were equally strong and unkempt, to all appearances a wild and formidable force. They were precisely what Kymil needed.
"Well, Harvid, it seems that you shall finally have the opportunity to avenge the loss of your eye," Kymil began, steepling his fingers in a gesture of satisfaction.
The man hefted his mace in anticipation. "Where is the gray wench?" he snarled.
"Let us hope your skills match your enthusiasm," Kymil said dryly. "Your chance will come before the sun rises again. Behold."
Kymil waved his fingers over the scrying crystal and an image of a garden courtyard appeared. A few people wandered about, enjoying the bright autumn morning. "This is Jester's Square. Do you know it? Good. The half-elf and her companion, Danilo Thann, will arrive here before daybreak. There are but two ways to leave the courtyard." Kymil pointed to a large gap between two buildings. "This would be the mostly likely exit. You are to block it. Use whatever you can find. You will lie in wait for them here, in this alley."
Kymil looked up at the mercenaries, his face grim. "And you will kill them both." A gasp of surprise came from the elven female who stood attentively behind the armsmaster's chair.
Harvid Beornigarth had his own doubts. He grimaced and scratched at his eye patch with a large, grimy finger.
"Is there a problem?" Kymil asked calmly.
"Well, yes," Harvid admitted. "I know young Lord Thann."
"Yes? So?"
"I don't want to kill him."
"Really," chided Kymil. "I had thought you beyond such sentiment."
"It's not personal. I just don't like messing with nobility. His family is powerful."
"Is that all." Kymil sniffed. "Believe me, the Thann family will recover from the loss. Danilo is a sixth son, a wastrel and a fool by most measures." The elf's voice hardened. "You will kill Danilo Thann. That is the price I demand for giving you Arilyn Moonblade's life."
The gleam returned to Harvid's good eye. "I'll get the gold you promised when I bring you her sword?"
"Of course," Kymil said smoothly. "Now go."
Filauria watched the mercenaries clomp from the room. "I have seen the half-elf in battle. Those men are as good as dead."
Kymil patted her hand. "Of course they are, my dear, but they are nothing if not expendable."
The etriel looked puzzled. "If Harvid Beornigarth and his men cannot kill the half-elf, why do you send them?"
"I do not want Arilyn dead. I merely wish to restore her sword to its full potential," Kymil said mildly. "Harvid Beornigarth is the means to that end. At first glance, he looks dangerous, and he and his men should give Arilyn a good fight. Bran Skorlsun will certainly come out of the shadows if his daughter's life appears to be endangered. With him comes the moonstone."
* * * * *
The first thing Arilyn noticed about Candlekeep was that the air was considerably warmer than that in Waterdeep. No wonder, she thought dazedly. She and Danilo had materialized several hundred miles to the south of the City of Splendors.
Before them towered the library, a massive citadel of pale gray stone that was ringed by walls and perched on a rocky seacoast. Although the setting was austere, the air, even in late autumn, was balmy, tempered by the strong breeze that blew in from the Sea of Swords.
"State