Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [76]
"We ain't open," he growled down at her through a thick curly beard the color of rusted iron.
"We're looking for Elaith Craulnobur," Arilyn began.
"If he wanted to see you, boy, he'd look for you," the giant observed with a nasty smile. "Now git, before I turn you over my knee."
Arilyn drew the moonblade. "I'm afraid I must insist," she said softly.
The man threw back his head and roared with laughter, drawing several other, equally rough-looking men to his side. "He insists," he told one of them, jerking a thumb toward the slender "lad" in the doorway. His companions smirked.
Danilo buried his face in his hands. "She insists," he muttered.
"Nice sword, boy. Antique shop's down the street," one of the men taunted Arilyn. "You might as well sell it, 'cause you don't look like you can use it."
"Stand aside or draw your weapons," she said firmly. "I do not fight unarmed men."
"Right sportin' o' the lad, wouldn't you say?" piped up another. Hoots of laughter followed.
"Well, let's oblige the little chap," rumbled a deep bass voice from behind the human mountain in the doorway.
"Yeah. Show him some steel, boys." The speaker had the sun-weathered skin and rakish clothes of a Ruathym pirate. He flashed an evil grin-complete with several gold teeth-as he drew a long knife from his bright yellow sash.
With a look of pained resignation, Danilo drew his own sword and stepped to Arilyn's side. The gathered ruffians looked the dandy over from plumed hat to polished boots and burst into renewed mirth.
The elven proprietor, alerted by the commotion, looked up. As he glided toward the door, Arilyn sheathed the moonblade and removed the cap that covered her hair and ears. Elaith Craulnobur's eyes lit up in recognition.
"It's all right, Durwoon," the quessir said to the doorkeeper. "Your diligence is commendable, but we must not scare away the customers."
It was a gentle reprimand, but the huge man blanched and melted into the shadows, followed by his chastened cronies.
"What a pleasant surprise," Elaith murmured, pointedly speaking only to Arilyn. "Welcome to my new establishment." Elaith gestured around at the bustle of activity. "I acquired it just two nights past. The previous owner imbibed too freely, I'm afraid, and challenged me to a game of darts. So it goes. We plan to reopen this evening in time for the first night of the festival." He broke off suddenly and took Arilyn's gloved hand, bowing low over it. "Forgive me. I doubt you've come here to discuss my latest business venture. Can I be of some service?"
"I hope so. You know that Rhys Ravenwind was killed the night we met at the House of Fine Spirits," Arilyn began.
"A tragedy," Elaith said smoothly. "What has this to do with you or me?"
"You were there," Danilo pointed out ingenuously.
The quessir raised his eyebrows in gentle reproach. "As were you. I assure you, the watch has already made the same dreary assumption, and they are now completely satisfied with my innocence."
Arilyn shot Danilo a quelling glance and turned back to the elf. "May we talk alone?"
"By all means," Elaith agreed, eyeing Danilo with distaste. The elf took Arilyn's arm and drew her into the tavern. Refusing to be insulted or excluded, Danilo resolutely trailed behind.
"I do not presume to tell you your business, my dear etriel, but you would be well rid of that one," the elf murmured, too low for the human to hear.
"Don't think I haven't tried," Arilyn returned.
"Really. How very interesting," he mused.
To Arilyn's surprise, Elaith contemplated her offhand remark as if it were a particularly important piece in a puzzle. She would have pressed him for an explanation, but they had traversed the length of the tavern and reached a back room that apparently served as his office. The elf had wasted no time in settling in to what had probably been a storeroom. The room had been swept and newly whitewashed, and the window that overlooked