Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [80]
"Keep your threats, Harper," Elaith said scornfully. "Arilyn Moonblade has nothing to fear from me. I only wish to aid her and to guide her career."
"Then she is indeed in grave danger," Bran concluded.
Elaith misunderstood Bran's meaning, and his eyes narrowed in menace. "She is in no danger from me," he hissed. "The same, however, cannot be said for you."
With the speed of a serpent's strike, a dagger appeared in the elf's hand and flashed toward Bran's throat. The aging Harper ranger was faster still. He tossed the elf to the ground. Elaith twisted and landed crouched on his feet, wrist cocked in readiness to flick the dagger into his old friend and enemy.
But Bran Skorlsun had vanished. Elaith stood and tucked the dagger back into its hiding place.
"Not bad," Elaith admitted, brushing a bit of dust from his leg as he admired Bran's skill. "You should watch your back, old friend. Watch your back."
Elaith turned back to his new establishment. As entertaining as the encounter had been, he had a myriad of details to attend to before the tavern could open. His eye fell upon the large oak sign, just delivered that morning, that leaned against the back wall of the building. This turned out nicely, the elf mused, moving in for a better look. I must have someone hang it immediately.
He ran his fingers over the raised letters of the sign that would soon grace the front door of the Hidden Blade.
Twelve
In early afternoon Virgin's Square was teeming with activity and bright with autumn sunlight and colorful merchandise. Local legend claimed that an altar had once stood on the site, upon which virgins were sacrificed to dragon gods centuries before Waterdeep was a city. On such a day that dark past seemed distant indeed.
The time for the highsun meal had passed, and delicious scents lingered in the warm autumn air. A large crowd browsed among the stalls of an open air market that offered goods ranging from fresh produce to exotic weapons. On the other side of the square services were sold, and perhaps two hundred persons, representing many races and nationalities, milled up and down the steps of a tiered piazza.
Those who wished to find work flocked to the square. Newcomers to the city, travelers relieved of their purses by pickpockets and in need of passage home, adventurers, servants, mages, sellswords-all gathered to hire themselves out. Services of many kinds could be purchased in Virgin's Square. There was little overt pandering, but those who made inquiries were assured that discreet introductions were always possible.
Potential employers were there in large number, as well. Caravan-masters stopped in Virgin's Square to acquire the guards and scouts needed for long trips. Since slavery was illegal in Waterdeep, visiting merchants and dignitaries from the southern and far-eastern lands often went there to find hired servants to replace their slaves. Even adventurers wishing to form parties sought each other out in the square.
At the center of this activity sat Blazidon One-Eye. He was, perhaps, the best known among his profession, and he ran a brisk trade matching those who would hire with those who wished to work. The grizzled former adventurer was an unlikely businessman. His clothes were dusty and unkempt, and his body seemed to be made of little more than bone and stringy muscle. The graying beard had probably once been bright red; at present it appeared ale-soaked and in dire need of a trim. A dusty eye patch covered his left eye, and a leather vest lay open over his bare chest.
Blazidon was attended by a clerk and a bodyguard, both of whom were as unlikely as their master. The former was a tallfellow, a rare type of halfling that grew to be somewhat taller and slimmer than most of their kind. A little over four feet in height, the tallfellow maintained thick crops of very blond hair on his head, chin, and bare feet, a color echoed by the lemon shade of his tunic and leggings. His frivolous appearance was greatly at odds with his serious