Elfshadow - Elaine Cunningham [94]
So it was that Arilyn glided back into the Drunken Dragon with confidence. She seated herself at the table next to Coril, not drawing a second glance from the mage she had spoken with only minutes before. She ordered dinner and a glass of wine and made a pretense of eating.
Arilyn hadn't long to wait. Shalar Simgulphin, a bard reputed to be a member of the Harpers, entered the tavern and joined Coril. Arilyn eagerly eavesdropped upon their conversation as she sipped her wine.
"Greetings, Coril. What brings you to the Drunken Dragon?" Shalar said, slipping into a chair and acting as if theirs was a chance meeting.
Coril shrugged. "It is a good place for watching people," he said in a noncommittal tone.
The bard's voice dropped. "And what have you seen?"
"Everything and nothing." Coril again shrugged. "I see much, but I have not the means to make sense of it all."
A small bag changed hands under the table. "Perhaps this will help," Shalar noted, adding, "There is a little extra this month."
"As there should be," Coril said. "Festival expenses are high. The costs are already being tallied," he added significantly.
Shalar sighed heavily. "I suppose you're speaking of Rhys Ravenwind?"
"And others," Coril added in a dark voice. "The assassin struck again, shortly after daybreak."
"Who?"
"The man has used many names, but most recently he was known as Elliot Graves," responded Coril.
Arilyn's goblet slipped from her fingers, and its contents spilled unheeded onto the table. She had brought this upon her friends. Elliot Graves's death was on her hands, as surely as if she had killed the man with her own sword. Fighting despair, Arilyn mopped at the spilled wine with a linen napkin an attentive servant brought her, and she forced herself to attend to Coril's next words.
"Graves was a former adventurer, now a servant in the house of-"
"Yes, yes, I know of him," the bard broke in impatiently. "How did it happen?"
"The same as the others," replied the mage cryptically. "There were several differences, however. The attack took place during daylight, and the man was awake. He must have known the assassin, for there was no sign of struggle."
Shalar ran both hands through his hair. "It is as we feared. The assassin must be a Harper, one whose affiliation is widely known."
"I agree," said Coril. "Otherwise, how could he approach so many of the Harpers unopposed?"
Shalar nodded, then he reluctantly ventured, "Was there anyone else?"
"Possibly. Do you know an adventurer by the name of Arilyn Moonblade?"
"Yes. At least, I know of her. Is she dead, as well?" the bard asked in a resigned tone.
"I don't know for sure," Coril admitted, "but I think I saw her sword earlier this evening. An ancient sword, set with a large golden stone? It was in the possession of a young man who claimed he'd won it in a game of chance."
Relief flooded Shalar Simgulphin's face. "I would lay odds that the lad you saw was actually Arilyn Moonblade. She is known for her skill in disguises."
"Really." Coril thought that over. "Well, that is good. She is wise to travel in disguise, especially if she plans to stay here at the Drunken Dragon."
"Oh?"
"I believe there is to be a secret meeting tomorrow concerning this assassin, in this inn's council room?"
"That is so."
"Several Harpers have taken rooms here for the evening," Coril explained. "If the assassin were to strike tonight, this would be a likely place."
Shalar nodded in agreement. "It is late to notify the watch of this possibility, but I shall try. At the very least, the Harpers must be warned and alert." He looked around the room.