Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [42]
Khelben climbed the stairs to his tower. The door was flung open at his approach, and Laeral stood at the top of the stairs. She was dressed as usual in a clinging, seductive gown, and her luxuriant silvery hair spilled over her bared shoulders. For once, though, her face lacked merri-ness, and her dimples were nowhere in evidence.
"How does Larissa?" she asked. Even through her concern, her voice was sultry as a summer breeze.
"She sleeps," Khelben muttered. That is the best that can be said."
Laeral held out her arms, offering what comfort she could. For a long moment the powerful wizards clung to each other. Khelben drew back first, smoothing his lady's silver hair and giving her a small grateful smile.
"A message came from the Lady of Berdusk while you were gone," Laeral said quietly, producing a small scrying globe from the folds of her gown. Such devices required powerful magic, and were used by the Harpers and their allies only in time of immediate need "Asper has been captured by a band of brigands. They demand ransom, and will take it only from her father's hand."
Khelben drew in a long, steadying breath. Asper was a fighter currently working near Baldur's Gate as a caravan guard. She was a tiny young woman, pert and dark and merry, but none the less deadly for her happy nature. She was also the adopted daughter and the heart's-blood of his friend Mirt. Although Mirt was a retired mercenary who could still provide a respectable fight, he was getting on in years. Khelben feared what this news would do to his friend, coming as it did so close to Larissa's tragedy. Still, he must be told.
"I'll let Mirt know at once," he said.
"I'll come with you," Laeral offered, but the archmage shook his head.
"No. it's better that someone remain here in case there's more word on Asper. I was planning to meet Mirt at the tavern, anyway."
"Ah. I'd forgotten it was the Like-Minded Lords' night out," Laeral said with a tiny smile. These six Lords of Waterdeep met regularly, sometimes to plan strategies and share information, but often just to enjoy their friendship.
Again the archmage descended the stairs into the city-beneath-a-city, this time taking a tunnel that led toward the Yawning Portal, the tavern owned by his friend Durnan. Khelben quickly made his way through a labyrinth of doors and passages and ladders that led him into the secret back room of the tavern.
The gathering of Lords was small and somber tonight Mirt, Durnan, and Kitten were waiting behind untouched mugs. Brian the Swordmaster arrived on Khelben's heels.
The archmage broke the news. Mirt listened in silence, then nodded and rose to him feet.
"Well I'm off, then," he said simply.
Durnan grasped his friend's plump wrist "Give me an hour to see to the tavern, lad. A lot of years have been washed downstream, but I'd be proud to ride with you again."
The retired mercenary shook his head, declining the offer of his friend and former comrade-in-arms. "Stay, Durnan, and see you to the city. There are too few of us left." With those words, Mirt disappeared down the ladder with an agility astonishing for a man of his size and years.
Mirt's words seemed to echo in the room "He's right you know," Kitten pointed out "First Larissa. Now Mirt is called away. Texter is off riding again, and only the gods know where Sammer is." She took a swig of her ale and grimaced. "Though they can hold their peace as far as that one's concerned."
Durnan nodded in agreement. The traveling merchant Sammereza Salphontis brought valuable information from the surrounding kingdoms, but he was not well liked by his fellow Lords
"Got more bad news," Brian said. "During the past ten-day, I've got near to thirty orders for scimitars."
"So business is