Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [61]
Music and Mayhem regrouped nearly a mile away. The three spooked horses had been captured and calmed by the time Dan arrived. Vartain had been revived, thanks to repeated doses from Mange's flask of rivengut. Morgalla's face wasdusty and bruised from the tumble she'd taken, but the tough little woman seemed otherwise unhurt.
Dan shook his head in astonishment and sank down on a large stone beside her. He wrapped an arm around her sturdy shoulders and gave her a quick hug. "Thank the Eternal Forge you're a dwarf,'' he murmured, borrowing a term from the mythology of her people.
"You can bet I do," Morgalla replied with a wink. "Loud and offen."
*****
The last silver of twilight faded from the Sea of Swords, and in the Dock Ward district of Waterdeep, business dealings became as dark and mysterious as the sea beyond. Those who knew the city and who wished to see the sun rise the next morning knew what alleys to avoid and which taverns served danger along with watered ale. The watch patrol assigned to the southern tip of the ward was therefore surprised to find a large and vocal group of merchants gathered at the corner of Dock Street and Wharf Street.
"Is there a problem?" the watch commander inquired as politely as possible, considering that she was shouting over the din of some three dozen angry voices.
"I should say!" The speaker was Zelderan Guthel, the head of the Council of Farmer-Grocers, and at his words the crowd quieted somewhat. Among its other responsibilities, the guild rented warehouse space to merchants of all kinds. The angry crowd was gathered in front of a large stone and timber warehouse built to provide winter grain storage. In off seasons, it was used to store the exotic goods specially made or imported for sale at the Midsummer Faire.
"This is a common facility, and protecting it is the city's responsibility! Just what do you intend to do?" An angry chorus of mutters echoed the guildmaster's question.
The captain scratched her chin. "Do? This area is well patrolled. We check this warehouse every twenty minutes!"
"Then whoever emptied the place went through us faster'n tainted stew," groused a dwarf in an ale-stained apron. "My tavern had over a hunnerd kegs o' mead stored here. The city better make good on it is all I got to say!"
"It always has." The captain took a small book and a quill from her bag. "I'll make a full report." She said, jotting down the dwarf's name and losses.
Others came forward, shouting out lists of missing goods and demanding action. Within minutes the four members of the watch patrol were hidden from sight surrounded by irate merchants jostling each other to give their reports. To all appearances, the crowd not been noticeably appeased.
Hoof beats echoed down the nearby alleys as reinforcements rushed in from other beats. The first mounted guardsman to arrive noted the glint of green and gold chain mail in the midst of the angry crowd, and he came to what seemed a reasonable conclusion. Brandishing a stout rod, he rode into the angry crowd, laying about briskly as he cleared a path that would free the beleaguered watch.
The merchants reeled back, revealing the four members of the regular patrol. The "rescued" watch captain stared up at the guardsman in horror and disbelief In her hands she held not a weapon, but a report book and a quill.
The silence that fell over the crowd was deep and uneasy. The dwarven tavern-keeper was the first to break it. Massaging a knot on his head from the guardsman's rod. he muttered, "The city better make good for this, is all I got to say."
* * * * *
Waves lapped at the wooden platform, sending a spray of salty water into the air. Lucia Thione leaped back, pulling her silken skirts away from certain ruin. "Where could this Hodatar be?" she fretted.