Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [69]
Danilo paused, and the struggle of conflicting pledges was clearly written on his face.
"I'll make it easier for you," Elaith offered, and he turned to Balindar. "You seem fond of the dwarf's company, so I'm placing her in your charge. If Lord Thann proves treacherous, kill her." The black-bearded mercenary hesitated, then gave a terse nod.
"This is how you honor your agreements?" Danilo protested.
"My agreement is with you, not her. If you like, I will swear by whatever oath you choose that I will not raise a hand or weapon against you personally."
"That's vastly comforting."
"Whatever else might be said of me, my word is still a pledge of honor," the moon elf said with quiet dignity.
Danilo glanced toward Morgalla. She stood with arms crossed, glaring up at the huge mercenary who guarded her. Balindar had a rather sheepish expression on his black-bearded face, but he held a sword on the dwarf and would probably not hesitate to use it. The Harper had little choice.
"Well?" the elf prompted. One silvery eyebrow quirked at a sardonic angle. "Have we a deal?"
"Agreed. I suppose."
Elaith chuckled. "Such enthusiasm! Perhaps you are the sort who listens to rumors, that you fear to share the supposed fate of my former partners?" he taunted.
"A bard, listen to rumors? What a notion," Dan marveled. "But now that you mention it, partner,should I be concerned?"
The elf thought that over. "Probably," he agreed pleasantly.
After instructing Danilo to hand the scroll over to Vartain, Elaith told Balindar to stand down. The mercenary sheathed his sword with a profound sigh of relief, and nodded apologetically to Morgalla. Wyn Ashgrove, pale with fury and outrage, drew the dwarf safely away from the fighters, then he stalked off alone into the shadows. Danilo followed, fearing what the elven spellsinger might have in mind and hoping to calm him. Morgalla took a place at the far side of the camp and began to sketch furiously.
Left alone with his men, Elaith beckoned them close. "We take no chances." the elf said in a cold voice. "Balindar, your order is not rescinded. If Lord Thann attempts to go his own way, the dwarf dies. The Harper understands that; see that you remember it, as well. And you," he said, pointing to another of his men, "at first opportunity, steal Thann's magic ring and give it to me. We don't want him grabbing his precious dwarf and blinking out of here."
"I?" balked the man.
"Don't be coy," Elaith snapped. "All of us here know that you're a skilled thief. Use your skills as I command, and there should be no reason for others to share this knowledge. You would hardly be welcomed into the salons of Waterdeep or featured at Lady Raventree's parties if it became known that you started life as a street urchin. Am I making myself clear?"
"Quite," his victim replied with uncharacteristic brevity.
"Good. Mange, you and Tzadick take first watch. Balindar, guard the dwarf Vartain, you and Thann start working on that scroll. The rest of you get what rest you can. I fear we've a hard road ahead."
*****
In the privacy of his rented villa, Lord Hhune of Tethyr savored a late supper with a few of the higher-ranking agents of the Knights of the Shield. He was almost jovial this evening, delighted with the unusual turn his trip to Waterdeep had taken. His initial dislike of Garnet had been set aside, for the role the half-elven sorceress had given him to play dovetailed beautifully with his own ambitions. Hhune was a guildmaster in his own land, and this splendid northern city had real potential. It lacked guilds for thieves and assassins, and these he was busily putting in place. Waterdeep was in some ways too well run for its own good: there were few powerful crime organizations to challenge Hhune's activities.
Even Hhune's immediate prospects were pleasant, for he was enjoying a thick oyster stew and the report of one of his best agents. The thin, furtive Amnite who was known only as Chachim always seemed to surpass expectations.
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