Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [7]
Kitten yawned widely. "So? The bards are the only ones who care about such things, and as long as they're happy, what's the harm in it?"
"Many bards may die happy," Khelben said. "Not only have the old ballads been changed, but new ones have somehow been grafted into the bards' memories. The elf minstrel brought to my attention a new ballad that could lure many Harpers to their deaths. It urges Harper bards to seek out Grimnoshtadrano for some insane riddle challenge."
"Old Grimnosh? The green dragon?" Mirt grimaced. "So this is more than a fancy prank; it's a fancy trap. Any idea who's behind it?"
"I'm afraid not," the archmage admitted. "But the ballad mentions a scroll. If a bard can retrieve it from the dragon, I may be able to trace the spell's creator."
"Well, there you go," Kitten said. "Bards are easy enough to come by."
Khelben shook his head. "Believe me, I've tried. Every available Harper bard in the Northlands seems to be afflicted, and therefore any one of them could be an unwitting tool of the spellcaster. Therein lies the problem. Who's to say that an enspelled bard won't take the scroll to his hidden master? No, we need a bard whose wits and memories are his own."
"What of the elf, the one who brought you this tale?" Larissa suggested.
"For one thing, he's not a Harper," the archmage said. "But more important, to succeed in this quest, a bard must understand both music and magic. The scroll mentioned in the ballad is most likely a spell scroll, and if that is so, reading the scroll means casting a spell. The elven minstrel has had no wizard training. And you know what would likely occur if I sent an elf to face a green dragon."
"Breakfast, lunch, or dinner would occur," Kitten said flatly, "depending on the time of day. So what are you going to do?"
"I've sent out inquiries, hoping to find someone farther afield whose gifts are unchanged." The archmage's frustration was almost palpable.
The friends sat in silence for a long moment. Brian stroked his chin thoughtfully before he spoke. "Seems to me you'll have to do like the rest of us, Blackstaff; make do with what you can get. Maybe there's a mage among the Harpers who could pass as a bard. Know you anyone like that?"
Khelben Arunsun stared at the swordmaster for a long moment Then he dropped his head into his hands, slowly shaking his head as if in denial. "Lady Mystra preserve us, I'm afraid I do."
* * * * *
Far to the south of Waterdeep, a young man strode whistling into the entrance hall of the Purple Minotaur, the finest inn in Tethyr's royal city. He nodded to the beaming innkeeper and made his way through the crowded gaming hall on the inn's opulent first floor.
Manypairs of dark eyes marked his passing, for Danilo Thann was somethingof anoddity in the insular and sometimes xenophobic southern city. His mannerand appearance clearly proclaimed his northernheritage: he was tall and lean, and his blond hair fell in thick waves to his shoulders. Mischief lurked in his gray eyes, and his face wore a perpetual smile and an expression of open friendship and guileless youth. Despite his callow appearance, Danilo had recently established himself as a successful and popular member of the wine merchants' guild. He was also vastly wealthy, and not at all loathe to spend money. Many of the regular patrons glanced up from their cards or dice and greeted him with genuine pleasure, and a few called out invitations to join in the gaming. But this evening Danilo's arms were piled high with neatly wrapped packages, and he seemed particularly eager to examine his newly acquired treasures. Tossing back greetings and banter as he went, he hurried toward the curving marble staircase near the back of the gaming hall, and he bounded up the stairs three at a time.
When Danilo reached his bedchamber, he tossed his purchases onto the embroidered pillows that were heaped on the Calimshan carpet. He snatched up a long, slender package and unwrapped it, revealing a gleaming sword.