Elfsong - Elaine Cunningham [71]
"Where? In the ground, I would imagine. Granted, I'm no expert…"
"That is not what I meant" Vartain broke in impatiently. "Where is this herb-flavored wine produced? This could be important!"
Danilo thought it over. "Now that you mention it, my teacher from MacFuirmidh spoke of the vast herb gardens and vineyards that surrounded the college. The school has fallen into decline, of course, but the wineries are a thriving business. At least, they were until this very season," Danilo added slowly. "Nearly three moon cycles past, there were severe crop failures, and the herb gardens and vineyards were almost destroyed. I was in Tethyr at the time, working among the wine merchants there. The southern vintners were delighted by this development as you can well imagine."
"You know what this means, of course." Vartain's tone contradicted his words, and he waited for the young Harper to admit his ignorance.
"Sorry to disappoint you," Danilo said evenly, "but I'm afraid I do." The riddlemaster's brows flew upward in surprise, earning a half-smile from the Harper. "At the height of bardcraft, there were seven elder barding colleges, ranked in order of honor and importance. An aspiring bard would attend them all in a specific order, working his way toward the status of master bard. Our mysterious foe seems to be enacting a bizarre parody of this. The first of these barding colleges was Foclucan, which was located in Silverymoon. There a spell was cast on the bards and ballads. I have no idea how it was done. You were there, Wyn; care to hazard a guess?"
"Not quite yet," the elf replied in a tight voice.
'The crops faded abruptly and mysteriously, not long after the events at Silverymoon's Spring Faire. The event is described in the second stanza, which makes reference to MacFuirmidh, the second of the barding colleges."
Danilo paused and took a deep breath. "Two is a coincidence, three forms a pattern. If the third stanza"-he paused and pointed to the spot on the blank page where the words would appear-"if this names the town of Berdusk and the barding college known as Doss, then we will know to expect a total of seven spells. We will also know the path our foe will take."
"Well done," Vartain said grudgingly.
"There is more," Danilo added. "I began this quest thinking only to remove the curse on the bards. This is clearly only one part of the problem. Finally, I doubt that these curses were chosen randomly, they all probably contribute to some ultimate goal. This we must discover, so that we can find and stop the spellcaster before that goal is accomplished. It's imperative that you solve the riddles as quickly as possible, so that we know what form the other spells take."
The riddlemaster seemed taken aback by the command in Danilo's tone. "I am in the employ of Elaith Craulnober," he reminded the Harper.
"Elaith and I seem to be partners in this effort," Danilo countered. "You work for both of us now. Think about this, before you limit your allegiance: Elaith wants to possess the artifact, but I want the person behind all this. Can you honestly tell me you wouldn't relish the chance to match wits with the author of this riddle scroll?"
That thought flickered in the riddlemaster's large black eyes, then caught fire. Danilo noted the gleam of dawning obsession and was satisfied. He rose to his feet and walked off to waken the camp, and to give Vartain time to assimilate the Harper's goal as his own.
Music and Mayhem were on their way by sunrise. At Danilo's insistence-and for the price of another gem from the dragon's hoard-Balindar guided Vartain's horse with a leading rein, so that the riddlemaster could devote himself to the study of the scroll as he rode.
Wyn and Morgalla rode side by side, as was becoming their custom. It was clear to Danilo that the dwarf had found in Wyn the musical mentor she craved, but, as much as he hated to disturb their camaraderie, he needed time to convince Wyn to share elfsong magic. So soon after his conversation with Vartain, broaching this subject made Danilo feel as if he were a juggler