Elminster's Daughter - Ed Greenwood [68]
The door had the simplest of latches but also featured an ornate inner bar and two floorspike bolts, so Rhauligan undid a catch on his boot-heel and slid the heel off, exposing it as the hilt of a razor-sharp scriber.
A moment later, he was neatly removing the first shaped pane of glass, cut along its putty-lines, and reaching in to undo a floorspike. He had to work swiftly or Narnra would have time to descend the three levels or so from the window she'd entered to this floor and get below and past him… leaving him the entire gods-kissed, servant-crowded mansion to search for her in. Yes, the score was still rising…
Out of habit he kept casting glances back over his shoulder to make sure no one was on the wall or flying past-Why not? Some of these nobles sponsored or gave house room to apprentice mages, gaining the protection of thiefly fear of such guardians-to see him and raise the alarm… or just practice their skills at putting handy crossbow quarrels through intruding Harpers.
No such hazards presented themselves before Rhauligan got the doors open. Once the floorspikes were drawn up, the doors could be made to part enough to thrust his prybar between them, lifting the latch and thrusting the inside bar up and out of its sockets.
He had the door open swiftly enough to dart one hand out to deflect the falling bar from a crash down onto the floor-nice polished emeraldstone tiles, alternating in diamond-shapes with white marble-into a thudding impact with the nearest draped wardrobe or whatever it was and a fairly quiet tumble down the cloth to the floor.
The Harper restored the bar to its rightful place, sheathed his prybar, and advanced cautiously into the dark, quiet room. A mouse scurried from under one shrouded thing to under another, but otherwise… nothing moved but the dust. He was leaving a faint trail through it, he knew, and soon found the piled-up extra end of a too-large dust-sheet to wipe his boots on.
The room was large, and opened onto the next chamber of the mansion through a great tapestry-filled arch rather than doors. Rhauligan listened at the wall of cloth, hearing nothing, went to one end of it-rather than disturb it trying to find its center parting-and slipped his head around it.
He found himself looking at a large, dust-dancing stairwell, with a railed landing joining it to his room and others out of sight beyond the wall that cradled the stairs.
"Nothing," a voice called suddenly. "Something disturbed the doves, right enough-a gorcraw, mayhap-but none of 'em had any messages. I checked every blessed one."
Rhauligan hastily drew back a breath or two before a bored servant-woman whose bosom resembled a large sack of potatoes trudged down the nearest stair and went along the landing.
"Well, that's all right, then," another, sharper voice said from somewhere under Rhauligan's boots, presumably the next landing down. "So long as we miss nothing and catch no Lady-fury…"
"Huh," the large woman agreed, as she started down the next flight of steps and passed out of Rhauligan's view. "Can't be thieves, unless they can fl-" She stopped, stock-still and said in a different voice, "Hold, now! That was it-the window was shut! Shut and latched! One of them birds 'prolly came flying to get in and smacked right into the glass! Send Norn down to check for one lying in the gardens, and get the lantern-oh, and fire-pokers for the both of us! I'm not going back up there alone!"
"Aye," Sharp Voice agreed, her voice fading as she descended unseen stairs, "but what sort of thief shuts a window behind his-self?"
"An idiot thief, that's what sort!" Lumpy Bosom replied sourly, almost driving Rhauligan to chuckle.
You have that right, goodwoman, you do indeed… and I'm assigned to be her keeper, more's the pity…
No, that was unfair. The Waterdhavian's only mistakes had been to blunder after a wizard to get here-and to run from half the gathered War Wizards and Harpers in the realm.
Well, she'd ended up with only one following her, hadn't