Masquerades - Kate Novak [111]
Ball, but since the king's demise, we celebrate it as a commemoration of his folly. Everyone will be there."
With a sigh, the swordswoman took the folded document from the merchant and turned it over. It was addressed to her and Dragonbait.
"Besides, we have a reason to celebrate. You've found the Faceless's lair. I know I ruined our chances trying to capture him by setting off that water trap, but once you get Durgar's men down there at the next low tide to clear out his treasury and that mask thing that protects him and his lieutenants-well, it will really only be a matter of sweeping up, won't it? Please, say you'll come." Victor reached out and took her hand. "You'll need to come anyway to hear what my father has to say-about the key. Besides, I've really been looking forward to dancing with you."
"I'll come, to hear your father explain the key to me and Durgar," Alias said. She tucked the invitation into the vest beneath her chain mail. "Maybe I'll dance," she added, "if I think then that I have something to celebrate."
The young serving boy came out to announce that Lord Victor's carriage was waiting at the front gate. Alias declined the merchant noble's offer of a lift back to Blais House.
Between feeling shy in front of both the carriage driver and Dragonbait and feeling less than attractive with her hair plastered against her head and the scent of sewage lingering about her, Alias was prepared to see Victor off with no more than a friendly squeeze of his hand. The young merchant apparently did not feel similarly inhibited. He pulled the swordswoman close and stole a quick kiss from her before he climbed up beside his carriage driver. "Until tomorrow," he said.
Alias nodded.
As the nobleman's carriage pulled away, Alias turned and looked toward the River Thunn. "I wonder how quickly the tide comes in."
Dragonbait did not reply. He was staring at the back of Victor's carriage, which seemed to have picked up a small, wet, halfling-sized bundle on the rear boot.
"Maybe," Alias said, "if we can get Durgar to hurry, well be able to clean out this lair before nightfall."
*****
One of the few joys of being half the size of the dominant race of Faerun, Olive reflected as she hung on to the low-slung storage area at the rear of Victor's carriage, is that unless someone is on the lookout for you, it's easy to hide just beside them. Even if the day were not ridden with fog, it was unlikely that she would be detected. She looked just like an old horse blanket someone had thrown in the back, and she was too light a stowaway for the horses to seem burdened. She kept her ears pricked during the ride through the city, out the West Gate, and through the countryside to Castle Dhostar, but Victor and his driver did not even attempt a conversation with one another. The halfling was not surprised. According to her mates at the Thalavar household, the Dhostars were very strong believers in the separation of stations.
Things might have been dicier for the halfling had their destination been a real castle with a curtain wall and guards at the portcullis, but Castle Dhostar was really just a very large manor house. Victor hopped down from the carriage, and, as the driver pulled away, Olive rolled out of the boot and slipped into the shadow of a yew tree by the drive. There were no guards at the front door, but, as Victor let himself in, he called for someone named Kane, and a butler appeared to take the merchant lord's sewer-drenched cloak.
Olive sneaked into the front hall as the butler was pulling off Victor's muck-encrusted boots. She slipped into the shadow beneath a table against the wall. As the servant handed the nobleman a pair of comfortable house slippers, Olive caught the words, "Your father… the library… soon as you arrive."
The halfling listened for the sound of Victor's retreating steps, and, as soon as the butler disappeared with Victor's wet things, she slipped down the hallway after the merchant lord.
Fortunately,