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By Root 628 0

reluctantly, and the trio settled down around Danilo's fire. The nobleman began to rummage in his bag, drawing forth a small cookpot, a tightly covered dish of salted fish, a package of dried mushrooms, a package of herbs, a large silver flask of water, and another containing a dry cooking wine. Hasheth watched agape as each item appeared from the small sack. ”It's magic,“ Danilo explained as he deftly combined the ingredients. ”The bag holds much more than appearances would indicate.“ The young assassin quickly masked his astonishment. ”No porcelain? No linens, no candelabra? You have adapted well to the rigors of travel, I see,“ he noted with keen sarcasm. ”I try to keep a civilized touch,“ Danilo said mildly. ”Under the circumstances, that might not be easy.“ Arilyn caught the underlying warning in her companion's voice. ”Do you still have any of that coffee, Dan?“ she asked quickly. Hasheth brightened at the mention of the ubiquitous southern beverage. ”I would be happy to prepare it. No northerner has the ability to brew a decent cup."

“Such a gracious offer,” Danilo said dryly. He rummaged in his bag again, found an oddly shaped covered pot and a package of ground coffee beans, then tossed them to the boy. Hasheth took up the water flask and busied himself with the task. When the coffee was ready, Hasheth filled Arilyn's mug and handed it to her with a courtly bow. Then, almost as an afterthought, he poured another cup for Danilo. Coffee was not widely known in the northern lands, but Arilyn had grown quite fond of it during their travels southward. Hasheth's offering was thick, black, and syrupy, identical to the coffee she had tasted in a dozen Amnian bazaars. She inhaled deeply, and her sharp elven senses picked up a foreign note in the fragrant steam. She caught Danilo's eye, glanced down at his mug, and gave a subtle shake of her head. The mage raised his eyebrows and painted an “I told you so” smirk on his countenance. “Would you be offended if I didn't drink first?” she asked Hasheth. “Of course not. Only the prudent live to old age,” the lad replied graciously. He reached for her cup, offering, “I myself shall taste it for you.” The half-elf had anticipated that response, and the faint gleam in Hasheth's eyes confirmed her suspicions. Without doubt, he had an immunity to whatever poison he'd slipped into the coffee. It was one of the less common and more subtle tricks of a skilled assassin's repertoire. “I would not dishonor you with such a task,” Arilyn said with grave formality. “Actually, I'd thought of feeding the coffee to your horse.” Hasheth's smug expression melted into the slack frustration of defeat, and he pounded the ground with balled fists. “Why?” he blurted out. “Why have the gods sent you to torment me!” The half-elf waited until the boy's rage was spent. “Why would your masters want you dead, Hasheth?” “Apart from the obvious reasons, of course,” Danilo added. Hasheth turned furious eyes on his captors. “Can you not hear? My masters decreed that you must die, elfwoman. Then I can advance to the next sash level.” “Let's step into reality for a moment, shall we?” Danilo drawled. “Our home is many days to the north. Didn't it occur to you that an assassin whose reputation had traveled so far might prove a bit of a handful to someone your age? Besides, the lady doesn't wear a sash.” The dandy's eyes swept over Arilyn's plain traveling clothes: trousers, shirt, and a long, dark cloak. “Or any other ornament, for that matter,” he added in an aggrieved tone. Before the young man could respond, Arilyn broke in. “How old do you think I am?” Hasheth blinked, clearly puzzled by her question. His eyes traveled over her delicate features, curly raven hair, and slender form. “Three-and-twenty rains,” he guessed. Arilyn shook her head. 'Try three-and-forty.“ ”It is not possible,“ Hasheth protested, his brow furrowed in disbelief. ”You are young and most beautiful.“ She brushed back her thick curls to display pointed ears, faintly tinged with blue at the tips. ”I'm a half-elf, remember? I'll probably outlive