The City of Splendors_ A Waterdeep Novel - Ed Greenwood [122]
All of this meant: No, he wouldn't have Elaith Craulnober thrown out, but he would allow Lark to send another lass to serve Elaith's meal.
The Serpent smiled approvingly. Yes, the wench was clever and quick-witted. Now if she proved light-fingered enough to get the slipshield from Taeros Hawkwinter without drawing attention, he'd be truly impressed.
The Gemcloaks were proving entertaining indeed. Young Korvaun Helmfast was unearthing information about Elaith's properties with impressive speed, digging into the Serpent's business with a determination usually managed only by dwarf miners. By now he undoubtedly knew Elaith held title to both the Slow Cheese and the tallhouse formerly owned by Danilo Thann-or to be more precise, those two piles of rubble. It would be interesting to see what young Lord Helmfast did with that information.
More interesting still was a slipshield right here in Waterdeep.
Did Taeros Hawkwinter know what sort of treasure he wore? Most likely not; its magic was nigh-impossible to detect.
Elaith twisted the small, silver ring that had first warned him of a slipshield at work, prompting him to seek out its bearer and confirm with his own eyes that a noble pup still wet behind the ears had the audacity to wear the winterhawk badge, the slipshield that had once protected King Zaor himself. The boy's family name, Hawkwinter, made a bad jest of one of Evermeet's great secrets.
Slipshields had never been plentiful. Borne only by royal guards of Evermeet who might have to act as a decoy for one of the royal family, they were so secret that, supposedly, only the ruling Moonflowers and their guards knew what a slipshield was. No one in Waterdeep-no one-should have been able to perceive the true nature of what the Hawkwinter carried.
Elaith knew it all too well. The silver ring on the smallest finger of his left hand allowed him to perceive slipshield spells. He'd left a similar ring behind when he'd fled the island kingdom all those seasons ago-it wouldn't have occurred to him, even in disgrace, to do otherwise-but Amnestria, his princess, his lost love, had brought him hers when she followed him across the seas, in hopes that it would help him remember what he'd once been.
Elaith thrust such thoughts from his mind to return to the puzzle of the slipshield. How had this so-secret creation of elves found its way to Waterdeep?
He lifted the goblet a nervous servant placed before him and sipped absently. So rare a magic; almost as rare as the humans of Waterdeep who might have dealings with fair Evermeet…
Laeral. Laeral Silverhand, the Lord Archmage's lady. She was a friend to Amlaruil of Evermeet. Perhaps the elf queen had granted this magic after the sahuagin attack to aid in the city's protection. It was unlikely anyone on Evermeet or in Waterdeep knew that a certain Serpent could detect slipshields.
Abruptly Elaith rose from his table and stalked out into the night. Its shadows swallowed him even before the angry steward emerged to send men rushing after the patron who'd paid not a nib.
They found no sign of the notorious elf, but the steward would have shivered to learn how close to him Elaith lounged, watching unseen as he waited with elven patience for the Notch to empty.
It was a long time later when Lark emerged alone, heading north with her light, quick stride. One of the Notch's better brawl-quellers stepped out of a doorway to trail behind her. Elaith was not at all surprised to see the green-eyed elf server emerge from the night to follow them both.
The Serpent joined the tail of this silent procession, a discreet distance behind the elf. When it became clear Lark was going straight to her dismal rooming house, Elaith took a parallel street, gliding along swiftly. Choosing a side way overlooked by no eyes he knew of, he stepped out right in front of the elf warrior.
For a moment she stared at him, her green eyes wide with wonder. Then, to Elaith's astonishment and chagrin, she went