The City of Splendors_ A Waterdeep Novel - Ed Greenwood [16]
"At least you still have a brother," Starragar said sharply. "Roldo wasn't so fortunate."
An uncomfortable silence fell. Roldo Thongolir was still on his wedding trip. His older brothers had both died in the defense of Waterdeep, leaving him heir. Roldo was a fine companion, the first to lift tankard in tribute and a stout lad at your back in a tavern brawl, but he was fashioned to follow, not to lead, command, or administer. Thongolir elders had swiftly chosen a bride for him, a brisk and competent young woman who would manage the family fortune capably and, no doubt, Roldo as well. Never was a man less suited to the duties of a noble of Waterdeep, but Roldo did as his family bade without a word of complaint.
Beldar cleared his throat sharply and nodded at the crate. "Roldo's is of rose quartz, as he honors the Morninglord."
"A thoughtful gift," Malark said with a grin, "and practical. With one of us sporting pink, we're sure to be invited to a brawl early on. Get the fighting over and done first, and we can devote the better part of the night to the ladies."
"As to fighting," Beldar said firmly, "if Roldo had been here, he'd have acquitted himself better than either of his brothers. 'Tis Waterdeep's misfortune that none of us were here when the attack came."
"And ours," Taeros added under his breath.
Though none of them liked to admit it, they all wore the weight of unintended absence from the battles. Who'd have expected the sea to erupt with scaly beasts bent on destroying Waterdeep?
One and all, they were younger sons of proud Waterdhavian noble houses. Come every spring, until circumstances or family decrees thrust them into posts of responsibility, they were expected to wander and learn the ways of rivals, buyers, and would-be clients in the family trades all across Faerun. If much of their time was spent in festhalls and taverns, did that make them wastrels any idler than their sires had been? Didn't every traveling merchant of Waterdeep do as much, insofar as coins allowed?
A shared sigh of relief arose in the room when Beldar's eyes lit with new mischief. He pointed out the nearest window. Across crowded and ramshackle rooftops, one structure stood out, bright with new timbers and scaffolding-one of many Dock Ward buildings damaged in the sahuagin fighting. Fire had all but gutted it, but restoration was well underway.
"See yon scaffolding? All those ropes?" Beldar smiled. "An excellent place for some fun, I'm thinking…"
"A battle!" Malark said gleefully. Slapping his knees, he bounded to his feet. "Beldar and I against you three."
"Beldar's the best sword among us, and you're the biggest and strongest," Starragar complained.
"Two against three," Beldar pointed out, "and you've got Korvaun. He's nearly as good as I am."
This teasing boast brought a bow from Korvaun and a groan from the others. It occurred to Taeros that-Beldar's claim notwithstanding-if one set aside flamboyance and showmanship, it just might be that Korvaun could best them all. Moreover, Korvaun probably knew as much, but considered it unworthy of mention.
Not that it mattered. The day was fair, and the glorious game unfolding once more! Amid general laughter and swirling of new finery, Taeros tucked his things into his satchel and became the rearguard of the general rush downstairs.
* * * * *
"I cannot believe," Beldar Roaringhorn announced in aggrieved tones, whirling his drawn sword in a gleaming flourish to underscore his pique, "that some fool-head of a shopkeeper needs a building of this size to sell a few sandals."
"And I," Starragar added, "find myself mired in similar disbelief that a shop on Redcloak Lane in Dock Ward can truly sell 'Fine' anything."
"Well, then," Malark roared, drawing a frown from a worker peering down over a fire-scorched sign proclaiming this no mere half-rebuilt shop, but the one and only Candiera's Fine Shoes and Sandals, "we are collectively affronted. Does this establishment deserve a continued existence? I say no!"
"Whereas I," Taeros responded with a grin,