The City of Splendors_ A Waterdeep Novel - Ed Greenwood [161]
"No," Korvaun said firmly. "Your word is good enough."
But the other three nobles neither nodded nor smiled.
The silence returned, and this time its weight was crushing.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Taeros sighed. "The slipshield's gone." Asper stiffened. He added hastily, "We think we know who has it."
Shapely eyebrows rose. "So get it back."
Korvaun winced. "That may be difficult. We believe it's now in the hands of Elaith Craulnober."
It was Asper's turn to wince. "I see. I quite see."
Her tone was dry and light, but her smile was wry, and concern stood in her eyes. "By and large, we leave the Serpent be. He conducts himself carefully, with an eye to not threatening governance of the city overmuch-and were we to eliminate him, the struggle to take his place would inevitably cause much bloodshed."
"We didn't come here to beg aid," Korvaun said quietly. "We consider this matter our responsibility, but if Taeros and I are to have any hopes of recovering the slipshield, we'll need help. To get it, I need you to relax my vow of silence, so I may share this secret with my lady. Naoni Dyre's a sorceress whose gift is to spin anything into thread. She does business with a gnome weaver in the Warrens, spinning precious stones into this." He patted his glittering cloak.
"A young woman carrying such treasures needs guarding. The halflings of the Warrens are as good as watchblades come, and have some swift fingers among them. The best hands to recover the slipshield are those of a thief. Am I right?"
"About most things, I'd wager," Korvaun murmured.
Her grin was impish. "Been talking to Mirt, have you? Lord Helmfast, you may tell your lady about the slipshield, swearing her first to the same oaths that bind you. I leave its recovery to you. Send swift word if the Serpent does anything… significant."
"Lady, we shall," Taeros replied. "Assuming, of course, we're still alive to do so."
* * * * *
Korvaun and Naoni stood together in the moonlight, gazing up into the Moon Sphere with unseeing eyes.
At least a score of laughing, chattering revelers floated in its softly glowing haze. On the balcony overhanging it, a pair of well-oiled young tradesmen were playing tickle-slap with an equally inebriated lass. She bubbled false protests and delighted giggles as they tipped her over the rail, skirts flashing, into the globe. She plunged into the iridescent haze like a sea-diver, righted herself, and joined an ongoing, languorous midair dance.
"I can't believe this," Naoni murmured. "Never once has Lark stolen from us-not so much as a honey cake! Why would she lie about Lord Hawkwinter's charm?"
"She spoke truth, just not the whole truth. Betimes what's left unsaid means more than what's uttered."
Naoni gnawed on her lip. "I know of some suitable halflings. If you've coin enough, let's go hire them right now-one to follow Lark, the other Beldar."
"I do, and thank you. 'Tis vital we retrieve the slipshield before anyone learns its secrets."
Naoni set off at a brisk pace, and Korvaun fell into step beside her. After a few strides, she said wistfully, "I hope you're wrong about Lark."
"So do I," he replied.
And while we're hoping, he thought grimly, let's hope all of Waterdeep's wrong about Elaith Craulnober.
* * * * *
Returning to The High House of Roaringhorn in his dirty, bloodied state had been surprisingly easy, once Beldar decided to swagger along with his sword half-drawn and his hand on its hilt. He'd greeted the curious stares of Watchmen and Roaringhorn servants alike with nods and grimly satisfied smiles, and passed on his way leaving them whispering and wondering.
In fact, life was surprisingly easy, he concluded grimly, when expectations were low. Men like him were a source of gossip and inconvenience. Fortunately, it was the nature of humankind that folk enjoyed the former sufficiently to consider the latter a fair price for their entertainment. The Watch would make inquiries