The City of Splendors_ A Waterdeep Novel - Ed Greenwood [177]
Whereupon Lord Starragar Jardath turned with a flourish and pressed his lips against hers, kissing Phandelopae into startled silence. Their clinch continued-as Faendra and then Naoni stared in astonishment-until the tall Athkatlan moaned and moved ardently against Starragar.
"Ah, the dour act melts them every time," Beldar Roaringhorn purred, stepping out of the crowd to run a teasing finger up the exposed and sleekly muscled Melshimber back as if her gown had been designed to lay it bare just for him. "Fair shine the Midsummer Moon on our meeting, friends! I see the fair Lark conquers all, as usual!"
"Well met, old friend," Korvaun Helmfast said firmly and heartily, reaching out an arm to embrace Beldar, who grinned, bowed floridly to Naoni, then rose to clasp Korvaun warmly.
"Full battle-steel this night, I see! The martial look-a fine choice!"
"We are ever tasteful," Taeros purred, winking. Faendra giggled, and a faint smile rose to Lark's lips. Still wearing it, she gave Lord Roaringhorn a firm nod.
He smiled and nodded back. "I hope we shall all have a chance to-but hark! Eleven bells already? I must pay my respects to our hosts without delay!"
"About our hosts," Roldo said suddenly. "What if someone decides to put a dagger through Piergeiron in all this rub-elbows chatter? Or Mirt, for that matter?"
"No fear," Korvaun said quietly. "Not until swords are out openly, at least. Look you behind Piergeiron."
"In the shadows?"
"Aye; what see you?"
Roldo peered, as Taeros accepted drinks for them all, and deftly snared a platter of fancy-fish from a passing servant.
"Someone… no, two heads. Men, sitting down."
"Not mere men: Madeiron Sunderstone, the Lord's Champion, and the other is Tarthus, Piergeiron's pet guardian wizard. Near as deadly as the Lord Mage Khelben himself, they say."
It was at that moment that Naoni Dyre drove a clawlike hand into her sister's leg. Faendra squealed, gave her a glare and then froze at the sight of her pale face and horrified stare, and reluctantly followed it.
Across the cavernous but crowded hall, resplendent in gaudy flame-orange silks that would have looked better on him if they'd been cut to fit or he'd been a bit less, as ladies were wont to say, "ample of haunch," Jarago Whaelshod was proudly escorting a lush beauty the Dyres knew was a highcoin lady from the Lasheira's Low Lamps festhall, because she frequently needed Faendra to repair torn gowns.
The master carter had stopped to display his nicely gowned ornament to… someone else strolled out of the way, and Naoni and Faendra gasped in unison: Karrak Lhamphur, in a green swallowtail jackcoat of great lushness, that made him seem to be an officer of some unknown but far-behind-the-times navy. Lhamphur, too, had brought a beautiful female along, but at least he'd had enough measure of honor to have it be his wife.
The two New Day members were not much more damaging to watching eyes than dozens of the wincingly clad, overexcited, ill-at-ease tradesmen here in the Silks this night, but they could hardly fail to recognize the two daughters of Varandros Dyre… and worse: if they'd been invited and had seen fit to attend, so too probably had the Shark of Stonemasons himself!
"Father!" Naoni gasped. "He must be here, somewhere!"
"Gods, what if he sees us?" Faendra wailed.
"What of it?" Korvaun asked quietly. "You're both among the brightest flowers in all this hall, and do him proud. Moreover, you're conducting yourselves as ladies-though, Faendra, might I warn that ladies don't squeal?-and we shall treat you with all chaste honor, wherefore he should see nothing to cause him complaint."
"Indeed," Roldo put in helpfully. "Just act and speak as if your father's standing right behind you, henceforth, and you should be fine."
Lark and Phandelopae Melshimber snorted in unison at these words and then gave each other challenging glares.
"The Mistresses Dyre are greatly comforted by your helpful suggestion, I'm sure," Taeros Hawkwinter observed sarcastically.
Naoni and Faendra exchanged unhappy glances, but they'd have been