The City of Splendors_ A Waterdeep Novel - Ed Greenwood [56]
Jessra's frontage was… expansive, and the gems she'd glued all over them in a random array did nothing to detract from this.
She was also obviously of the school of taste that believes too much is better and had just tossed a pinch of glow-dust over her bosom. The effect was very much as if a lantern had been lit atop two… two…
Taeros whirled around to face Beldar, swept a flurry of cheeses off the little table, and with a finger wrote in the revealed dust beneath: Two blind whales trying to out-leap each other!
Beldar stared down at the symbols-a code they'd not used since they were young boys together, bored beyond yawns at the same revels. Then it all came back to him. He looked up again at Jessra Belabranta and whooped with helpless laughter.
Taeros promptly joined in, almost choking with mirth, as Malark sat there grinning at them and rolling his eyes.
Jessra cast them a slightly annoyed look through the trembling din of the sort that asks, "And just what do you find so amusing?"
That, of course, only made Beldar laugh all the harder, slapping the table hard.
As if that had been the proverbial last stroke of a woodsman's axe, the table fell through the balcony floor. The slowly building groan of wood that followed was almost deafening, and a startled Taeros stood and spun around in time to see…
All the balconies swaying, sliding, their support-pillars leaning…
Boards popped free, folk screamed, and patrons toppled helplessly over the low balcony rails.
Then everything was falling, with an enthusiastic roar.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Elaith Craulnober lounged against the doorpost, watching the fear that had leaped into the young woman's eyes. Apparently she wasn't a complete fool. He had yet to ascertain, however, exactly what she was.
He watched as she gathered herself with admirable speed. Her panic faded, and her softly curving smile of invitation was more subtle than most he'd received this night from fine Waterdhavian ladies. The dock whores of Luskan evidently bred a finer class of trollop.
"In truth, Lord Craulnober," she breathed, "I was hoping you'd follow me here."
The elf smiled. "You're pretty enough, by human standards, to add temptation to that offer," he said dryly, "but I can hardly leave my guests long enough to make a tryst worth my while or yours."
She cocked her head to one side. "Strange words from one who's not yet appeared among his guests."
"Oh? Who can say with assurance that I have not?"
The girl calmly made no answer. Some of Elaith's guests had responded to similar suggestions with barely disguised panic. Their eyes had grown wide and wild as they took hasty inventory of what they'd said, and to whom, and in whose hearing. This girl knew she'd committed no indiscretion. She'd said or done nothing, save intruding here, to offend her notorious host. That alone made her a rarity among his guests.
He regarded the girl with something approaching interest. "You must have been wandering about alone for quite some time to not have heard the whispers in the great hall."
"You'll have to be more specific, my lord," she replied. "Waterdeep knows no shortage of rumors."
"True enough. I'm not so thoughtless and inattentive a host as you suppose. While it's true I've not entered the great hall-at least, not as you see me now-I've received several of my guests at brief private meetings."
She nodded, understanding at once. "They leave your presence speaking of things you'd like to hear said when nobles talk with nobles, rather than making idle chat about the cut of your clothes and the quality of your wine."
"Well said," he told her approvingly.
"And, of course, the