The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [56]
"You have taken long enough in returning," she said with an artful pout.
Danilo acknowledged her comment with a slight bow but directed his first response to the patriarch, as custom demanded. "It has been quite some time since I studied with Lord Eltorchul." He bowed again to the old mage. "I have been remiss, sir, in not paying my respects sooner."
The mage sent a fond, long-suffering look at his daughter. "It is a comfort to see that not all of Waterdeep's young have forgotten their manners! Lord Thann, my apprentice said you wished to speak to me concerning my son Oth, about a matter you could not entrust to another?"
"That is so. Perhaps we could speak in private?"
Lord Eltorchul glanced at Arilyn for the first time. His brow furrowed in disapproval. Whether his displeasure had to do with her half-elven heritage or the fact that she carried a sword instead of a spell bag, Arilyn could not say. "In private. Yes, by all means," he murmured.
"By no means!" retorted Errya. She stooped to pick up a passing cat and glared at her father over the animal's head. "That wretched apprentice of yours said that our visitors had word of Oth. I wish to hear it."
Lord Eltorchul seemed resigned to let her have her will. He led the way past a display of three sets of plate armor. Though the helmet visors were raised to reveal empty suits, all three "knights" lifted their mailed fists in a sharp, clanking salute. The elderly mage took no notice of this but ushered his guests past the guards into a small side parlor. Once all were seated and offers of wine or tea or snuff made and refused, he settled down with a heartfelt sigh.
"What has my son done now?"
"Sir, I regret to bring ill news. Just this morning, I went to Oth's tower on some impulsive errand." Danilo glanced at Arilyn, silently bidding her to let him tell the tale as he saw best. "The door was ajar. No one was there to answer my hail, so I took liberty to enter and investigate. I found the study in fearful disarray. There had been a struggle, and I was too late to give aid. My lord, I am deeply sorry."
The old mage stared at him, not yet comprehending. "A struggle? What manner?"
Arilyn leaned forward, ignoring Danilo's silent warning. His intentions were good, but she believed that a quick cut was kindest. "It appears that your son was killed by tren-powerful lizardmen who kill for hire. I am sorry."
Lord Eltorchul let out a small, choked sound of dismay. Arilyn's gaze flicked to Errya. The young woman received the news stoically. Her painted lips had thinned to a tight line, and her face was set as if in marble. Arilyn turned back to the mage.
"I am sorry to ask this, but do you know of any who might have wished Oth's death?"
Lord Eltorchul looked down at his clenched hands. "No. None at all." He lifted dazed eyes. "He is gone? You are certain of this?"
"The tren left a sign." Danilo explained the situation as delicately as possible, and then handed the man the ring he had taken from Oth's hand. "I saw this ring in your son's possession, not more than two days ago."
"Yes. It is his," the mage muttered. "I have seen him wear it. It is true, then. He is gone."
"Yes, but perhaps you know of a high-ranking priest…"
A bit of hope lit the old man's eyes as he caught Danilo's meaning. "Yes. Yes! If there is a possibility-"
"There is not," snapped Errya. Her hands clenched at the gray tabby in her lap, drawing a hiss of protest from the animal. "I know my brother better than you do, Father. He would not wish resurrection. He is a wizard, and he despises clerics and their magic! Do you think Oth would want a gift from such hands, even if it were his own life?"
"I suppose you are right," Lord Eltorchul said in a weary, defeated tone. He slumped forward and buried his face in his hands.
His daughter turned a spiteful gaze upon their visitors. "That suggestion was unworthy of you, Danilo, but