The Dream Spheres - Elaine Cunningham [59]
"You mighta bought yourself a place on this caravan, elf, but these guards report to me," Rhep snarled.
"Really. Since when does Ilzimmer hire Eagle Riders?" Elaith inquired with a faint smile.
The big man snarled. "I work for Gundwynd," he said, nodding toward the small, gray-bearded man who bustled about securing cargo.
This was a lie, and Elaith knew it well. Rhep was a soldier for the Ilzimmer clan, but both he and the lords of that noble house took great pains to conceal this fact. This might, after all, lead into too close an inquiry into why a family of gem merchants had need for a mercenary army.
"I work for Lord Gundwynd," Rhep repeated, "and so do you, for as long as you ride with this caravan. A shame it is, that Gundwynd has fallen so low to be accepting the likes of you!"
Garelith stepped forward, his green eyes snapping at this insult. "Watch your tongue, human! This was the captain of the King's guard."
The man sneered. "Well, that makes him long out of a job, don't it? That elf king die on your watch, Craulnober?"
"Hardly," Elaith returned mildly, refusing to be baited by this oaf. "King Zaor's death occurred less than fifty years ago. I was well established in Waterdeep at this time and long before your ancestors started having carnal knowledge of goblinkin."
Dark, dull red suffused the big man's face. He unhooked the mace on his belt and began to raise it for the attack.
Elaith ducked under the weapon and stepped in close, a knife gleaming in each hand. The tip of one slender blade pressed up under the man's chin, and the other stood poised at the opening of his ear.
Rhep looked to the caravan guards for support. All four elves had long slender knives in hand, but their watchful eyes were on Rhep rather than his attacker.
"Treacherous scum," he spat. "You'll be paid in your own coin soon enough!"
"Perhaps you should explain that comment," Elaith said pleasantly. But just so that there was no mistaking this order for a suggestion-and because he simply felt like doing it-he gave the knife at the man's ear a little flick, cutting a small notch in the lobe.
Rhep bleated like a gelded ram. "Didn't mean nothing," he muttered. "Bad coin has a way of circling back, is all."
The elf was not certain whether this was a platitude or an evasion, but the dispute was beginning to draw attention, and Elaith was not willing to jeopardize his place on this caravan over a worthless, orc-spawned cur. He lowered his blades and stepped back, giving the man a small, ironic bow-an insult entirely lost on the clod. Rhep stomped off, muttering imprecations.
The elf watched him go, then turned to the Eagle Riders. "Watch him," he said in a low voice. "I know that man. Trouble follows close on his heels."
"He seems a buffoon," remarked Garelith, "but I will defer to your judgment. You know the clouds that gather around this particular mountain, and I trust you'll warn us of a coming storm."
This led to the next, more difficult warning Elaith felt obligated to deliver. "That will not be possible. You would do well not to be seen with me."
All four of the Eagle Riders looked puzzled. "Why?" demanded the one with eyes the color of topaz.
Elaith's smile held a self-mocking edge. "You will learn soon enough."
Before the young elves could press him, Elaith turned and walked away. Their exuberant adulation appalled him. At this moment, he would welcome almost any other company, so long as they regarded him with a proper, familiar mixture of fear and respect.
"Stones!" exclaimed a deep, gruff voice, with a vehemence that turned the word into a curse.
"A dwarf," muttered Elaith wearily. How could this day possibly get any worse?
"You mean to tell me we have to fly out west?" demanded the dwarf.
"A winged horse," said a persuasive female voice. "You're always saying there's nothing on four legs you can't ride."