The Howling Delve - Jaleigh Johnson [60]
Marstil nodded wordlessly.
"Most importantly, you will weai this medallion always, •Marstil," Kail said, in a voice of quiet menace. "If ever I see you've taken it off, I will take off your head. You may be assured I will enjoy that far more than I enjoy letting you live."
He stepped back. Marstil fled the study, taking Lathander's sun and leaving his jeweled blade.
Kali followed him out into the ballroom. A lady standing nearby scuttled aside to avoid colliding with the running merchant. She watched his retreating back in consternation.
Kail swept up to her and bowed grandly. "Lady Tanislove," he said, smiling his most charming smile, the one that never worked on Cesira, "might I request a dance?"
"Try this one," Laerin suggested, snagging a flute of a br uise-colored liquid from a passing tray. "If you sip it with a bite of cheese, the flavor becomes blueberry tart." He sipped and chewed thoughtfully. "Uncanny."
Morgan wedged a morsel of cheese between his cheek and jaw and took a gulp of wine. "Save a lot of trouble if you just eat the tart." He wrinkled his nose. "Probably tastes better, too."
"Yes, but you have to get in the spirit of things," Laerin chided him. "Tethyrian Blueberry Blush is much more expensive."
"Silly name too." Morgan's eyes were on the crowd. "Didn't know you were a wine snob."
"I am a man of many tastes and talents."
"Good thing shovelin's near the top of the list, cause you're knee-deep in sh-"
"Zzar," Laerin cooed, reaching for another tray.
"Careful!" Morgan grabbed a fistful of the half-elfs hair, hauling it and the rest of his friend behind one of the ballroom's marble statues.
"Morgan, why are we hiding, and do I happen to have any hair left, or did you take it all?" Laerin asked calmly.
"Shut it." Morgan pointed across the ballroom, where Kail strode along on the arm of a lady in a green silk gown with fine silver chains encircling her arms from shoulder to wrist. The woman lifted het lips to Kail's ear to whispet something that made him chuckle.
Morgan shook his head. "That'll get him a punch in the bowels-two silver on it."
Laerin sighed. "Cesita would never maim him for flirting with Lhynvor Tanislove. The lady has more sense than that."
Well said. Cesira's arm slid companionably around Laerin's waist, accompanied by a scent that was both flower and herb, exotic and completely removed from the heavily perfumed bodies in the ballroom. I don't believe you flattering idiots were on the guest list.
"Ten families seemed a modest number for a welcome home party," said Laerin. "What harm is there in adding two more guests?"
"We didn't come in under 'flattering idiots,' " Morgan grinned. "We're in disguise."
"Obviously, it's wotking well," Laerin said dtyly, but he sobered quickly enough. "We're here to keep eyes on Kail."
"Too many debt-collectors in the room," said Morgan.
Laerin looked at her askance. "Surely you don't object?"
Not at all, Cesira said. But Kail will-with fervor. I welcome you, so long as you stay silent and invisible.
"Not two of Motgan's greatet talents, but we'll do our best," Laerin assured her. He took a step back, surveying the druid's gown. A wide belt at her waist gatheted layets of skirts in subtle shades of earthen red. Worked into the belt's dark leather was the figure of an oak leaf, the symbol of Silvanus. Slashed sleeves tevealed tanned arms and matching leather bands encircling each of her wrists. "I'll say this, since I'm certain Kali hasn't thought to," the half-elf said, "these fine Amnian frill-lovers have nothing on you, Lady of Mir."
Cesira inclined her head to hide her smile. My thanks, O flattering idiot.
Laerin laughed.