The Kingless Land - Ed Greenwood [16]
Craer nodded and opened his mouth to speak again, but Hawkril rumbled, "Enough lies. Lady, I am Hawkril Anharu, armaragor; this is my friend Craer Delnbone, a procurer by trade; your father uses the title 'lastalan,' I believe. We both served the Golden Griffon, and are but lately returned from defeat in the Isles to find the Vale much changed. Our bellies growl emptiness, our purses hang slack, and we've long heard of a lady whose gowns drip with gems… are those blunt truths enough to win our swift deaths, or more patience of you?"
He thought the Lady Silvertree almost smiled before her eyes flickered and she asked, "Have you any other friends, allies, or hirelings here on Isle Silvertree?"
"No," Hawkril answered simply.
The Lady of Jewels turned her eyes to Craer, and said softly, "There-see you how it's done, Sir Procurer? Simple truth is a rare treasure in Aglirta, I've found. I value it." She looked back at Hawkril, and asked gently, "And your future plans?"
She raised a slender hand, cupping empty air as if she held a fire of leaping flames that caused her no pain.
Craer saw a short and dark future ahead, undertaking some deadly task as an expendable pawn of this slender, dark-eyed lady, and blurted, "Oh, no. Nay, Lady… slay us here and now if you must, but-"
An irritated, imperious hand waved him to silence. They saw the glitter of anger in Lady Silvertree's eyes again as she leaned forward to stare at them both. Anger, and something else… rising excitement? Then, almost impulsively, she commanded, "Sit. Sit and listen."
Her hand waved again, and the force pinning the two men was suddenly gone. They barely had time to stagger and find balanced stances again when the Lady Embra wove another quick spell.
Two gilt-trimmed stools thumped behind them, as if in greeting, and decanters rose in a stately parabola from a nearby side table to hang in the air beside their hands. The two men eyed these uneasily; even after the ornately curved vessels bobbed beckoningly in midair, neither moved to touch them.
Exasperation and disgust chased each other across the fine-boned face of the Lady of Jewels, and she crooked two fingers in a come-hither gesture as she snapped, "Sit down, horns to you!"
One decanter sped to her waiting hand like a bird fleeing a hunter's bow; she snatched it, pulled the stopper like a thirsty warrior, and took a swig. Then she did the same with the other. They watched her throat move in tense silence, and in like manner they received the glare that followed.
"See you? Safe, 'tis-now drink and be seated, gentle sirs! I grow weary of watching you peer at exits and tense to snatch at weapons. In case you hadn't noticed, it's late. Sleep beckons; I'd probably be able to enjoy slumber even with the riven bodies of two idiots sprawled bloodily at the foot of my bed."
She let silence fall and stared at them both, a clear challenge in her eyes. Hawkril answered it by sitting down heavily on his stool and taking hold of the decanter that was drifting smoothly back to him. He raised it, said roughly, "We mean you no harm. Your health, lady," and drank.
Craer stared at the armaragor as if he'd just grown a second head-and then sighed, shrugged, and followed suit. He was still wiping his lips with the back of one hand when he saw a little smile almost rise to her lips and her fingers trace a gentle weaving in the air.
The procurer sprang to his feet, choking as he tried to spit out what he'd taken in and at the same time swallow it so he could find breath to curse, but a strange, roiling tingling rose in his mouth before he could manage to snarl out a single word.
Craer froze, fingers not quite to the hilt of his nearest dagger, as he saw golden flames snarl out past his nose, flames coming from his own mouth, and mirrored by those spilling from the parted lips of Lady Silvertree. Gold flickerings curled past her chin, and he looked quickly at Hawkril, to see an identical conflagration-and look of astonishment-there.
"Be at ease, Craer," the sorceress said gently. "Even the fire