The Lost Library of Cormanthy - Mel Odom [37]
You can't change her, Xuxa said, and I fear a bad end for her.
She can take care of herself. Baylee turned cautiously in the hammock and stared off into the darkened forest. To the east, the sun was starting to taint the sky a rosy gray. It would be so easy to trail her through the forest. She was good at her woodcraft, but he was better. He could find her before noon.
But he knew he wouldn't. In a few minutes more, he fell back asleep. There was no hurry.
Tirdan Closl surveyed the wreckage inside Fannt Golsway's study, seeking to understand everything that had happened inside the house. He was a tall man, and broad, slower now in his mid-fifties than he had been as a younger man. His dark hair and beard were well kept by his wife, but he had a habit of pulling at it while he thought.
The carnage inside the home gave him plenty to think about.
"Sir," a young guard said behind him.
Closl turned. He was a senior civilar of the watch in Waterdeep, his leather armor strengthened with chain bearing the green, black, and gold that marked his station. He fisted the pommel of his short sword as he regarded the junior officer. "Yes, Daike?"
"I located the cook, sir." Daike looked around the room with wide eyes.
Closl didn't blame the boy. Despite all the fights and bar brawls that happened in Waterdeep that the watch took care of, nothing could prepare a man for the sight of his first wizard's battle. "Where is she?" the senior civilar asked in a gentle voice.
"Outside, sir. Her name is Qhyst. She asked that she not have to come in."
"Of course." Closl took another look at the ruined corpse of Fannt Golsway. The old mage was a crumpled shell of himself, lightning blasted so that his flesh had lost all its color, yet charred in places where the magicks trapped inside him had vented themselves. The early morning sunlight only made the horrific death seem even more evil. The watch senior civilar had been born a farm lad, brought to Waterdeep for a time to sail with the trading ships and see bits and pieces of the world, and had been with the watch for his last twelve years. He had seen such sights before, but not often.
Two men worked on Golsway's corpse. One was Hazra, a watch member trained as a physician. The other was Mintrivn, who was wise in the ways of magic. Both of them were there to determine exactly how Golsway had died. If possible.
"Daike," Closl said.
"Sir." The young man whipped his attention toward the senior civilar and straightened his carriage. Closl ran a tight shift.
"Help Oryan question the neighbors. She will need every man she can get to do it all properly."
Daike snapped a salute and led the way out of the room.
Closl sighed heavily and followed the younger man out. With a murder like this, all the weak members of the watch would be culled by the end of the week. Especially when Piergeiron, Warden of the Guard, Commander of the Watch, Overmaster of the Guilds, and Open Lord of Waterdeep announced that they were intent on bringing the person or persons responsible to justice.
He stepped into the hallway and found the cook. Surprisingly, besides the drawing room below and the study on the top floor of the house, little damage had been done. Whoever had done the killing had known exactly what they wanted and took no chances about getting it.
"Dame Qhyst," he said.
The cook turned to face him. She was a short woman, surprisingly comely for one who chose to work out of sight of most people in a wizard's home. Her dress was homespun, a pale green that set off her dark good looks. Her hands were weathered and red, the hands of a farmer's wife.
She curtsied, bowing her head. "Milord."
"No, Dame Qhyst, senior civilar will do nicely. Or Closl, if you feel so inclined. I am a working man, no lord." He bowed and gave her a smile, thinking of his mother when she'd been much younger.
"Senior civilar," she agreed.
"You understand what has happened?"
"Yes. Are you sure that Fannt Golsway is dead?" Tears glittered unshed in her eyes.
"There can be no mistake, dame.