Thornhold - Elaine Cunningham [100]
At last the final remove was carried away and sweet wine poured to end the meal.
“Lord Piergeiron, we have a grave matter to bring before you,” Sir Gareth began. “We seek your assistance in finding a certain young woman, whom we believe might have stolen an artifact sacred to the Knights of Samular. Her name is Bronwyn. She is comely and brown as a wren, of small stature. We wish to learn more about her and her associates.”
The paladin politely wiped his lips on the edge of the tablecloth, as was proper in good company, then turned to his brother knight. “I do not know of this woman, but I will have inquiries made. You have my word as the son of Athar, what I learn, you will know.”
* * * * *
Solitude was a rare pleasure, and Danilo had intended to make the most of it. He had set aside the afternoon for private study and informed Monroe, his able halfling steward, to admit no one. He was more than a little annoyed, therefore, to have his fierce concentration broken by a tapping at his study door.
“Yes? What is it?” lie said, not bothering to look up from the arcane runes.
“Lord Arunsun to see you, sir. Shall I show him in?”
This time he did look up from the spellbook, startled by these most unexpected words. He met the haifling’s gaze with a rueful smile. “Only if you can’t think of a better plan,” he said dryly.
“None comes to mind, sir,” Monroe said with an admirable lack of inflection. He bowed and then hastened out to fetch his master’s guest.
Danilo sighed. Khelben did not often visit him in his home, most likely because he was discomfited by the extravagance of the house’s furnishings, the many musical instruments that lay readily at hand, and the bards and revelers who always seemed to be gathered at table or making merry in the parlor. Today Danilo was alone but for the discrete ministrations of the steward and the half dozen or so servants under his command. Dan had planned to learn a new spell. Hastily he opened a drawer in his table and thrust the book out of sight. Although he still kept to the study of magic that his uncle had started twenty years before, he was careful to downplay his interest in the art. It would not do to raise the archmage’s hopes overmuch.
“Uncle!” he said heartily, rising to meet his visitor. He beckoned the archmage in and reached for the decanter of elven feywine that stood on his writing table. “Had you sent word you were coming, I would have had cook stir up something thick and bland in your honor.”
“I’ve eaten.” Khelben waved away the offer of wine and took the seat across from his nephew’s writing table. He glanced at the new Calishite carpet that covered most of the polished wood floor with a tapestry in rich shades of red and cream, but for once did not comment on this latest extravagance. “You have heard of the recent influx of paladins to the city?”
So that was it, Danilo mused. No doubt Khelben was concerned about the possible connection with Bronwyn and had come to hear a report and deliver advice-advice that Danilo almost certainly would not wish to follow.
“Rumors travel,” Danilo agreed lightly. Suddenly he dropped his faзade of determined cheerfulness and sank back into his chair. There were times that Danilo sorely regretted his increased role in Harper activities. His etstence had been much more congenial when the only life he was required to endanger or to answer for had been his own. Making decisions that could have grave consequences for friends such as Bronwyn, and for the other young Harper agents and messengers under his direction, was a heavy responsibility.
“The presence of so many paladins in the city worries me,” he admitted, “and has given me cause to reconsider my belief that there cannot be too much of a good thing.”
“For once, we are in accord,” Khelben said. He looked as if he wished to say more, yet there was a most unfamiliar hesitancy in his manner that greatly increased Danilo’s sense of unease.
Danilo bit back the flippant comment that came to mind. This was a time for straight and honest words.