Silverfall: Stories of the Seven Sisters

His eyes flickered before he nodded almost furiously and spun away. By some trick of air currents, Qilue could clearly hear sounds occurring down the passage-and she could have sworn, amid the sounds of his dashing feet, that she heard him reply under his breath, 'A shortcoming that afflicts many, you old battle-axe. . may all the gods rot you.'

She gave the nearest mirror a smile and brought the end of her walking stick down hard into her own palm, hearing the smack of flesh before the sting began. It was a little like one of the slavers' goads she'd felt, years back. Qilue felt old angers stirring in her, and her usual unease at being away from the faithful of Eilistraee. Walking in the dirt, cold stone, and noisy crowding of a human city she also realized, with real surprise, that she was enjoying herself, unknown dangers and all. She'd been out of harness for too long.

Welcome back, Mystra, she said in the silent depths of her mind, and I do mean welcome.

She hadn't expected a reply, and none came, but as she set the walking stick down on the table, one of its metal ends flashed with a momentary blue radiance, as if it were winking at her.

'Obedient wife,' Master Merchant Inder Dunseltree told the tabletop, in a voice that dripped with cold sar shy;casm, 'we are expected this even at the house of the glover Halonder Eldeglut, and his wife Iyrevven, for revelry until dawn. Shall our usual agreement apply?'

Namra dug her ring-adorned fingers greedily into a glistening mauve mound of hammerscale roe. From under her brows she shot the hovering server a 'get hence' look that sent the servant scuttling for a distant doorway.

'Suppose, dearest Inder,' she said to the fish eggs in front of her, 'you reacquaint me with our 'usual agree shy;ment.' '

She thrust her fingers into her mouth and gave her shy;self over to murmured appreciation of the flavorful roe.

Her 'husband' looked as if exasperation would master him for a moment, then fell back from the brink of a furious outburst to say in silken tones of menace, 'You ignore any dealings I may have with. . ladies, remaining your usual pleasant self, and I shall do the same for you as regards both handy male flesh and, ah … your excesses at board and bottle.'

Namra lifted her eyes to his and said with a gentle shy;ness that surprised Inder, 'I still find this agreement acceptable, and I must confess to feeling a quickening interest within me, this day, for the man who now sits across from me.'

She watched him rear back in astonishment, then saw his face slide from that into incredulous disgust. Qilue decided a seduction of the drow playing Inder would arouse more attention than was good for any hope of successfully learning more about those behind the drow invasion, and their plans.

She gave Inder a hard look to know that his reaction had been observed and found wanting, and asked the half-destroyed mound of roe in front of her, 'Must I attend this revel at all?'

Inder lifted a dumbfounded eyebrow. 'This is a taking, Namra. We are under orders to be there. The Eldegluts have widespread business interests, and much influence. Many of their guests are true humans, as yet unaware of us. You and I, among others, are assigned to conceal from them both the drugging and the assumption.'

The drugging and the what? Qilue reached for her large and brim-full wineglass and asked, 'This is expected to be an unusually clumsy assumption?'

Disgust washed again over Inder's florid face. 'Just how little did Daerdatha train you?' he snarled, taking up his own wine. 'Some humans can go on for half a night; others pitch on their faces the moment they take their first swallow, but it always takes hold suddenly when it does work. Human merchants poison each other so often they know in a trice just what's happened to anyone falling over senseless in mid-quaff.' Mockingly he saluted her with his own glass, and drank deeply.

Qilue echoed the gesture, and helped herself to more roe. She'd been feeling a bit stomach-sick of mornings, lately, but this-the fare or the company, she didn't know which-was making her feel less than well right now.

'And do we know just what's going to happen to these humans, after?'

Inder chuckled harshly and replied, 'We're none of us supposed to know or talk about that, and yet every last one of us wants to know. I'm always surprised at how much we seem to care about the fates of hairy, stinking humans-but I admit, I'm curious too.'

He dug a fork into a steaming marinated ground slug, took a bite, chewed appreciatively, then said around the morsel, 'Dragged off to the barge with all the rest, Brelma said, bound for Chult, where they'll spend the rest of their short lives hacking roads through the jungles for rich Calishites who hope to find mines bursting with head- sized nuggets of solid gold, and a-drip with already cut and polished gemstones.'

'Gems,' his wife echoed dreamily, and Inder nodded at this unsurprising reaction.

'Oh, no doubt there're stones under the mountains of Chult, somewhere,' Inder added dismissively, 'but I'd die of long-passing years waiting for someone to find enough to get out past all the sharpswords who're wait shy;ing for just such outgoing cargoes. . then somehow to pass within reach of my waiting hands. Besides, you can't eat gems, I'd much rather deal in magic, if one has to trade in intangibles-at least there's power there, not mere empty beauty.'

'Akin to the empty beauty of a smiling human maiden at a revel, perhaps?' his wife asked thinly.

Inder scowled. 'I've heard what you do to human female beauty when you get the chance. Just keep your stick and your lash off our useful servants. If just one hanger or tapestry seamstress misses work because of you amusing yourself, I'll see to it you get a taste of what you give to others.'

Namra curled her lip. 'You? And just who will hold me down?'

'I'll call on Daerdatha,' the drow playing at being her husband said bleakly, 'then you'll harm no one. You might even find yourself in a household that we've entirely taken over-being the human maidser shy;vant who feels the lash whenever her master knows anger … or lust.'

'I think I know Daerdatha better than that,' his wife hissed-but Inder thought her voice sounded more frightened than menacing, and merely smiled.

'Go and get ready,' he said. 'You'll probably need some time to find a gown you can still get into. You eat like one of those hogs these humans keep!'

His wife rose, and replied sweetly, 'While you, Inder, are one of those hogs these humans keep.'

Her husband went white to the lips, and his half full wineglass burst into shards in his tightening hand. Qilue put a hand to her mouth in mock fear, struck a terrified pose, then strode away trailing tinkling, deri shy;sive laughter.

Inder plucked up the roe she hadn't yet eaten, strode to a certain door, and slapped it across the face of the servant standing at it.

'Clear the meal,' he snapped as he shouldered past.

'Yes, lord!' the servant said anxiously, and set about licking all of the roe he could off of his face, before either his crazed lord or lady master might return to countermand Inder's most recent order. Hammerscale roe cost its weight in gold, and he'd only tasted it twice in his life before.

Several swallows later, he made a face, wondering why anyone prized it so much.

'Halonder, you old lion!' roared a red-haired mer shy;chant whose shoulders were as wide as the door he was trying to stagger through. 'All this just to get our coins for another of your swindles? Wouldn't it just be easier to hire some dancing lasses to come and try to er, win the coins from me? It's always worked before!'

'Ho ho,' agreed Halonder Eldeglut hollowly, trying not to notice the sharp look his wife was giving him. Qilue wondered why he seemed so chastened; it was nothing compared to the glare Iyrevven Eldeglut had given her at the door, upon seeing that the webwork of emeralds displayed down the slit front of Namra Dunseltree's newest party gown was far more numerous and dazzling than the pectoral of emeralds and dia shy;monds Iyrevven herself wore.

'Whoa, Halonder! Whoa! Send the lasses back and just tell your wife to come round, hey?'

The loudly roaring merchant had obviously taken several flagons of something aboard before arriving-as a necessary precaution, no doubt. Qilue had to firmly erase a growing smile as she recalled the garru shy;lous old Lord of Waterdeep, Mirt, telling her to get drunk 'as a necessary precaution, unless yer already deaf and somehow