large, many-horned belt buckle as if finding nervous comfort in stroking something so reassuringly large and solid, then drew out a long, needle-thin knife from behind it, and a more stout blade from one boot. He hefted them for a moment, eyes measuring hers thoughtfully, then set the two weapons carefully on the indicated table, took two slow and deliberate steps away from it, and said, 'Right-what's this about, then?'
'Please sit down, Oscalar. Here.'
One of Alustriel's long arms rose to point at a chair only a stride or two away from the lounge, the sleeve of her gown rippling. The merchant's eyes narrowed, then he threaded his way through the idle furniture to the chair with a few quick strides, snatched it up with a grunt and sudden flexing of corded forearms, and car shy;ried it four paces to one side.
'Your servant, Lady,' he almost snarled, sitting down heavily. 'Now, what by all the gods is this about? I was hoping to catch a kiss or two before morn-'
'You still might, merchant, if you give the right answers swiftly and clearly.'
'And which, Lady, might the right answers be?'
'The truth, Oscalar.' The eyes locked on his were two flames of promised fury. 'For once. Put away your cod shy;piece, give me simple answers, and this will all end for you.'
The merchant winced at the waiting rage in Alus shy;triel's gaze, and swallowed, unable to drag his eyes away from hers. Gods, but it was hot in the darkened room. 'Right,' he said curtly. 'Ask your questions.'
'Was Tradelord Muirtree of Neverwinter alive when you left him?' Alustriel snapped, right on the heels of the merchant's words. He stared at her, brows drawing together in a frown. 'Well?'
'Lady,' he said slowly, 'I never met with the tradelord.'
'You neither saw nor spoke to Garthin Muirtree this day?'
'No. I'd hoped to-we had a moot planned, here in the palace-but a page brought me a note from him, begging off.'
'Where is that note?'
The fat merchant spread helpless hands. 'Gone. I burned it in the grate in my room the moment I'd read it- my habit for everything but contracts and treaties.'
Alustriel raised a mocking eyebrow, but the mer shy;chant growled at her look and said, 'Truth.' His jaws snapped out the word as if he were slamming a castle door.
'What did the note say?'
'The words are gone, lady-but 'twas an apology, signed by him, saying he'd have to miss 'our planned parley'… that's how he put it. Said he'd been taken ill, and it would be his pleasure to send the same page to me early on the morrow to arrange another moot.'
'So you'd know this page boy if you saw him again?'
'I would.' The merchant sat back in his chair more calmly, his eyes fixed on Alustriel's. In the silence between them, there came a muffled sound from some shy;where near, as of a door closing. Oscalar Maerbree lifted his head for a moment, then asked, 'Someone's killed the tradelord? How?'
'I don't yet know that,' Alustriel said carefully, 'and might not tell you if I did. Would you like a drink, Oscalar?'
The merchant regarded her expressionlessly for the space of a long breath, then said, 'No. I don't believe I would, given the circumstances.'
'And why is that?' the High Lady asked, her voice silken soft.
The fat merchant lifted one large, blunt-fingered hand, stared at his palm for a moment, then told it, 'I'd like to make my own death as difficult an achievement as possible.'
The door Oscalar had come in by opened without warning, and the burly merchant's head whipped around, a dagger coming into his hand with dizzying speed.
The two guards coming through the door saw the flash of the blade and went for their own swords. Steel sang swiftly, but Alustriel came to her feet even faster. 'That won't be necessary. Weapons away.'
In the silence that followed her ringing shout, the table one guard had thrust aside to charge the mer shy;chant slowly continued its topple over onto its side, landing with a crash.
The two guards stared at Alustriel, and what she was doing. Oscalar was also looking down in disbelief at the slender hand encircling his thick and hairy wrist, its grip as hard and firm as a manacle. He tried to wrench free, but he might as well have been struggling against a stone wall. He could not move his hand, even with a sudden wrench. Staring up at her face, the merchant tried a sudden jerk that had all of his weight behind it. The chair rocked under him, but his hand was held in one place as if frozen there.
Alustriel gave him a gentle smile. 'Let go of the knife, Oscalar,' she said, in a mother's chiding tones.
A slow, dark flush crept across the merchant's face, but he opened his fingers and let the blade fall.
Alustriel let go of his wrist, picked up the dagger heedless of his proximity to her bending body, and inspected it.
'You
Oscalar shrugged, and Alustriel calmly handed him back the dagger. 'Put it away,' she said, 'and mind the salarn is cleaned from it by evenfeast tomorrow.'
The merchant gaped up at her. Alustriel gave him a tight smile and turned to address the two armsmen, who were busy erasing clear astonishment from their faces. She remained standing beside Oscalar, within his easy striking distance, as she asked crisply, 'Did you conduct this man to the Red Griffon Room earlier this day, to meet with the tradelord from Neverwinter?'
Both of the guards gave Oscalar level looks, and both replied, 'Yes, High Lady.'
'And conducted him back to his chambers, after?'
'To Glasgirt's Hall, lady,' one armsman replied.
'He asked us to take him nigh the kitchens, for an early meal,' the other replied.
'And after, you went-?'
'Back to our posts, outside Barsimber's Arch.'
'And this man came not past you again, while you were stationed there?'
'No, Great Lady.'
'My thanks, good sirs. Return to your duties, and send in the boy you brought hence.'
The guards gave Oscalar dubious looks, laid their hands on the hilts of their sheathed swords in dupli shy;cate silent warnings, and did as they were told.
The boy was trembling with awe and terror, but Alus shy;triel gave him a smile and asked gently, 'Have you seen this gentleman before?'
'M-many times, Bright Lady. Usually coming out of bedchambers or revels. He's very loud.'
Alustriel's merry laugh startled both merchant and page, but she let it fall into another smooth, grave question. 'When was the last time you saw him?'
'With the guards, leaving the Red Griffon Room, this day.'
'You saw the guards bring him there, before that?'
'Yes.'
'You're sure it's this man, and no one else?'
'Yes.'
Oscalar seemed about to say something, but Alus shy;triel turned her head and gave him a look that had a dozen daggers in it, and he held silent. She turned back to the page, the long sleeves of her gown swirling.
'Did anyone else enter that room before the Lord Taern?'
'Yes. The steward Rorild; he came out shouting, and Old Thunderspells came. Uh-that is-uh-'
'Old Thunderspells is a splendid name,' Alustriel said soothingly, 'that I'd be proud to bear myself. Just one question more, now. Did you take a note to this man sitting beside me?'
'No, lady.'
'You have my thanks. Go now to the kitchens, and tell them my orders are to let you eat whatever you like, and drink a glass of the finest wine they have ready, and you are off duty tomorrow to recover from your gluttony unless the Lord Old Thunderspells or I send for you.'
The page boy's eyes grew as large and round as saucers, and he stammered his thanks and practically sprinted out the door, leaving it open.
