Danilo glanced up at one of the tall, narrow windows that lined the great hall. The moon had risen perhaps twice its own width since his miscast spell. Arilyn was taking far more time in returning than he had antici shy;pated.
A hearty clap on the back shook him from his reverie. A tall man with curly brown hair regarded him with mock dismay. 'Look at you! Snared like a hare! Tell me, how long have you been waiting for this woman?'
Danilo turned a wry grin upon his friend Regnet Amcathra, then nodded toward Myrna Cassalanter, who was whispering tales to a woman wearing an emerald colored gown and an expression of scandalized delight. 'About as long as you have been evading that one.'
Regnet threw back his head and laughed. 'An eter shy;nity, it would seem! And the night is still young! How shy;ever, I was not speaking only of tonight. In truth, Dan, it seems years since we've gone out drinking and wenching together. There are many woman in this wide world, you know.'
'One who matters.' Danilo's gaze slid again to the door through which Arilyn had disappeared.
Regnet shook his head. 'One woman!' he mourned. 'When I consider the straits to which you have been reduced!'
'I have other vices,' Danilo assured him, brandishing an empty goblet.
'Well, that's a comfort.' The nobleman scanned the room, and his eyes lit up as they settled upon a pretty bar shy;maid at the far end of the hall. 'We are in luck. There's a sight to gladden us both.'
They sauntered over to the table, and Regnet imme shy;diately busied himself with a flirtation. Danilo applauded his choice. The girl was a merry lass with red-gold hair, laughing gray eyes, and dimples that flashed in genuine good humor. Her voice might be rough with the accents of the shantytowns of Dock Ward, but there was noth shy;ing blunt about her wit.
'Don't be taking this amiss,' she advised Regnet, 'but you'd best be moving on. There's a moor fire burn shy;ing this way.'
Danilo followed the line of her gaze and burst out laughing. Myrna Cassalanter advanced, her gaze intent upon Regnet. With her scarlet hair and even brighter gown, she did rather resemble a wind-driven blaze. Moor fires were considered terrible omens, and in prac shy;tical terms the burning bog gasses left a foul scent behind. Dan could not imagine a better description of Myrna, a gossipmonger by profession and inclination, than that supplied by the barmaid.
When Myrna had dragged her prey away to the danc shy;ing, Danilo lifted his glass to the serving girl in silent salute. She responded with a quick, impish smile and then a shrug.
'I've seen enough of such things to name them true.'
'Bog fires?' Dan inquired with a grin.
'Wouldn't that be fine!' the girl replied wistfully. 'No, I've never stepped beyond these city walls.'
He helped himself to a bottle from the table and refilled his glass. There was no self-pity in the girl's voice, but he recognized the sound of genuine longing-and the echo of his own restless nature. 'Where would you go?'
She shrugged again. 'Anywhere that doesn't smell of fish and ale would suit me fine.'
Danilo laughed and captured a ripe apricot from the tray of a passing servant. 'These help a bit, when I'm feeling restless. Taste it, and see if the flavor doesn't conjure images of warm sunshine and distant lands.'
'Oh, I dare not eat on duty,' she protested, although she considered the fruit as if it were a rare gem. 'Be shy;sides, if I pocket it, folks might think ill of me.'
He nodded, understanding this. Thievery by servants was severely punished. Even so, it didn't seem right to deny them the festive fare they helped to serve. 'Give me your name, then, and I'll have some sent to you.'
'Will you, now?' she retorted with good-natured skepticism. 'Along with a case of that elven wine, I suppose. …'
Her words faded as something seized her attention. Danilo followed the line of her gaze and grimaced. Not far away, an exceedingly curvaceous young woman was dancing with an amorous nobleman. Both partners' hands were far busier than their feet. Normally, Danilo would not consider this odd-after all, the attention Myrna lavished upon Regnet was even less subtle-but he had reason to distrust this particular woman. It would seem that Sofia the pickpocket was having a bit of a problem with her transition to Lady Isabeau.
'Excuse me,' he murmured as he set down his glass.
A look of deep consternation flashed across the girl's pretty face. 'Have a care with that one, sir. Looks fine as frog's hair, she does, but I've seen things. That one is trouble.'
'You've a very good eye,' he commented as he began to move away. 'Thank you for your advice. I shall bear it in mind.'
'Lilly,' she said abruptly.
He turned back, lifting one brow in inquiry.
'My name,' the girl explained. 'Just wanted you to be knowing it. Your name, I'm already knowing.' She grinned again. 'It's been spoken.'
'Yes, I can imagine,' he said dryly, enjoying the woman's wry, impish humor-even when it came at his expense. He touched his forehead in parting salute. 'Lilly, it has been a rare pleasure.'
He deftly intercepted Isabeau from her partner and danced her as unobtrusively as possible into an alcove.
As soon as no eyes were upon them, Isabeau pulled away. She squared her shoulders, not so much in defi shy;ance as to better frame the expanse of feminine charm displayed between her ruby necklace and her low- laced gown.
'Calling in your debts, Lord Thann?' she said mock shy;ingly. 'A tryst, in exchange for my rescue and my new position? I have been expecting you to name that coin, but not in so public a place.'
Danilo stuck out his hand, palm up. 'I've come to collect-you're right about that much. Hand it over.'
She pouted, the picture of insulted innocence. 'I don't understand.'
'Clearly. May I remind you that you are Isabeau Thione, a noblewoman related to the royal house of Tethyr? I know this is all very new to you, but you must learn to comport yourself according to the mores of Waterdhavian nobility.'
'Huzzah!' She gave him a cool, mocking smile and a little patter of applause. 'Bring him the prize for stuffi shy;est speech of the night! In truth, Lord Thann, the only difference between me and most of these fine people is that
Danilo refused to be distracted. 'Don't make me sorry I brought you here,' he warned her. 'There are those who would be only too happy to take you back to Tethyr.'
Isabeau abruptly sobered. Her black eyes darted across the room to the silver-haired elf with a hawk's watchful amber eyes.
'Very well,' she said petulantly, and began to empty her pocket. In moments Dan's hands were heaped with items she had taken from her dance partners: coins, pendants, a small crystal sphere, even a ring-an unusual piece set with a large stone of rosy quartz.
He regarded the haul with dismay. 'Have you any idea how long it will take me to sort through these things and return them without suspicion to their owners?'
The woman folded her arms over her abundant cleavage and smiled. 'There is an easy solution. Give them back to me, and save yourself the trouble.'
Danilo sighed and spilled the treasure into the bag attached to his belt. 'Perhaps you should leave, Isabeau. We'll discuss this later.'
'Much later, I hope,' she said airily. Her eyes scanned the crowd, no doubt looking for one of her victims. She glided from the alcove and disappeared into the swirling, silken haze of the dance floor.
For a moment, Dan was tempted to follow. After all, he and Arilyn had brought Isabeau to the safety of Waterdeep. Though they had both come to rue and reject the Harper reasoning that had ordered this mission, a personal responsibility remained: they had to keep Waterdeep safe from Isabeau.
* * * * *
Elaith Craulnober saw Danilo whisk the southern woman into an alcove and had little doubt about the reason for it. The wench was a thief, and she was damned good at her work. She had stolen a dagger from him-
