Nose' like a scimitar. Slender, but not scrawny, if you know what I mean.' As if there could be any doubt, he cupped the air several inches from his chest.
Arilyn hissed through clenched teeth. Isabeau Thione, beyond doubt. Was it possible the troublesome wench had progressed from thievery to murder?
Yes, she concluded, entirely possible. Arilyn did not know what complaint Isabeau had against Oth, but she had an excellent reason to hire an attack on Elaith Craul shy;nober. Earlier that very summer, the elf had vied with Arilyn and Danilo over Isabeau's fate. Had the matter been resolved differently, Elaith would have sold the woman to whatever faction in Tethyr offered the best price. It mattered not at all to the elf whether the bidders wished to use the Thione bastard as a political pawn or to remove her entirely from the picture. Given Elaith's dark reputation, Isabeau had no reason to believe the elf would not yet do what he had once set out to accomplish. If she found a way to strike first, she would probably take it. Nor did Isabeau hold much affection for Arilyn. What better way to deflect attention than to place both attacks at the doorstep of a half-elven assassin?
Arilyn shifted impatiently from one foot to the other as she waited for Danilo to finish the transaction. After a few more questions, he flipped the man a second coin, and they walked together into the street.
'Isabeau hated Elaith. She was with Oth,' Arilyn pointed out. 'As far as tren attacks go, that's two out of three.'
'And you the third. Why?'
She thought back to Isabeau's rescue and the vicious resistance that the tavern pickpocket had waged when Arilyn had caught up to her outside the gnomish strong shy;hold. 'Once Isabeau realized what was awaiting her in Waterdeep, she was in favor of rescue, but getting to that point was like reasoning with a mule. Sometimes you have to hit it over the head with a stick to get its attention.'
'Ah. Knowing Isabeau, I'm guessing you had to use a fairly big stick.'
'You could say that. It's possible that she's holding a grudge. There's more.' She hesitated a moment, not wanting to give words to what seemed incomprehensible behavior. 'You didn't seek her out on the trip to Waterdeep. I don't think she's accustomed to being ignored. Since she's not one to blame herself for much of any shy;thing, I wouldn't be surprised if she has a grudge on that score. Creating trouble for me would balance the scales for your inattention.'
Danilo looked coldly furious. 'I am beginning to regret the pledge I took from Elaith for Isabeau's safety. Speaking of whom, we'd better see him at once-provided I can remember which of his properties he cur shy;rently inhabits!'
He hailed a passing carriage. The crest of the Car shy;riage Guild was painted on the door, marking it as available for hire-as did the presence of its halfling crew. The stout little driver tilted his plumed cap and pulled the horses to a halt. A second halfling scrambled down from the coachman's seat and opened the door, smiling expectantly up at Arilyn.
Too tired to argue, she climbed in and settled back against the plush seat. With a jerk, the carriage took off toward the south to seek out whatever rock the elven snake happened to be sunning himself on this particu shy;lar morning.
* * * * *
Elaith Craulnober was not in good humor. He was never so when going over his account books. The numbers therein would have sent many a merchant lord dancing giddily into the streets, and in truth Elaith was not un shy;happy with the results of his recent ventures in Skullport. It was the ciphering itself that he loathed.
A pity he could not trust another to tend such mat shy;ters for him. There were scribes, of course, and men who wrote up bills of sale and tallied the day's transaction. There were other men who collected this information and passed it along to their superiors, who in turn passed it along. Groups of men, some small, some num shy;bering in scores, tended Elaith's vast concerns, but each group was like a single room with windows and doors to the outside word-and none at all to the corridors that led to those other rooms. Only Elaith knew the whole of his empire.
The small brass bell suspended above his door chimed musically. Almost glad for the interruption, Elaith tugged at the embroidered bellpull to grant permission for audience.
The door opened soundlessly. Just as quiet was the elderly elven servant who glided up to Elaith's desk and offered a small, silver tray.
Elaith glanced at the engraved card and smiled faintly. Young Lord Thann had come calling, no doubt with a bottle of elven wine and an apology that would be peppered with foolish anecdotes-but no less sincere for all that. Elaith's words to Arilyn the night before had been simple truth: he did not believe that Danilo had issued the invitation in order to lure him into an ambush. He would not, however, hold other members of the Thann family above suspicion. There was no reason for Danilo to know that, of course.
'Send him in.'
'Them, my lord. The moonfighter is with him,' the servant said, showing Arilyn the respect due any elf honored with a moonblade. If the servant had an opin shy;ion about whether a half-elf deserved this honor, he wisely kept it to himself.
Elaith rose as the unlike pair entered his study. His words of welcome died as he regarded their disheveled appearance. They both looked as damp and road-sore as horses run too long and too hard. A wide variety of sub shy;stances besmudged their clothing, which to all appear shy;ances had been donned hastily and without the aid of servants. Arilyn's black curls fell to her shoulders in wild disarray, and her white, angular face was streaked with grime. Both looked as if they had thrust their hands into a gnome's sausage grinder, so torn were the skin and nails.
'What in the Nine bloody Hells have you been about?' Elaith demanded.
Danilo threw himself into a chair, then placed what appeared to be a large, wooden snuffbox on the table beside. 'Fighting tren, traversing sewers, climbing walls. Nothing out of the ordinary. How was
Consternation swept through the elf. He looked to Arilyn for a straight answer. 'There was another tren attack?'
'Two.' In a few terse words, she described the situa shy;tion.
Elaith nodded thoughtfully. The pieces fit. Indeed they did.
'Oth Eltorchul and Isabeau were at The Silken Sylph last night,' Arilyn said in a flat, even tone.
The elf knew what was coming next. 'I suppose you stopped there looking for me, and you were informed, though not without some persuasion, that I was seen in conversation with Lord Eltorchul.'
Danilo quickly entered the conversation. 'We came here to learn what you know of the matter, not to make accusations. Three tren attacks, in the space of a single day, all of them threatening Arilyn's safety or reputa shy;tion. There are other common threads: all those attacked were at the Gemstone Ball, all had dealings with Isabeau Thione. Can you see something I might have missed?'
'Nothing more than I said last night,' Elaith said. 'This was not the first time someone took steps to hasten my departure from this world. Nor, all things consid shy;ered, will it be the last. I do not know what occasioned this particular attack, nor have I any knowledge of the other two.'
'We will be looking into this matter,' Arilyn stated.
Obviously she suspected him, whatever Danilo might say to the contrary. That knowledge stung the elf more than it should.
Elaith gave her a faint smile and a courtly bow. 'I will consider myself warned. Lord Thann, what is that box?' he asked, more to distract the conversation than from any real interest.
Danilo shifted uneasily. 'It's all that remains of Oth.'
'Ah. Turning evidence over to the Watch. Very com shy;mendable,' the elf murmured without much interest.
'Actually, I thought I'd turn this over to the Eltorchul clan for possible resurrection.'
Outrage, quick and sharp and utterly elven, surged through Elaith. He noted that Arilyn's expression mir shy;rored his thoughts. In this, at least, they were of like mind.
Resurrection, was it? Typical human arrogance! The elf could think of nothing more self-centered or more repug shy;nant than disturbing the afterlife of friend or kindred.
'Why do you humans persist in doing this thing?' he demanded.
'Because we can, most likely,' Danilo responded wearily. 'It is hard to accept that a loved one is lost when
