Lilly's death? She was a silly, shallow woman, venal in casual conversation but lacking the will and focus to do any real harm. He did not regret the conversation, for if it had shed no light on Lilly's fate, at least it had set his mind at ease concerning Regnet's involvement.
However, as Danilo left the gates, it occurred to him to wonder how Myrna knew Lilly was a barmaid. He had been careful not to refer to his sister in such terms. It seemed apparent that she had known about Regnet's involvement with Lilly-at least, she had not reacted to it with surprise and anger.
Danilo decided to cut though Regnet's property. It was a pleasant walk, shaded by large elms and lined with a hedge of lavender-leggy and outgrown this time of year, but still fragrant. It was a good place to think, and he had much to ponder.
Foremost in his mind was puzzlement over why Myrna did not show anger about her would-be lover's involvement with Lilly. Was it because a simple tavern wench just, as she'd put it, 'did not signify'? Most of Waterdeep's nobles readily overlooked the small foibles and dalliances that were common among their class.
Or perhaps Myrna had responded with rage when the tale of Lilly and Regnet was newly told. If so, what form had her anger taken? In light of her display, Danilo had potent reason to believe that she was capable of ordering a rival's death-especially the removal of a person she considered to be without much consequence.
He was wondering still when the first blow came out of nowhere and sent him staggering into the fragrant hedge.
Sixteen
Danilo hauled himself to his feet. Through eyes swimming with stars, he made out three dark shapes dropping from the elm tree: three, in addition to the man who had already hit him.
He reached for his singing sword, for its magic served to galvanize the wielder and those who fought beside him, while disheartening those who fought against. Against four men, he would need that edge.
He pulled the blade free. At once it broke into melody, but not the ringing, comic ballads that Dan had magi shy;cally 'taught' it. The sword intoned a dismal little dirge in the nasal tones of the Turmish language.
The sword's magic had no power over the fighters. They fell into place around him. The man who faced him swept his sword in a taunting circle, then tossed it from left hand to right and back. It was a show meant to intimidate.
'And it succeeds,' Danilo murmured under his breath.
He reached for his spell bag and called to hand the components for a slow-movement spell. To his dismay, the casting had no effect on the men circling him, but the falling leaves suddenly defied the brisk wind, drip shy;ping slowly through the sky like honey from a spoon.
The singing sword gave a ghastly croak and fell silent. Magic had, to all purposes, deserted him.
The man facing him sneered. 'I
Danilo blocked. His sword groaned with the parry, a dismal sound that seemed to leech away his resolve. When the mercenary punched out, he could not move away in time. The heavy blow caught him below the ribs and knocked the wind from him, bending him nearly double.
From the corner of his eye, he saw another thug lunging in for his sword arm. He turned painfully, blocked, and riposted. All the while his sword whined, moaning and complaining.
A fiery streak flared across the surface of his mind like crimson lightning. His vision danced, and a heart shy;beat passed before he connected the flash of pain with the long rip in his left sleeve, the welling redness stain shy;ing the emerald silk.
The man behind him kicked hard, catching him in the small of his back. He could not turn to defend him shy;self. Nor would he, for another man was coming in, sword leveled for a lunging thrust.
Danilo blocked. He feinted low, then shifted his weight and lunged in high. His blade slid just wide of his opponent's parry, scoring a stinging cut on the man's cheek. Danilo felt a surge of satisfaction. The outcome of this seemed assured, but at least he would make some account of himself.
The next cut came from behind-a shallow, stinging jab to this shoulder. Dan whirled and thrust. His sword glanced off the man's belt buckle and sank in deep. He wrenched his blade free, shifted to his back foot, and parried an attack from another foe. At the same time, he kicked back and caught the third man on the side of the knee. The thug's leg buckled, and he stumbled, nearly falling.
The man caught himself and came in, his face a mask of fury. He leaped, his sword aimed for Danilo's heart. The first man, though, the one who had jeered at Danilo's sword, slashed out and knocked his comrade's blade aside.
'Not that,' he snarled. He glanced at Dan and added, 'Not yet.'
Danilo suspected the last words were meant to cover a misstep. This attack was most likely not intended to be an execution but a warning. Still, he couldn't be sure.
He lifted his sword in guard position and faced down the three remaining men. The leader began to advance, and then froze in midstep. His eyes shifted down to his hand, and his puzzled gaze shifted from the sword that would no longer obey him to the broad, shining dagger tip that protruded from his beard.
Suddenly the dagger jerked to one side, and a crim shy;son fountain exploded from the man's throat. He fell slowly, revealing the cold, amber gaze of the elf stand shy;ing behind him. The man's comrades threw down their swords and ran.
Without pausing for thought, Danilo took off after them. Elaith swore and kicked into a run. 'You are in no condition for this,' he pointed out as he trotted along beside.
'Have to stop them,' Dan gritted from between clenched teeth. 'Have to know who ordered this.'
The sound of fleeing hoofbeats resounded down the back streets, but Danilo did not slow. The elf hissed in exasperation. 'You are depriving some village of an idiot, you know.'
The rumble of a carriage caught the elf's attention. He glanced up as the conveyance ambled by and noted that it bore the guild sign and was driven by a halfling. Good. That made things easier.
Elaith leaped onto the running board. He reached up and pulled the driver from the box, sending him sprawl shy;ing into the streets with a quick, careless toss. With the horses he showed a bit more care-he caught the near shy;est bridle and coaxed the team to a stop. He flung open the door and tumbled the shrieking passengers out, then shouldered Dan into the carriage. Slamming the door, he leaped onto the driver's box.
He shook the reins over the horses' backs. The fright shy;ened animals took off at a tearing run.
Danilo crawled through the window onto the box. 'Don't think that I am devoid of appreciation,' he began, 'but-'
'Not another a word,' the elf snarled as he guided the team around a sharp turn. 'You wanted to catch those men. This is the only way you'll do so without bleeding yourself dry.'
Danilo considered, then gave a curt nod. That was all he had time for, because another careening turn tipped the carriage onto two wheels. He seized the edge of the seat and braced his boots against the footrest to keep from sliding off onto the cobblestones.
'Hang on,' Elaith said, belatedly.
They tore through the streets, tilting wildly first to one side then the other as they thundered along. The elf kept the hindmost rider in sight-no easy task, despite the fact that the man's precipitous flight emptied the streets.
Elaith followed him down a narrow alley, one that curved and twisted like a snake. The carriage tilted but did not fall. Sparks flew as the wheel rubbed against the narrow walls and showered down on them from where the upper edge grazed the opposite wall.
They burst out into the chaos of a crowded courtyard. A trio of barrels rolled toward them. One shattered beneath the horses' hooves. The scent of mead honeyed the air. Chickens fled, squawking in stupid indignation. A few merchants stood their ground, shouting impreca shy;tions and pelting the carriage with spilled and ruined produce.
Instinctively Elaith reached for a retaliatory knife. Danilo caught his arm as he was getting ready to throw.
