He stepped into the hallway and found the cook. Surprisingly, besides the drawing room below and the study on the top floor of the house, little damage had been done. Whoever had done the killing had known exactly what they wanted and took no chances about getting it.
'Dame Qhyst,' he said.
The cook turned to face him. She was a short woman, surprisingly comely for one who chose to work out of sight of most people in a wizard's home. Her dress was homespun, a pale green that set off her dark good looks. Her hands were weathered and red, the hands of a farmer's wife.
She curtsied, bowing her head. 'Milord.'
'No, Dame Qhyst, senior civilar will do nicely. Or Closl, if you feel so inclined. I am a working man, no lord.' He bowed and gave her a smile, thinking of his mother when she'd been much younger.
'Senior civilar,' she agreed. 'You understand what has happened?'
'Yes. Are you sure that Fannt Golsway is dead?' Tears glittered unshed in her eyes.
'There can be no mistake, dame. Two of his neighbors have identified his body just this morning.'
She raised a hand to her mouth. 'Who would do such a terrible thing? He was such a good man.'
'I don't know,' Closl said. 'All that I am sure of is that Lord Piergeiron is going to want answers when I see him later this morning. He takes the protection of this city very seriously.' 'I am well aware of Lord Piergeiron's interest in this city.' Standing in the hallway, Closl was aware of the smell of burned flesh coming from the study. 'Walk with me, dame.' The woman fell into step beside him.
Closl lead the way down the curving steps to the lowest floor, then out beside the house where a small garden contained a number of vegetables, grape vines, and flowers. A stone wall ringed the patch of land, and Mintrivn had confirmed that it had wards of protection placed on it. Care had been taken in the placement of the small stone benches in the garden. He took a deep breath, clearing the smell of death from his nostrils. 'Is this your garden, dame?' he asked.
She looked around, her cheeks wet with tears now. 'No. It was the master's. He put it in, saying it was for me, but he spent hours out here when no one was looking. It was a habit of his since he'd quit traveling quite so much.'
'Please sit.' Closl waved to one of the benches across from an alabaster fountain with birds cut from sapphires sitting on the edge. The water trickled noisily from an artesian well that tapped an underground source, but the sound was soothing. 'Thank you.'
'I am told you had the night off last night' 'Yes, sir. It was my routine to set the master's table for him, then go home myself. I have three children, you see. The master was very generous with his time.'
'I understand that. I am also told that you were paid even for those days that Golsway was not at home.'
The woman nodded. 'As I said, Senior Civilar Closl, the master was a very generous man.'
Closl almost smiled. In most circles, Golsway had been known as a very hard and demanding man. His research, when presented, was flawless. His lessons, when executed, were poetry.
“Tell me about last night,' the senior civilar suggested. 'You prepared the eveningfeast before you left. What time did you leave?'
'Just after moonrise,' she answered.
'I'm told that was later than usual.'
'Yes.' She nodded. 'I prepared my own eveningfeast for my children earlier, then came back to prepare the master's. He was entertaining, you see.'
'I understand that was a rare occasion.'
'True.'
'Who was he entertaining?' Closl asked. There was still the body in the drawing room burned beyond recognition to be explained, though the senior civilar had some ideas.
'Thonsyl Keraqt, the merchant.'
'Do you know what business he had with Golsway?'
'No. The master had his business, and I never pried into it.'
Closl talked for a while longer, going over the evening until he was sure he had everything the woman knew. There were no clues, nothing to suggest who had killed the men. After only a little while longer, he released her from his questioning.
She was almost to the door leading back into the house when he called for her attention.
'What can you tell me about Baylee Arnvold, dame?' he asked.
'Only that he would never have anything to do with this,' she replied without hesitation. 'If that's what you're thinking.'
'It's been brought to my attention that there was a falling out between them in the past year.'
'Ten months ago,' the woman replied, her eyes sparking fire.
'And I would like to know whose tongue has been wagging so loosely.'
'I'm afraid I can't reveal that. Those who talk to me have my confidence.'
'Then please take a message back to that person for me that they should respectfully find some other way to spend their time than passing on idle gossip.'
'I'll consider that, should the information prove false or misleading.'
'The falling out you refer to,' the woman explained, 'was nothing more than a boy growing to manhood, despite his father's best wishes.'
Closl studied the woman. 'I'd never heard that Baylee was the old mage's son.'
'He wasn't, by blood,' Dame Qhyst replied, 'but in every other way that mattered, that was their relationship. Even the master didn't see it till months after Baylee had left this house. And a sad awakening it was, too, because by then the master had let too much time pass to be comfortable patching the rift between them himself. And Baylee, you can be sure, is on the prideful side himself. Youth can be such a detriment.'
'How well do you know this young man?' Closl asked. 'Well enough that you are asking me questions about him, Senior Civilar Closl. If you didn't trust my answers, you should not have asked.'
Closl laid an apologetic hand over his heart and bowed his head. 'Forgive me, Dame Qhyst, for I meant no offense. Of course you are right.'
'If I can be of any further help, please let me know.' She turned and nearly ran over the man standing suddenly and quietly in the doorway. 'Oh, excuse me, Lord Piergeiron! I didn't know you were there!' She backed away hurriedly and curtsied very low.
Closl straightened his own stance, coming instantly to attention.
'My fault, dame,' the Commander of the Watch of Waterdeep said. 'I should have spoken up. Please continue on your way and know that no ill favor on my part has been garnered.'
The woman curtsied again, excusing herself, and disappeared into the house.
Piergeiron Paladinson strode into the garden, looking striking in his watch armor and colors. He was tall and graceful, much as his father had been. He gazed about the garden, then looked at his senior civilar. 'This is a right and proper muddle of affairs.'
'Yes sir,' Closl responded, feeling like the whole arrangement had suddenly gotten many times worse than he thought it was going to be if Piergeiron himself was going to get involved in the murder investigation.
'Do we have any ideas about who did this?'
'Someone quite capable in the field of spell-casting, or someone armed with a magical weapon of some force.'
Piergeiron shook his head. 'I knew that from the moment I found out it was Golsway who was killed. I knew that man as one of my teachers, as hard a taskmaster as a man would ever want to meet.'
'There's not much else, sir,' Closl said. 'Golsway didn't have much in the way of friends.'
There was always Keraqt,' the warden said. 'Though I never knew what Golsway liked about the old pirate.'
'Sir, Keraqt was the other victim.'
Piergeiron looked surprised. 'Well, rest his soul in peace then. If not friends, what of enemies?'
'Someone who could do this?'
'You'll be working from a short list, then.'
Closl knew he wasn't being let off the hook. The people you're suggesting, sir, well, we'll be trampling on
