The newest contestant made the throw with the axe, further away from the center than the last contestant had been. More cheering and groaning followed.
'Then it will cost you a silver piece,' the ranger said.
Cordyan reached into her belt pouch and took out a silver coin. She flipped it at the ranger, who snatched it from the air with practiced ease.
Rasnip moved forward. 'Hold up. We have a new contestant.' He looked at Cordyan. 'What is your name?'
'Cordyan,' she answered, moving to the line.
'Cordyan of where?'
'Waterdeep.'
'And you are a ranger?' Rasnip asked.
'No.' Cordyan knew the group at the forgathering had already guessed that. However, they didn't know her true nature. 'I'll have to borrow an axe.'
Several rangers laughed at the request. 'She doesn't have her own axe?'
'Going to throw with someone else's?'
'I'm willing to make a wager on this,' a man cried. 'Does anyone want to try to take my money?'
A young man with a feathered cap stepped from the crowd and handed Cordyan a weathered hatchet. 'It might not look like much because I've put it to ill use over the years, but it's a trusty weapon.'
Cordyan took the hatchet. She ran her fingers along the smooth handle. It didn't have a practiced finish, rather it was probably accomplished by rubbing a rough stone against it till the present finish was achieved. The head had a few nicks that a whetstone hadn't been able to remove.
Some of the rangers guffawed at the condition of the borrowed piece of equipment, believing it to place Cordyan in even more dire straits. The young ranger blushed, evidently embarrassed by his own offering.
'That hatchet didn't do young Turloc any favors,' someone said. 'He's already had his attempt at the prize.'
Cordyan took her stand at the throwing line and concentrated on the target, marking it in her mind. 'And what is the prize?'
'What is the purse so far?' Rasnip asked.
'There have been eighty-two misses so far,' a woman called out. 'It's the ill lighting and the wine.'
'That means there's eighty-two silvers to be won,' Rasnip answered.
Cordyan let out a breath and shrugged, using the movement to disguise the act of removing two of the leaf-bladed throwing darts from her tunic. Around her, the rangers fell silent. With a smoothness born of long practice, she threw the hatchet.
The weapon flipped exactly three times. True to the young ranger's word, the hatchet was expertly weighted for throwing. On the final revolution, the axe blade came around hard and bisected the silver coin. Partially held by whatever was used to hold the coin in place, the halves dropped to either side.
In an eye blink, Cordyan threw the darts. No one knew they were there until they embedded in the tree trunk. Their feathers jutted from the wood, and the leaf-shaped blades caught the two coin pieces before they could drop to the ground.
Stunned silence followed the display of accuracy.
Cordyan had no doubt that the rangers at the forgathering would talk afterwards. She crossed the twenty feet, took out her darts, then tugged the hatchet free and returned it to the young ranger she had borrowed it from.
Stopping in front of Rasnip, she said calmly, 'There was some mention of prize money.'
Rasnip thrust out a hand. A woman dropped a bulging leather coin purse into it. Quietly, he surrendered it to Cordyan. 'What was your name again?'
'Cordyan Tsald,' she replied as she took the purse. 'Junior Civilar Tsald, of the Waterdeep Watch. And I'm here on business to see Baylee Arnvold. Tell him that when you see him.' She turned and walked away, leaving a crowd of staring rangers and assembled animals behind.
A tall, thin man with a short, clipped, graying beard fell into step beside her. He kept his hands clasped behind his back. He wore robes and a pointed skullcap that marked him as a wizard before he worked one spell. 'Was that really necessary?' he asked in a dry voice.
'Not if you've found Baylee Arnvold,' Cordyan answered.
'I haven't.'
Cordyan watched the movements of the rangers around them, reading the patterns from long years of practice. 'They know who we are.'
'Yes.' Calebaan Lahjir nodded. He was a watch wizard assigned by Closl to Cordyan's unit. As such, they shared a joint command over the watch team, which irked Cordyan.
'They let us in,' the watch lieutenant said, 'so they could watch us.'
'Precisely.' Calebaan smiled slightly. 'When you look at it in the right fashion, you can see the humor of the situation.'
Cordyan cut her eyes toward the wizard. They'd worked together off and on for years. When she had worked some of her first investigations in Waterdeep that had involved wizardry, Calebaan had tutored her and given her time that he hadn't had to. 'They're hiding him.'
'Baylee is one of their own.'
'So I thought I'd let them know we knew what was going on as well.' Cordyan stopped at a table burgeoning with food. 'The fact of the matter is that we can't just take Baylee from them.' She worked to fill a clay plate with foodstuffs, finding herself politely aided by the rangers helping serve out. 'All we can do is make ourselves as interesting to Baylee as we can.'
'I see. You have always had a direct way about you, Cordyan, that I only sometimes admire.' The wizard surveyed the table, finally settling on a few squares of apple nut crunch.
Cordyan signaled to the rest of her troops, having them stand down. They could watch over each other and join in the feast. All fourteen men and women signaled back. The watch lieutenant couldn't see them all, but the signals were relayed. By the time she had two cups of wine for herself and Calebaan, she had all the numbers.
'How much do you know about Baylee Arnvold?' she asked the wizard as they found space at an empty table.
'I have heard of him,' Calebaan admitted. 'Though I must admit, usually only in conjunction with Fannt Golsway, may the Lady keep him close.'
Cordyan said a short prayer to Mystra, asking her to bless the food and her quest. At the end, she touched the Harper pin hidden by her tunic. Lord Piergeiron and the Watch of Waterdeep weren't the only ones interested in what had happened to Golsway. 'Baylee's major weakness is his curiosity.'
'So you seek to draw him in.' Calebaan looked around in distress.
'Like the moth to the candle.'
10
Krystarn Fellhammer
The drow warrior felt the words in her mind as she sat before her altar to Lloth. The rooms around her were immersed in total darkness, but her drow vision brought all the details out clearly. The smell of incense lingered in the room. 'Yes,' she replied. The telepathic touch of Folgrim Shallowsoul made her cringe inside.
I have found the ranger, Baylee Arnvold. Shallowsoul's voice sounded, thin, raspy, and cold.
'I am on my way.' Krystarn closed her prayers to the Spider Queen, asking only for the strength to see her mission through to the end, begging forgiveness for not being able to offer up the heart of an enemy at this time in sacrifice.
She took up her weapons and her traveling clothes. Shallow-soul would not have called had she not been going somewhere. With all her gear strapped about her, she pulled on her piwafwi over it all. The last tenday had
