'No, no,' Kalen said. It seemed awkward to claim he and Leleera were merely friends, so he held his tongue. He dropped gold into the pool, which glowed with a radiance more subdued than Bors had wrought with his coin. 'As always-an hour longer than the commander stays here. Do not let us leave together.'
'As always.' Sanchel nodded and gestured to the stairs. 'Sune smile upon you.'
'Torm bless and ward you.' Kalen bowed his head. He paused. 'Sanchel-know you a half-elf with red hair, gray eyes, and a quick tongue?'
'If that is your preference,' the dwarf said, 'we can see if Chandra or Rikkil please you-the eyes would be difficult, but the tongue…'
'No,' Kalen said, with an embarrassed cough. 'Fair eve.'
Sanchel nodded and Kalen turned up the stairs, around the image of a great redwood around which dryads pranced.
When he had gone, Sanchel inclined her head to one of the tree nymphs. 'Satisfied?' 'Quite.'
The dryad pulled away from the wall. It did a pirouette, as though reveling in its sylvan body, and Sanchel frowned. This creature both frightened her and intrigued her with its whimsy.
The dryad plucked a wand of bone from her hair and circled it around her head. A silvery radiance crowned her, then descended to her ankles. Her green tresses turned to bright red curls and her green skin became the particular bronze a half-elf inherits from a gold-skinned elf parent. Her eyes became the perfect gray of burnished steel.
'Which room?' Fayne asked. 'From the street, mind-not inside.'
'Second floor, third from the north,' the dwarf woman said. 'When he spoke of the half-elf with gray eyes… he meant you, didn't he?'
'Mayhap,' she said. 'Or mayhap I choose a form to match what he said. It matters little, as you'll say nothing to him-unless you don't care if I tell the Watch certain secrets…'
'No,' Sanchel said. 'Sune smile on you, little trickster.'
'Beshaba laugh in your face.'
Fayne waved her wand again, and in a blink, she vanished.
Kalen kept his eyes downcast so as not to attract attention or bother other patrons. He would have seen his fair share of attractive sights, but he wasn't there to peruse.
He knocked at Leleera's door and was rewarded. 'Enter!' He pushed through.
The room, like most of the pleasure cells at the Smiling Siren, was spacious-sparsely but tastefully adorned to suit the desires of its owner and his or her patrons, whom the celebrant could deny as she wished. Leleera opted for a 'queen's chamber,' with a stuffed divan, a tightly wound four-poster bed, and even a golden tub. As a full priestess of Sune, she could work the relatively simple magics to fill and heat the bath.
She had a full wardrobe of attire to match the chamber-rich robes, diaphanous silk gowns, and jewelry-along with a fair assortment of martial harnesses, including a thin gold breastplate, greaves, an impractical mail hauberk, and a vast assortment of boots of varying styles and lengths. Warrior queens were popular requests, she had told Kalen-particularly a certain 'Steel Princess' Alusair, of late fourteenth-century Cormyr.
The lady herself-who smiled broadly to see Kalen and rose from her divan to embrace him-looked much as a warrior queen ought, with her strong and beautiful features, confident swagger, and honey hued hair, in which she wore dyed streaks of Sune's favored scarlet.
'Kalen!' she cried. 'Jusr in rime. I've almost finished Uthgardt'
Kalen put down his satchel and sat to remove his boots. 'And how goes Arita's debut?'
'Epic,' she said. Leleera helped Kalen unbutton his doublet. 'I can see why folk love it.'
The long-running series, beginning with Fox Among the Uthgardt, concerned a heroine from the old world: an eladrin woman called the Silver Fox who couldn't help but plunge into danger with every leap. No one knew the real name of the author-the fancyname 'Arita' meant 'silver fox' in Elvish-and owing to the volumes' popularity, printers didn't inquire.
'Much wit and banter go with the swordplay, though not nearly enough lovemaking. Though'-she pulled the hauberk over his head- 'I did enjoy the seduction of the chief.'
'Huh.' Kalen started unlacing his breeches.
'I suppose there'll be more,' Leleera said, slapping his hands away so she could do it. 'Uthgardt ends in the 1330s, and the Silver Fox is only a young lass. Under forty-but the fey-born age slower than humans, methinks. There are more books, yes?'
Kalen let her pull off his breeches and stood in his linen clout. Leleera looked at his scarred, slightly glistening chest, and he could almost hear her thoughts.
He shook his head. ' 'Ware the rules.'
'Yes, yes.' She pouted. 'How many more are there, Kalen? I want to read more!'
'I saw Anauroch in the shop today, and I believe that's volume eight.' He stretched. 'Not as many as that other series you like, but each one's twice the normal fifty or so pages.'
Leleera wasn't looking at his nakedness anymore, but rather at his satchel. 'In the shop?' Her smile widened. 'Does that mean…?'
Kalen opened his satchel and produced the book. 'One with more bedplay, I'm told.'
Leleera gasped. 'Lascivities of aLoveableLothario-volume twelve!' She squealed. 'Oh Kalen, you naughty, naughty knight!' Leleera kissed him on the cheek and plopped down on her divan, feet in the air, to read. She began giggling freely and often.
'I take it that will be sufficient?' Kalen laid the satchel's contents on the bed. Black leathers, a gray cloak-the clothes that fit the man.
' 'You should be flattered, lass,' ' she read. ' 'Many would give their lives to learn in my bed-many already have.' ' She rolled on her back and clasped the book to her chest. 'Perfect!'
'Good.' He adjusted his sword belt, which felt light without Vindicator. He sheathed his watchsword in the scabbard instead-it was too short, but it still fit, awkwardly.
'Sure I can't tempt you?' Leleera asked. 'We could read together.' She put her hand on his wrist and if he didn't know better, he'd have sworn she was trying to beguile him.
'Thank you, but no.' Kalen kissed her on the forehead and crossed to the window, where he paused. 'Leleera-are you… are you happy here? In this place?'
She pursed her lips. 'When did you start to care about being happy?'
Kalen scowled.
'A jest, my friend,' Leleera said. 'I am content in this place-I serve my goddess, doing that which brings me pleasure. I share her love wirh the people of this city.'
'And that is enough,' he whispered. 'For you, I mean.'
'Kalen.' She caressed his cheek, but he could not feel her fingers. He saw her hand move, but felt nothing. 'Is it not the same for you?'
Kalen looked away.
'You are a good man, Kalen Dren-but sometimes…' She trailed off with a sigh. Then she smiled sadly. 'If you want to save someone, why not start with yourself?'
'I don't need saving,' he said.
'We'll see.' Leleera embraced him and pressed her lips to his. He felt only coldness.
She left him and lay down across her divan. Setting aside the Lascivities, she opened Fox Among the Uthgardt to the last few pages and began to read silently. Aloud, she murmured, 'Oh, Kalen-oh, yes-ooh!'
Among other skills, being a celebrant of Sune required subsrantial acting talent.
Kalen bowed his head to her and she winked.
'Oh, yes-right-there!' She flipped a page.
As Leleera moaned, squealed, and read, Kalen donned his helm and opened the shutters. He looked back at Leleera-who writhed in feigned passion as she flipped another page.
Then, without further hesitation, Shadowbane swung out the window into the night.
Just below, watching invisibly from an alley just across Marlar's Lane, Fayne smiled.
'I see you, Sir Dren,' she murmured. She pinched her nose. 'And smell you, too-do you ever wash that cloak?'
With that bit of spying managed, she turned her thoughts to the tale she was writing for the Minstrel. The life
