'But how do you know someone's trailing you?' demanded Arilyn's companion, a nattily attired nobleman who picked his way delicately along the littered docks of Port Kir. 'If you haven't actually seen or heard anything suspicious, how can you be so sure?'
With a frustrated sigh, Arilyn tucked a handful of her dark curls behind one pointed ear. How could she explain to Danilo Thann something that, to her, was both art and instinct? She just knew. There was a silent rhythm to stalking, a rhythm known only to the best hunters and rangers-and assassins.
'A wizard can sniff out magic,' she said slowly, absently waving away an overeager merchant attempting to spray her with jasmine perfume. 'And I believe a paladin can often sense when evil is near.'
'Ah.' Danilo's gray eyes warmed with understanding as he studied the distracted half-elf at his side. 'I take it that patience, for lack of a better word, has an aura of its own.'
Arilyn smiled without humor. 'Something like that.'
'Has this been going on long?'
She shrugged. 'Since Imnescar.'
'Since-' The nobleman broke off abruptly, then let out a long hiss of exasperation. 'Arilyn, my dear, someone's been stalking us through two kingdoms, and you don't see fit to mention it? Never came up in conversation, is that it?'
'This is the first time we've been alone,' Arilyn said, a trifle defensively.
Danilo glanced pointedly around the teeming marketplace. Beyond the docks the Sea of Swords gleamed silver in the waning light, the horizon touched with the last faint pink of sunset. Most of the merchants were busily folding their bright silk tents and rolling up the mats that had displayed pottery, crafts, and exotic produce. The crowds had not diminished, but evening shoppers generally had goods of a different nature in mind.
'We're alone, you say? How odd,' Danilo mused. 'I've often been alone with beautiful women, and things were never quite so hectic and noisy. Not initially, at any rate.'
'You know what I mean,' the half-elf said curtly. For many days, she'd had little opportunity to speak to Danilo in private. They'd arranged to travel with a merchant caravan en route from the northern trade city of Waterdeep to Calimport, its counterpart in the South. Merchants were the only northerners welcome in parts of Tethyr, and, swept along on the tide of commerce, Arilyn and Danilo had moved unquestioned through the southern lands.
Today they were to begin their true mission.
Arilyn and Danilo had been sent by the Harpers-the self-appointed guardians of freedom and justice in Faerun-to bring a warning to Tethyr's ruling pasha. This was not an easy task, for Pasha Balik wanted nothing to do with 'meddling northern barbarians.' Repeatedly he'd refused Harper messengers or missives, and attempts to gain the ear of someone in his inner circle had also proved futile. Danilo had been charged with finding or creating a back door into the pasha's court; Arilyn's task was to keep the young nobleman alive during the process. Knowing Danilo as she did, Arilyn felt that her mission was sufficiently challenging without the aggravation of an extra shadow.
Even so, the half-elf had developed a certain grudging respect for her pursuer. Tracking a merchant caravan along the major north-south trade road was no test of skill; avoiding detection for so long was another matter. No other member of the company had realized they were being stalked, not even the powerful Harper mage at her side.
Arilyn cast a sidelong glance at Danilo, who was idly whistling the melody of an off-color ballad. Few who knew the young man might guess that he was either Harper or wizard. Danilo Thann was known as a dandy, an amateur mage whose spells comically misfired, a foppish dilettante with amusing pretensions toward bardhood. His self-satisfied smirk and extravagant attire bespoke wealth, ease, and privilege. In truth, Danilo cultivated that image. Prominently displayed on the amethyst silk of his jacket was the crest of a noble merchant family of the Northlands. His billowing trousers were tucked into impractical suede boots, and the voluminous sleeves of his silk shirt were embroidered with tiny runes in gold and violet threads. The nobleman's garments were loose and flowing, cut to mask his lean, powerful build, just as the sparkle of jewels on his sword's hilt distracted the eye from its keen and well-used edge. Danilo's facade made him an effective Harper agent, but it annoyed the Nine Hells out of Arilyn.
'It's getting late,' she said abruptly. 'Let's find a quiet place to plan our next move. Some food wouldn't hurt, either.'
The nobleman's face lit up at the suggestion. 'I know the very spot. Local color, and all that.' He took Arilyn's arm and led her down a maze of alleys to a low wooden building that possessed all the charm of an abandoned warehouse.
'Local color, just as promised,' Danilo said with enthusiasm as he swung open the door. He removed his plumed hat and tucked it under one arm, then patted his blond hair carefully into place as he beamed down at her. 'Isn't this splendid?'
'This' was a tavern of sorts, a vast sprawling taproom that was anything but splendid. If the room were thoroughly swept and aired, it might qualify as squalid.
The taproom was crowded with tables and booths, most of them filled. It was a local haunt, judging from the swarthy faces and the distinctive blue-purple robes of Tethyr's natives. The crowd comprised men of all ages and social classes. Only men, Arilyn noted, though a row of doors lining the north wall of the taproom suggested that women were not entirely absent from the establishment.
Danilo ushered Arilyn into the room. The patrons nearest the door studied the new arrivals, their faces betraying a mixture of interest and hostility. At one table, however, three well-dressed locals eyed Arilyn with speculation and began to argue.
'Ah, Lord Thann!' proclaimed a nasal voice. Arilyn turned to see a squat, dark-robed man waddling toward them, his pudgy hands outstretched in welcome.
Danilo greeted the innkeeper by name, inquired after the health of his wives and children, and requested his customary table. The man ushered them to a corner table-which was already occupied-and dismissed the lesser patrons with a few curt words in the local dialect. Beaming widely, the innkeeper wiped the table with the sleeve of his robe, promised them a wine fit for Pasha Balik himself, and hurried off.
'Is there one tavern in the world where you're a stranger?' Arilyn asked with a touch of asperity.
Danilo pursed his lips and considered the matter. Before he could speak, a blue-robed man approached their table.
'I am the servant of Akim Nadir,' the man told Danilo, and he gestured toward one of the three men Arilyn had noted earlier. 'My master wishes to purchase your woman.'
Danilo placed a restraining hand on Arilyn's arm. 'Let me handle this,' he said. Turning to the servant, he asked, 'How much does your master offer?'
'Twenty gold.'
'Danilo, this is no time for foolishness-'
'I quite agree,' Danilo broke in. He reached across the table and patted her sword hand as if consoling her. 'You're worth several times that amount, I should say.'
'Let go of my wrist and get rid of this man,' she said through clenched teeth.
'And miss a chance to hone my bargaining skills?'
'Twenty-five?' the servant suggested.
Danilo shook his head, his face alight with mischief. 'Eyes that shame the desert sky,' he noted in a wheedling tone.
'Thirty gold. No more.'
'Look at her,' Danilo persisted, deftly swiveling in his chair to move his shins beyond the reach of the half- elf's booted feet. 'Have you ever seen such skin? Moonlight upon pearls! A hundred gold would be a bargain.'
'Perhaps fifty,' the servant allowed. 'Has she any special talents?'
'Well, she's rather good with that sword of hers,' Danilo said thoughtfully, 'though I doubt that's what you had in mind.'
'That's it.' Arilyn jerked her hand free of Danilo's grasp. Rising to her feet, she glared down at the servant. 'Take your business elsewhere.'
The man blinked, not comprehending. A woman unveiled in such a place was surely for sale. 'To whom should I make an offer?' he asked, his eyes darting about the room.
Arilyn drew her sword. 'Talk to this.'
