Silver Shadows (36 page)

“Did you bring her home?” she whispered, thinking of the fallen Hawkwing. In her time in Tethir, Arilyn had come to realize that the ties between the elves and then-forest went too deep for death to sever. The green elves returned to the forest in ways that could not be understood or explained, and she needed to know that Hawkwing would find rest beneath the trees.

A long, heavy silence answered her question. “When your strength faltered, so did the shadow warriors,” Foxfire said at last. “More men came from the fortress, and we were forced to flee. A choice had to be made between the living and the dead. Do not grieve for Hawkwing: she is free.”

But she was not.

The spirit of the elven girl wandered the battlefield. She was dazed and angry and confused, though the battle was long over. The call of Arvandor was sweet and strong; still more compelling were the rhythms of the forest, heard and felt and understood as never before.

Yet the child could respond to neither. She had been torn from life too soon, and though her existence had not often been easy or happy, she was not yet reconciled to leaving it behind.

Thus it was that the priest of Loviatar had an easy time finding the elf maid’s wandering spirit. An unseen hand reached out, seized the girl, and pulled her into a shadowy gray realm.

Hawkwing’s untamed spirit rebelled against this captivity, but these were fetters that even a will as strong

K as hers could not break. The entity that imprisoned her

J’ was powerful but twisted; a cold, salacious soul that

: reveled in the wounds of the girl’s discarded body and

the frantic terror of her captive spirit. The ugly soul of

this being—a human, a priest of some sort—was made

all the more terrible for the impenetrable coating of

smug piety that armored it.

“You must answer me what I ask you,” his voice demanded, speaking in a language Hawkwing had never before heard but found that she could understand. “Behold this man’s livid scar. Who is the elf whose mark this is?”

Hawkwing had no intention of responding, but the priest took the answer from her mind.

“Foxfire, an Elmanesse of the Talltrees clan,” the priest’s voice said aloud. “Where does this elf reside?”

Again the elven child refused. But it mattered not. The secrets of the hidden stronghold poured from her. She could no more stop them than she could command the wind or rain.

And so it went, for as long as the gray-souled priest

r desired to contain and compel her spirit. At last he was

| done with her. Hawkwing tore free and flung herself

| away from the inquisitor’s casual cruelty. Nothing the

elven girl had endured hi Hie had marked or bruised

her as deeply as this captivity of her essence and the

plundering of her tribe’s secrets. But though she was

;; frantic and half mad, she set a true course for the elven

woods and home.

There she had found solace before; in time, perhaps, it would come to her again.

Finding an agent of the Knights of the Shield was not BO difficult a thing to do, provided one knew how and where to look. Hasheth suspected he could learn a great deal of information in the clandestine shop of one of

284

The Harpers

Silver Shadows

285

Zazesspur’s coin brokers.

A very profitable and unofficial market in Tethyr dealt in the trading of the country’s various coins. There were many types of gold pieces used throughout the land. Many of the larger cities and even some of the more powerful guilds or noblemen minted their own coins. The value of these rose and fell with the changing tides of fortune. Predicting how a given currency might fare, and trading coins in speculation of these changes, was a thriving business in Tethyr.

Most merchants and makers of policy argued that there was no real difference in these currencies. The cities with more valuable currencies tended to pay higher wages and charge higher prices that those whose coins enjoyed a lesser reputation. In the end, they reasoned, the value of these coins in barter for goods and services was about the same throughout Tethyr and its neighboring lands. This was true enough, as far as it went, but this argument ignored a simple and rather obvious fact that occurred to remarkably few of Tethir’s coin brokers.

Many of these coins, though quite different in value and purchasing power, contained about the same amount of gold.

Thus it was that a bag of a hundred Zazesspurian gulders, while nearly twice the value of a bag holding an equal number of the zoth minted in Saradush, weighed almost the same. There were in Zazesspur two, perhaps three brokers who would buy up the lesser coins, then melt and recast them as more valuable currency. The services of these enterprising souls also came in handy when one had other reasons for changing the shape of one’s wealth. Prime among these were the personal coins, either stolen or given in payment, that were extremely difficult to pass in common trade. At times, possession of such a coin could be deadly.

The Knights of the Shield often ordered gold coins to be placed on the eyelids of those slain by their agents. So

difficult was it to spend these coins that beggars and pickpockets would often pass such a corpse and leave the treasure untouched, rather than risk the Knights’ retribution. There were, however, some people who hoarded these coins and used them in a specialized system of barter. To an assassin or a hired sword, a cache of Knights’ coins was a mark of prestige that brought in other lucrative assignments. Such a coin could also be redeemed for favors or information that far surpassed the value of the gold it contained. And from time to time,

: assassins incurred expenses—such as the need for a new

identity or a swift departure to a distant port—that

demanded that such coins be melted down and made

into more widely accepted currency.

During his time in the assassins* guildhouse, Hasheth

^ had learned the name of a woman who provided such

; services. He went to her now, riding one of his lesser steeds so as not to attract undue attention in the trades

•: quarter of the city.

The establishment he sought, unaccountably named ? the Smiling Smithy, was the sort of shabby place that |. replaced cast-off horseshoes and reattached the broken j; prongs of pitchforks. The sole proprietor and craftsperson I; did not exactly meet the expectations suggested by the | sign outside her shop. Melissa Miningshaft was a short, ‘:’• squat woman singularly lacking in either physical :’: beauty or social graces. She was half-dwarven, or per-| haps a quarter-breed, yet she was nearly as stout and ;. heavily muscled as any full-blooded dwarven smith. !… Her features brought to mind a dried apple, her graying brown hair was scraped back into a tight bun, and to ; call the lumpy, ample form that strained the seams of f her brown linsey gown “shapeless” would be erring on the side of compassion.

At the moment, the smithy’s thick and sculpted arms were bared to the elbows and glowing red from the warmth of the forge and from the effort of pumping the bellows which fanned and coaxed the blazing fire.

286

The Harpers

Silver Shadows

287

Melissa glanced up when Hasheth entered, scanned him quickly from head to foot, and then harumphed.

“I would like to trade some coin,” he said, placing a leather bag on a stout trestle table that held some of her tongs and hammers.

“Fer what?” she demanded gruffly. “Yer horse throw a shoe?”

Hasheth had expected this response. Melissa was extremely particular about those to whom she sold her finer skills. The dwarf woman was capable of making shrewd, clandestine deals and forging incredibly accurate counterfeit coin molds, but if this were to become widely known, she’d be forced to spend too much time and effort guarding the wealth hidden in the walls and cellars of her humble shop and home.

But Hasheth had credentials of a sort. He pulled his sand-hue sash from its hiding place in his sleeve and placed it beside the bag of coins.

“I wish to trade standard Amn danters for other coins,” he said. “And nothing so common as gulders or moleans. I will pay twice the trade weight for any coin you possess that bears the mark of the Knights of the Shield.”

Melissa let loose a burst of sardonic laughter in much the same way that an irascible dragon might blow forth a puff of smoke. “Yer actually looking for the Knights? Poor sod! I give you three days afore they come looking for you.”

Actually, Hasheth was rather hoping to make contact before nightfall. “Have you any such coin?”

“A couple,” she admitted, squinting at the young man as she weighed and measured the worth of his personal metal. “But that’ll cost you four times trade weight.”

“I said two; that is more than fair.”

“Fair? That ring on yer little finger’s worth more Amn danters than you could stuff in yonder coin bag, and me living here in this sorry excuse for a shack. You call that fair? Three times trade weight.”

“Two and a half.”

“Done,” she said and spat into the fire. Hasheth was not certain whether this gesture was meant to punctuate the closure of their deal or to show contempt, but he was willing to let it pass.

Melissa pushed past him and disappeared into a back room. She returned promptly and tossed two large gold coins on the table. “Yer in luck. I was gonna melt these -; down for moleans come morning.” < Hasheth picked up the first coin and examined the markings. It was definitely a Knight’s coin, but he could not place it to any particular individual. The second coin yielded a bit more information.

“These will do. You’ll find slightly more than two and \ a half times the trade weight in that bag.” Ł, The coin broker dumped Hasheth’s danters onto the $— table and counted them twice, then nodded. “Good to do | business with you, boy, but truth be told, I don’t expect |; to again. Baby assassin or no, you might as well stuff a | .fireball in yer pants as travel with them coins in yer Hj pockets. You won’t be coming back.” J “I thank you for your concern,” he said coldly. Til be ^certain to mention you, should anyone give me trouble H about these coins.”

IP Melissa snorted, for the young man’s threatening vj’ retort was no more than bluster, and they both knew it. 4 The smithy had clients who held an interest in protect-|ing her privacy. Anyone who attempted to betray her jŁ was likely to become a notch on an assassin’s blade, or gto be discovered with large gold coins, very much like fjftie ones Hasheth had slipped into his bag, weighing ypown his eyelids.

Hasheth left the smithy, reclaimed his horse, and set Joff at a brisk pace for the stables. He would change to a lore suitable mount, and then he would pay a visit to |flie gentleman whose coin he had purchased.

But first, he had to devise some pretense. It would be |feurly easy, as Lord Hhune’s apprentice, to be granted

The Harpers

an audience. But first, Hasheth wanted to figure out some way to insinuate himself into the society of the Knights, something that would buy him membership into this exclusive and powerful group.

The Harpers were all fine and well, and they seemed to come up with coin when they required it, but from what Hasheth had observed, most of their agents were not concerned with amassing personal wealth or power. All told, the Knights of the Shield was a society far more suited to his ambitions. Hasheth was determined to find a way in, and he would count the cost—whatever it might be-—a bargain.

Eighteen

Nearly two days passed. The forest elves seemed quietly impressed with Kendel Leafbower, for the moon elf had picked up considerable skill at woods lore during his four centuries of life. He walked ______ nearly as silently as a forest elf, and he hunted game for the small group while the others stayed at their camp to guard their moon-elven battle leader.

Jill spent much of the time teasing Ferret, much to the amusement of Arilyn and Foxfire. It quickly became apparent to everyone but Ferret that the dwarf was flirting outrageously with her. As she watched Jill’s avid pursuit of the elf woman, Arilyn was reminded of a question that often occurred to her when she saw a form dog chasing a horse-drawn cart: what would he do iŁ by chance, he succeeded in catching it?

She read in Foxfire’s twinkling eyes thoughts similar .to her own. And behind the laughter in his eyes lurked : the memories of their own times together. This made

290

The Harpers

the course before Arilyn even more difficult, yet it steeled her resolution to follow it. Foxfire was dear to her; she would do what she must for him and the People.

And so, as soon as Arilyn felt strong enough to travel, she announced her intention of returning to Zazesspur.

“It was your idea,” she retorted when Foxfire tried to dissuade her. “You brought up the fact that this Bunlap and his men are a matter for the humans to deal with. Let me find out who holds this hound’s leash, and then let the humans take care of their own problems.”

Tin going with you,” Fterret declared, her black eyes daring the half-elf to argue.

Arilyn didn’t bother to try. For what she had in mind, two people would be needed. And she was certain Ferret would give her enthusiastic support to the plan Arilyn had in mind.

She was going to bring Soora Thea back to the wild elves.

Jill, however, had already divined her purpose. “Yer not thinkin’ to go back into that pink prison, are you? Yer plannin’ on bringin’ out that sleeping elf woman, aren’t you? You are,” he added with disgust. “I kin see it in yer face. Well, I’m not fer goin’ with you.”

“I wouldn’t ask it of you,” Arilyn said gently. “You spent ten years in that palace. That is enough.”

“You think I’m owing you fer springin’ me outta that trap,” the dwarf continued ranting, as if he hadn’t heard a word she said. “You and this scrawny female can’t fight yer way outta there alone, and you can’t be totin’ that liddle sleeping elf woman back to the forest, jest the two of you. Now, I’m not wantin’ to speak for Kendel, here—”

“I will come, too,” the moon elf said quietly.