Songs & Swords 2 (9 page)

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Authors: Elaine Cunningham

BOOK: Songs & Swords 2
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In the curve of a bay window, under a trellis covered with flowering vines, sat a drab half-elf woman, playing a small dark harp of ancient design. To a casual observer, the woman’s fading hair and simple gray gown made her look like a plump and matronly goodwife, entirely out of place in the elegant room. Since it was Lucia’s job to see what others missed, she noted the haughty, aristocratic tilt of the half-elf’s head, the power and assurance in her long-fingered hands, and the intelligence in her vivid blue eyes. Although prudence demanded that she summon a servant to oust this intruder, instinct warned Lucia that this was something she should handle herself, and carefully.

“I have met all, this evening’s performers,” Lucia began. “Despite your skill on the harp, lady, you are not one of them. May I know your name?”

The harpist did not look up from her playing. “You may call me Garnet. Since we have worked together before, I see no need for formality. Please, sit down.”

Lucia sank onto the low, velvet-covered bench, as far away from the strange half-elf as possible. “My memory is excellent, but I don’t recall our association.”

“Three nights ago, in the Street of Swords bazaar district. That ballad you heard was mine, and that bard is under my influence. By itself, the ballad is creating quite a stir, but I watched you at work afterward, and I must admit that you enhanced the situation admirably”

“You flatter me,” the noblewoman said cautiously, distressed to learn that her actions had not escaped notice.

“Not at all. I’ve made some inquiries, and you are an astonishingly versatile woman. Your business interests make you an influential part of Waterdeep’s web of commerce, and you pay membership dues to two guilds. You have also reached a high position in court society” Garnet finally stopped playing and looked up, locking her intense blue gaze with the noblewoman’s wary eyes. “And, most important, you have managed to infiltrate the Lords of Waterdeep. No wonder the Knights of the Shield speak highly of you. I am told that you’re their highest ranked agent in this city”

Lucia’s heart thumped painfully, but she merely folded her hands in her silken lap. “I would be a fool to admit to any of this,” she said.

“Yes, you would,” Garnet agreed with a thin smile. “But since I am quite sure of my facts, I don’t require verification.”

The noblewoman’s mind raced over the possibilities. Other than her trusted agents, no one in Waterdeep knew that she was a member of the Knights of the Shield, a secret organization from the south that gathered information and manipulated politics to whatever end suited them. Obviously, with this information, Garnet could threaten to ruin her in Waterdeep and demand whatever she liked. There was a second danger: the half-elf s words revealed to Lucia that this information had come directly from high officials in the Knights of the Shield. Lucia had secured her position with the Knights by claiming to be one of the secret Lords of Waterdeep. Since the identity Of the Lords was a closely held secret, and since the Knights and the Lords were bitter enemies and not known to exchange information, she had little fear that either her superiors or the true Lords would discover her ruse. If this half-elf—who clearly had the ear of someone important among the Knights—was going to demand favors that only a Lord of Waterdeep could accomplish, then Lucia had a serious problem.

“You seem to know a great deal about me, and therefore you have me at a disadvantage,” Lucia said sweetly, hoping to draw more information from Garnet

“What would you like to know?” the half-elf responded bluntly

“Well, you said that the bard was under your influence. How was this done?”

Garnet plucked a large purple trumpet flower from the vines overhead and handed it to the noblewoman. “I’ll show you how it was done,” she said simply, and once again she put her fingers to the harp strings. She began to play a lilting dance tune, to which she sang a few lines of cryptic verse.

The flower in Lucia’s hand collapsed into a withered brown thread. The noblewoman gasped and looked up at the trellis. The vines were also blighted, and a dead leaf drifted onto her upturned cheek. Lucia brushed it off and took a deep, steadying breath. “You are a sorceress then, as well as a bard.”

“Whether those are two separate things or parts of one talent is a matter for a later discussion. It will suffice to say that, like you, I have many skills. We share a single purpose, however: to work against the Lords of Waterdeep.” Garnet gently removed the harp from her shoulder and leaned toward the noblewoman. “May I speak frankly?”

“Please.”

“Working from the inside, you can do much against Waterdeep’s secret Lords. But can you strike against Khelben Arunsun

“Many have tried and failed. He is too powerful,” Lucia hedged.

“That is my point precisely,” Garnet said, stabbing the air with a slender finger. Khelben is far too powerful. Many consider him the backbone of the Lords’ power and influence. This offends me. I do not believe he should be in a position of political power, and I will see him removed.”

Lucia doubted this, but she was in no position to argue. “What would you have me do?”

“Harass the other Lords. Keep them busy, off guard. Send them running about the city stamping out small fires.”

“You hardly need my help for that. Waterdeep has many problems these days.”

Garnet smiled and inclined her head in a slight bow. ‘Thank you.”

The noblewoman absorbed this, studying the withered flower in her hand. If the blight on the local fields and crops was Garnet’s doing, this woman was powerful indeed. “How will you remove Khelben from his position?”

“The archmage may be too formidable to attack, but no one is too powerful to discredit.”

“But the Knights of the Shield have sought for many years for information we could use against him!”

“A thing need not be true to be damaging,” Garnet pointed out. “An accusation need not be proven; oft times it is enough that words are said. Words have great power.” She reached out and stroked the dark wood of her harp. “As does music.”

After a few moments’ reflection, the sorceress continued. “I control many bards. They will spread tales about Khelben, and about his lady. As it happens, most of these will be true. I know many things about Khelben, things only a few of his closest friends suspect My bards will apply pressure, as you saw the other evening.”

“And I?”

“You know who the Lords are. If enough of them are kept out of the way, we increase the pressure on Khelben. Eventually, even he will make a mistake, and you may be assured that the entire city will know of it”

“But doesn’t that put you in a dangerous situation? When these little-known tales are told, they may well be traced to you.”

“Very perceptive,” Garnet said approvingly. “The Knights were not wrong in their estimation of your talents. But I have anticipated that, and I have prepared a distraction. Khelben’s nephew, Danilo Thann, has bardic pretensions. I have improved many of the young man’s songs, and I have woven them into the memories of the bards I control. You can be sure that these songs are widely and often sung. As you know, Waterdeep is a city of passing fashions, each pursued almost fanatically before being abandoned for the next. Danilo Thann’s songs are currently all the rage, and the Waterdhavians listen with close attention and great interest Thus shall I use Danilo Thann to discredit his uncle, the archmage, while deflecting attention that might have otherwise come my way. He will accept the credit, and the blame.”

Lucia shook her head adamantly “I know Danilo. He is a bit of a fool, but there is no malice in him. He will not stand by to see his uncle discredited. Neither can I picture him as a master bard, and I’m sure many others suffer from a similar lack of imagination.”

Garnet tucked a loose strand of graying brown hair behind one slightly pointed ear. “Fair concerns, both of them, but I assure you that neither will be a problem. The young “bard’s‘ fame has become well established, and it will continue to grow—posthumously. Now, have we an agreement?”

It was clear to Lucia that she had little choice in the matter, but she saw that the scheme could redound to her own benefit. If they succeeded in removing Khelben Arunsun from power, she could name her reward, and the Knights would be delighted to grant it. As for her own deepest secret, she would handle Garnet the same way she had dealt with her superiors for years: pretend to be a Lord of Waterdeep, and pass along as privileged information things she garnered through business deals, social gossip, and her network of spies. And perhaps, if her suspicions were correct, her liaison with Caladorn might prove useful, as well as entertaining. The young man was besotted with her and trusted her completely. If he had any secrets, they were hers for the taking.

“I believe we can work together,” Lucia agreed. “Now, tell me a little more about your plan.”

“That is not necessary. We shall proceed one step at a time. When I require your services, I will detail what is expected.”

That was more than a descendant of royalty could abide. Lucia rose slowly to her feet. Trembling with anger, she glared down at the half-elf. “I am servant to no one. Remember, you need my political power.”

“Less than you need the magic I wield through music,” Garnet returned. For a long moment their eyes held in silent challenge. Lucia was the first to look away.

“Then it is settled,” Garnet said with a smile. “Bardcraft and politics will join forces once again, and that is as it should be. Now, let us show Khelben Arunsun what can be done when there is a proper balance between the two.”

Now that he was face-to-face with Elaith Craulnober, Danilo began to doubt the wisdom of his decision to confront the elf and bargain for Vartain’s services. When they’d first met, some two years earlier, Elaith had taken an instant dislike to Danilo and, for that reason alone, had ordered his death. Judging from the vexation on Elaith’s handsome, angular face, Danilo supposed that the elf was regretting his decision to rescind that order.

A wild giggle shattered the tense silence, and a ragged elf capered through the garden. The setting sun cast a long, emaciated shadow behind him as he whirled and leaped. Danilo watched the elf disappear around a corner, then turned a bland smile toward Elaith. “Friend of yours?”

The moon elf ignored Danilo’s needling and pointed to the Harper pin. “How did you come by one of those? I know many who would pay dearly to obtain it, should you choose to sell.”

“One must earn a Harper pin,” Danilo said quietly. The elf chuckled. “And you have?”

“Let’s just say that if I haven’t already, I’m about to.” Elaith folded his arms and cocked a silver eyebrow. “You have my attention.”

`The Harpers require the services of a bard. Since most of these have fallen under a spell that affects their music and memories, I was drafted to help.”

“Really! Thank you for sharing such welcome news,” the elf said with a cordial smile. “Many of my associates will be delighted to learn that the Harpers have fallen to such depths. I shall dine out on this tale for months to come.”

“So glad to be of service. Now, if I may present my companions: Morgalla the Mirthful, a bard of astounding talents, and Wyn Ashgrove, a minstrel from Evermeet. Perhaps you’ve met him before?” Danilo’s choice of words was not entirely without malice; he knew of Elaith’s self-imposed exile from the island homeland of the elves.

Wyn greeted the moon elf with a polite ritual bow, which Elaith simply ignored. He shot an incredulous glance at the stout, short, brown-clad woman who’d come to stand at Danilo’s side. “A dwarf, Lord Thann? Your taste in traveling companions has sadly deteriorated. Where is Arilyn these days?”

“Elsewhere,” Danilo said curtly. “Now, if we’ve exhausted our present supply of verbal stilettos, I have a business proposal for you.”

Elaith looked intrigued. “A deal that brought the son of a Waterdeep merchant this far afield might prove interesting.”

“It’s unusual, at the very least,” the Harper said. “Sing him the ballad, Wyn.”

The minstrel took his silver lyre from its shoulder strap and sang the Ballad of Grimnoshtadrano. Elaith seemed irritated by this development and gave the gold elf scant attention, but as Wyn sang, Vartain came to stand at his employer’s side. The riddlemaster listened with deep interest, and his prominent black eyes were lively with intelligence and curiosity.

“I believe I see this path’s destination,” Vartain said when the song was done. “These three wish to answer the dragon’s challenge, which means they must answer a riddle, read a scroll, and sing a song. Since the words ‘reading a scroll’ most likely indicate the casting of a spell, this young man is probably a mage. He travels with two bards. What he yet lacks is the talents of a riddlemaster, and he has come here to bid for my services. With all three skills, they have a chance at success, or, at the very least, survival.”

“Well, you’re not going,” Elaith said flatly. “You signed on for the duration of this hunt, and you will remain in my service.”

Vartain nodded, but he pulled Elaith aside. Turning his back to the newcomers, he began to spell out his argument in the silent hand language of thieves’ cant. “As a riddlemaster, I collect lore of many kinds. Recently I’ve noted that ballads by and about Harpers have changed. When I questioned the bards who sang them, they all insisted that the songs were as they had always been. It is likely that what this young man says is true. No available Harper bards were unaffected by this spell, yet the dragon’s challenge specifies that a Harper must come. This would explain why the young man so openly touts his affiliation with this usually secret organization. Perhaps the Harpers are undergoing difficult times, but they are generally quite effective. If they have given assent to this quest, I believe it is because it has a fair chance of success.”

“So?” Elaith asked aloud.

“So you can make his success your own,” Vartain spelled out, his bony fingers gesticulating with fluid, practiced ease. “You were not listening to the ballad, but it stated that those who successfully challenge Grimnoshtadrano can choose their reward from the dragon’s hoard.”-

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