"About Lady Cassandra? Not a word of it. What does she need with youth potions, if she has elven blood? Although I suspect she would support Diloontier's lie rather than lay claim to her heritage."
He did not refute her. "There is nothing more to be seen here."
Arilyn was silent for a long moment. Actually, she suspected there was much, much more to be gleaned in this city. The tren came from these tunnels. So did poisons, which had most likely been used to kill Lady Dezlentyr. Arilyn had gone to considerable trouble to find out Diloontier's supplier, visiting acquaintances she had not seen for years and creating markers that she dreaded paying.
However, at the moment there was little more that they could do. This place had yielded not answers, but new and disturbing questions. "Whatever Diloontier came to buy is long gone," she agreed. She nudged at one of the corpses with her boot. "Whoever killed these men has it."
"Killing to procure poison," Danilo mused. "Seems rather an indirect way to go about things, doesn't it? This is not my sphere of expertise, mind you, but it seems to me that the affair would run much smoother all around if the middle merchant were removed from the transaction."
That was precisely what Arilyn intended to do, but she was not yet ready to voice her intentions. In many ways, Danilo embraced elven ways more wholeheartedly than she herself did. He trusted Elaith Craulnober and the pledge of Elf-friend. She could not bring herself to destroy that until she knew for certain that her suspicions described truth rather than her own bias.
Nor was she quite ready to confront the old patterns and roles into which she was falling with such ease. Every time she turned she was slapped with reminders of her dark reputation. If truth be told, she felt more at home in Waterdeep's underbelly than she did at a nobleman's ball. Her human side was coming grimly to the fore, while the elven magic of her moonblade was oddly sporadic. At the rate she was going, Danilo might not have to worry about the inconvenience of life with an elven hero.
Arilyn glanced down at the moonblade, half hoping that it would summon her to duty with faint green light. Of course it did not.
She wondered if it would ever do so again.
* * * * *
When they returned to the city above, Danilo took at once to his bathhouse. After an hour in a hot tub, the memory of the underground city's fetid stench began to fade. Danilo was soaking still when his steward came tapping at the door.
"Your pardon, sir, but you have received a most urgent message from Lord Rhammas."
News of an invading flight of dragons would not have been more unexpected. Danilo all but leaped from the tub, sending bathwater and soap flying like a flock of small, startled birds. He seized a towel and strode from his dressing room. "Is someone hurt? Sick? Or is it Judith? Gods! Her babe is due at any time. Her first!"
The halfling wiped a blob of scented foam from his forehead. "Your sister is fine, sir. She has another moon and more to await the child's birth," he reminded Dan. "This message regards a personal matter of highly sensitive nature. Your father bids you to attend him at The Laughing Mermaid with all haste. I will have your horse brought to the front gate."
Somewhat reassured but still mightily puzzled, Danilo quickly dressed and then rode the few blocks to the posh tavern.
The Laughing Mermaid was one of the few drinking spots in the staid North Ward. It was equally famed for its sumptuous gaming tables and its small, private rooms. Danilo knew that Lord Rhammas prized the tavern as a place to gossip and gamble with his equally idle peers, but he had never thought of his father having cause to employ one of the meeting rooms. Certainly, Danilo had never expected a summons to such a meeting.
His curiosity was near fever pitch as he dismounted in front of the enormous, ugly marble statue of a centaur. He tossed his reins to the attentive groom and hurried up the stairs to the front hall.
One of the minotaur guards nodded, recognizing Danilo as a member. The creature beckoned for him to follow, then trotted off, its massive haunches bunching with each stride. Its long, curving horns swept through a low-hanging chandelier, coaxing a hushed tinkle from the crystals that brought to mind a bevy of schoolgirls whispering and giggling behind their small hands.
The minotaur stopped before a thick oaken door and snorted insistently, as if to indicate that its mission was complete—or would be, once Danilo entered the room. The sound was disconcertingly like a bull readying for the charge, and Danilo got the distinct impression that he could attend this meeting under his own power or be tossed through the door on the minotaur's horns. He gave the creature a coin, then slipped into the room.
Rhammas Thann rose to meet his son, reaching his hand out in the gesture of one comrade to another. Danilo took his father's hand as if this were the most normal situation in the world. They sat down across a small table and for a few minutes engaged in the sort of meaningless talk that oiled the wheels of every such meeting the room had ever hosted.
Finally Rhammas got to the point. "You enjoy considerable personal wealth. The fund your mother and I started for you at your birth has increased a thousandfold and could keep you in style for the rest of your days. You have also your share of the wine business and the increase on your investment in the bard's college. I hear both are doing exceptionally well."
Danilo nodded cautiously. "That is the shape of things."
"I have cause to ask that you part with some small portion of your ready cash," Lord Rhammas said stiffly, and with obvious reluctance. The man paused, grimaced, and squared his shoulders to steel himself for words yet to come. "A matter of some delicacy has been brought to my attention. It is one I would just as soon keep from your mother's eyes."
"Ah." Danilo settled back in his chair and considered the summons in this clear light.
Of all his siblings, Danilo was the least involved in the Thann family affairs—and the son least likely to report back to Lady Cassandra. Judith, the sister nearest him in age and temperament, also tended to follow her own mind and inclinations, but Judith's husband, a merchant sea captain who cut a dashing figure and who claimed distant ties to Cormyr's royal family, owed his position and wealth to the Thann family shipping concerns. He was therefore as devoted to Lady Cassandra's whims and moods as any lapdog. Judith was as yet too besotted to realize what manner of toady shared her bed, and she held back nothing from her husband. Lord Rhammas would get little discretion from that quarter.
"A personal matter?" Danilo took care to keep his tone even, to ask a question without offering censure.
"That is so. Before I proceed, I must have your word that this will not be bandied about in one of your inane ballads."
"So pledged," Danilo said shortly. The comment stung more than it should. As well accustomed as he was to his family's indulgent disdain, it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain the role he had chosen to play.
"Very well, then. A woman of my acquaintance finds herself in distress and wishes to leave this city quietly and soon. Discretion is imperative. Your mother tells me you have some connections among the Harpers. You have managed such things?"
"Many times," Danilo assured him. Of course, never once had he considered that such skills might enable him to attend his father's mistress—and by the sound of things, a woman inconveniently with child.
Danilo was not certain how he should feel about the matter. Bastards were nothing new among the nobility, or among the common folk either, for that matter. Many marriages were made for gain or convenience, and children conceived outside such unions were usually acknowledged and granted some measure of acceptance.
Even so, he could understand his father's desire to keep this matter entirely from Lady Cassandra's eyes. If his father wished to discharge his responsibilities with extreme discretion, Danilo was not about to gainsay him. He was not certain, however, whether this unexpected request should rightly be viewed as an insult or an expression of confidence.
One way or another, it mattered not. This was the first thing his father had ever asked of him. Whatever Rhammas thought of him, Danilo could hardly refuse.
"I will see the lady safely out of the city in a matter of days and see that she does not want for anything. Will that serve?"
"Admirably." Rhammas pushed a folded bit of parchment across the table. "You can find her there. She is expecting a visit from you this night. I hope that will be convenient."
It was far from convenient. Danilo considered the day he had spent and the plans he had for the night ahead. His servants were preparing a private feast for two, then anticipating a night's holiday while their master and his lady had the house to themselves—a stolen hour or two before they tended Danilo's latest social responsibility.
Frustration swept through him. One more duty, one more delay—and this time, he could not place the blame on Arilyn's moonblade.
"Convenient is not the word I would have chosen," he commented. "Nonetheless, all will be done as you ask."
* * * * *
When Danilo sent word canceling their evening plans, Arilyn had returned with the messenger and insisted upon accompanying Danilo into the Dock Ward. He seemed oddly preoccupied and was reticent about details of the task ahead.
A simple matter, he told her. He would make the first contact, then two Harper agents would see the plan through. That much was true, of that Arilyn was certain, but she could not guess what truths remained unspoken.
Her questions settled into certainty the moment the young woman opened the door to her chamber. This woman was not Rhammas Thann's mistress, but his child.
Arilyn glanced from Danilo to the girl. The resemblance was remarkable. Though her hair was an unusual shade of pale red-gold, her face had the same well-shaped features and sharply defined bones. Also familiar was the slender, graceful form reminiscent of dancers or—and this insight startled Arilyn—gold elves. The girl could probably claim an elven ancestor no more than two or three generations back. Arilyn had never seen the evidence of Danilo's distant elven heritage, but it was there beyond doubt in the mirror that was his sister's face.
Nor did the similarity end there. Familiar mischief lurked behind the girl's uncertain smile and intelligence was evident in the quick, observant glance she cast over her visitors. Arilyn would wager that the girl didn't miss much.
The tavern maid seemed reassured by what she saw, at any rate. She stepped back and swept a hand toward the poor room—a gesture that was at once sincere welcome and self-parody. "You are kind to come, Lord Thann."
"Lilly," Danilo said, studying the girl with puzzlement. "I did not expect to see you."
"I'll warrant you did not," she agreed. She glanced over at the half-elf and gave her a small, knowing smile—one that confirmed what Arilyn saw and gave a wordless, wistful commentary on the blindness of men. "Thank you for coming, lass. I'm taking it as a kindness that you came along with Lord Thann, seeing as how rough this part of town can be."
"You'll be safe soon enough," Arilyn assured her. She looked to Danilo to explain the plan.
His attention had been captured by a small object on the bed. "Is that what I think it is?" he demanded.