The answer to that, in Dan's opinion, was "not often enough." He and Arilyn had decided to go separate ways for much of the evening, assuming that Danilo's peers might be more forthcoming with gossip if the half-elf were not too close at hand. Her hearing was keener than any human's, so she could gather information in a different fashion.
Apart from talk of Haedrak's claim, most of the gossip Danilo had heard focused upon the party's hostess. He watched Galinda Raventree as she glided about the dance floor, deftly steering compatible guests toward each other and just as skillfully heading off possible confrontations. The woman was a marvel—he had often remarked to his fellow Lords that she would be a redoubtable diplomat.
His fellow Lords, was it? Danilo grimaced as he realized that he had yet to return the Lord's Helm to Piergeiron. So many other matters demanded his attention. He would be glad to get the city and its demands behind him and begin shaping his life in a pattern more to his liking.
This returned his thoughts firmly to Lilly and to the confrontation he intended to have with Lord Rhammas concerning duty to family—all members of that family, regardless of which side of the blanket they happened to be born on.
He handed his empty goblet to a passing servant and took off in search of his father. Not a difficult task—he merely followed the tang of pipe smoke to the room where Lord Rhammas and a dozen or so of his peers waged war with weapons of thick, painted parchment.
Danilo had never been one for cards, but courtesy demanded he wait and watch until Rhammas tired of the game. Finally the older man threw down a losing hand and announced his desire for air.
He did not acknowledge his son's tacit request for conversation, but he fell into step and they walked out to the garden together. Neither man spoke until Danilo was reasonably certain they would not be overheard.
"All has been done as you requested, sir."
The older man nodded. "Good. That's settled, then."
"After a fashion, yes. But I am curious: why has Lilly never come to light before? Did you not know of her?"
Rhammas sent him a quelling glance. "The matter has been handled. There are other, more important concerns to attend."
More important than a newfound daughter? Danilo did not speak the words, but he saw from the flash of anger in his father's eyes that he had not managed to keep the challenge from his face. Well, now that his opinion was known, he might as well be shorn for a sheep as for a lamb. "I cannot conceive of anything more important," Dan said softly.
"Then apparently you haven't heard of the raid upon the consortium's air caravan."
This was the first time his father had ever mentioned the family business in Danilo's hearing. The shock of this was quickly overtaken by the implication of his father's words. A feel of cold, creeping dread threaded its way through Danilo's irritation.
"The caravan was a joint effort among several of the noble families," Rhammas explained, oblivious to his son's stunned reaction to this news. "Fine cargo—gems, swords, small statues, and the like—were flown to Silverymoon, with the intention of bringing back more of the same."
Danilo's mind raced with dire possibility. Foremost among them was Bronwyn's safety. She had sent him word that she planned to join an air caravan organized by the Ilzimmer and Gundwynd families, in which both Elaith Craulnober and Mizzen Doar, the crystal merchant, had purchased passage.
"Flown," he repeated.
Rhammas took this single world as a question. "Griffons, pegasi, large birds. Ingenious notion, but we all warned Lord Gundwynd that he stood to lose a fortune should things go awry. Those beasts were at least as valuable as the cargo they carried."
"Were?"
This time Danilo did intend the question. The attack must have been devastating, if some of these fierce beasts had been lost in the fighting!
His father either missed the question or chose not to dwell upon such unpleasantness. "I must say, this economy of response is not your usual custom. Well done. Quite refreshing."
Danilo shook off what might have been either compliment or insult. If Bronwyn had traveled in that caravan, and Elaith as well, either or both might be dead.
"Were there survivors?"
"Oh, Lord Gundwynd came through just fine. Tough old bird—couldn't kill that man with a meat axe. So did some of the mercenaries, and most of the merchants. The caravan lost a few guards and some hired hands. And the cargo, of course. Bad business all around."
It was an unusually long speech. Lord Rhammas lifted his pipe in a gesture of unmistakable finality. He took a draw, frowned, and then held it out for inspection. The wisp of smoke had vanished. He murmured something unintelligible, then wandered off in search of fire.
Danilo scanned the room for a likely source of further information. Nearby, Myrna Cassalanter was busily plying her family trade. The gossipmonger spoke in low, hurried tones to a pair of young women—an incongruous pair, since one was clad as shepherdess complete with be-ribboned crook, and the other was wearing a fur wrap and carrying a wolf mask on a stick. The protector and the ravager of sheep listened with identical expressions of shocked delight, and the glances they slid toward their hostess left little doubt as to the subject of Myrna's spiteful tale. Nonetheless, Danilo moved closer. Myrna might be annoying, but she served a purpose.
"Our Galinda has debts, you see," explained the gossipmonger, "but to maintain appearances, she has been replacing her gems with false stones."
"Her jewelry looks the same as ever," observed one of the women, eyeing the emerald pendant that nestled in the hollow of Galinda's throat.
"What would you expect? Even the faux pieces are fine work—if you consider counterfeiting an art." Myrna paused to give weight to her next words. "Apparently the Ilzimmer family does."
She glanced up at Dan's approach, and a shimmer of malicious delight crossed her face. "Lord Thann. You've heard about the air caravan, no doubt? But of course you have, since your family had an investment in its success."
The emphasis she gave to the final word held a nasty insinuation. Of what, Danilo was not certain. He pasted a bland smile on his face. "Actually, I have come to inquire on that very matter. What more do you know than is commonly spoken?"
The woman cocked her bright head and considered him as a horse trader might size up a plow nag for possible resale. "I hear that this year's spiced winterfest wine will be extraordinary. Ten bottles would be a reasonable exchange."
Myrna's companions frowned, clearly displeased by this blatant display of commerce at a social event. They withdrew with frosty little bows and flittered off to spread tales of their own.
"Strange that you should be seeking answers from me," Myrna purred, clearly enjoying herself. "There are others who could tell you for a smaller fee, or none at all. I do not complain, mind you."
Danilo was in no mood to spar. "For a simple answer, speedily delivered, you might expect an extra bottle."
The woman pouted. "Oh, very well. The favored rumors suggest that the theft was the work of insiders. The bandits were too well and cannily armed, and they lay hidden in wait in the very place the caravan used as a rest stop on the way north. Most are suspicious of Elaith Craulnober, of course. He traveled to Silverymoon with the caravan but not back. Yet many saw him take part in the battle. He disappeared soon after, riding a Gundwynd pegasus."
This news was disturbing but not entirely unexpected. Whether the elf had a part in the theft or not, he would be suspected. "And Bronwyn?"
"Who?"
"The young woman who keeps The Curious Past. You have been in her shop at least a dozen times. Small woman, long brown hair, big eyes."
"Oh, her." The noblewoman's tone was dismissive, almost disdainful.
"Do you know how she fared?" Dan persisted.
Myrna shrugged, looking none too pleased to be presented with questions for which she had no answers—even if the subject of inquiry was nothing but a common little shopkeeper. "Ask the elf. He was there."
She pointed to the far side of the room. Danilo's eyes widened as they settled on a tall, slender figure clad in deep purple and silver. Elaith had chosen an elaborate costume of an era long past, worn by elves and humans alike in the ancient courts of Tethyr. Either the elf was being unusually diplomatic or his costume was the equivalent of a green cloak in the forest—an attempt to blend in. Many wore the purple of Tethyr in Haedrak's honor.
Danilo made his way across to the elf as quickly as he could navigate the crowd. "You have had an eventful trip, I hear," he began.
The elf gave him a faint, mocking smile. "Let us dispense with the usual pleasantries and get to the meat of the matter. When I left Bronwyn, she was in good health, if poor company. She is a most resourceful young woman. Most resourceful," he added with rueful emphasis.
Danilo was beginning to see the shape of things. He also felt more than a little guilty about agreeing to have Elaith watched and followed. "I am always glad to hear word of Bronwyn," he said carefully. "She is an old friend."
"And a new Harper," the elf said. "Spare me the sophistry. I am watched by the Harpers and others. This is nothing new. Whether you had a hand in Bronwyn's task or not, I neither know nor care. Either way, I'm sure you are interested in the outcome."
"Well, now that you mention it."
"Both Bronwyn and I lost treasure in the raid—for which, I assure you, I was not responsible."