Songs & Swords 1 (25 page)

The shop itself was an unassuming building fashioned of sandstone blocks. The only extravagance was a richly carved door of some exotic dark wood. As Arilyn drew closer, she saw that the door had in it a second, smaller door, which closed over a window cut near eye level. This small door stood ajar to reveal shelves and cases displaying the merchant’s wares, but the door itself was securely bolted. Arilyn rapped loudly on the jamb.

“We’re closed,” came a voice from the back. “Come back another day.”

“My business can’t wait.”

“Well, it’ll have to!”

Arilyn balled her hand into a fist and knocked again, louder this time. The last two people who lingered near the shop exchanged uncertain glances and drifted off.

“Go away!”

“As soon as my business is concluded, I’ll be happy to.”

Muttering, a short pudgy man came out of a back room and lumbered to the door. Despite his rather undignified size, the man strove for a suave appearance. His clothes were carefully tailored dark garments, over which he wore an open scholar’s robe of sober black to emphasize that he was both a successful merchant and a learned man. His black hair had been oiled and smoothed into place, and his round face was wreathed in fat. At the moment he appeared pale and drawn, and one hand had been clumsily wrapped in layers of gauze. His eyes swept disdainfully over Arilyn’s peasant boy disguise. “What business of yours could be so important?”

“I’m looking for Jannaxil.”

“What do you want with me?”

Arilyn held up the charcoal sketch she’d made of the thief Barth. “Do you know this man?”

The merchant’s small eyes narrowed into slits. “He does not look like the sort who purchases books. Neither do you, for that matter. Go away, and don’t waste my time.”

“Now see here, my good man,” Danilo said, his hand toying casually with his pendant so that the Thann family crest was prominently displayed. “We have excellent reasons for seeking this man, and I suggest you cooperate with us.”

The nobleman’s tone was haughty in the extreme, his stance the overbearing mien of one who was accustomed to obedience. Jannaxil responded with the instincts of a born sycophant. He shot back the bolt locking the door to the shop and ushered them in with murmured apologies and repeated bows that were as low as his pudgy physique permitted.

The fence led Danilo and Arilyn to a back office. The room was lined with shelves of rare books, many inlaid with precious stones and metals. Arilyn refused any refreshments and took the seat offered her in front of the merchant’s oaken table.

Danilo refused both, preferring to lounge against a shelf laden with books.

“I’ll just browse, if you don’t mind,” he said to Jannaxil.

“Of course.” The fence took a chair behind the table. Arilyn caught sight of a small, jagged hole, made obvious by the polished wood. The fence casually moved an ink stand over the spot and dropped his bandaged hand onto his lap.

“What can I do for the Thann family?” he asked grandly. The unspoken addition “this time” echoed clearly in his tone.

Arilyn drew a gold snuffbox from the folds of her cloak and held it up. “Ever see this before?”

The man shrugged. “It is possible. Gold snuffboxes of that type are common enough.”

“Very few bear this mark.” Arilyn placed the box on the table before him and tapped the flowing rune engraved onto the top. “Do you know this mark?”

“My field of expertise is books and rare papers,” the man said importantly. “I cannot be expected to know the sigil of every mage in Faerun.”

Arilyn leaned forward. “I can tell you’re a learned man,” she said in a pleasant voice. Jannaxil inclined his head in modest agreement. “Otherwise, you could not know that this was a mage’s sigil.” Her shot found its mark, and a nerve twitched under the man’s left eye.

“What else could such a mark be?”

“What else indeed?” Arilyn laid the sketch down beside the box. “You’re quite certain you’ve never seen this man?”

Jannaxil picked up the sketch and studied it. “Hmm. Come to think of it, I believe he did purchase a book some months ago. Paid for it in barter.”

“This box?” she asked.

The man smiled suavely and spread the fingers of his one good hand, as if to say, “all right, you’ve caught me.”

“These books must be quite expensive,” Danilo said, looking up from an illuminated volume. “I doubt you got the best of that deal.”

“It is a most unusual box,” Jannaxil said defensively. He reached for it and raised his eyebrow to ask permission. Arilyn gave a curt nod. The fence opened the box, took a liberal pinch of snuff, savored it. “Ahh. The best I’ve encountered anywhere.” He removed a large piece of parchment from a drawer and placed it on the table, then he dumped the rest of the snuff onto it, shaking the box to empty it completely. Then he closed the lid and handed the box to Arilyn. “Have some.”

Curious, the half-elf opened the box. It was full to the brim. She set it down.

“You see?” The fence shot a triumphant glance at Danilo. “It is quite a valuable item. The enchantment is very strong.”

“It ought to be,” Arilyn said. “The box belonged to the mage Perendra.” Jannaxil responded to this announcement with deftly feigned surprise. “I don’t suppose you received anything else of hers—in barter?”

“It’s not likely.” The man paused, considered. “Of course, since I didn’t know this was stolen, it’s possible that something else of the mage’s came into my hands. I do not know. I deal in books, mind you. And, as young Lord Thann pointed out, many of my books are extremely valuable. On occasion, I do exchange a book for barter, since scholars are notoriously short of cash. I get whatever I can for the goods I receive.”

“Funny, I wouldn’t have taken our man Barth for a scholar,” Danilo said mildly.

“The thirst for knowledge can reside in the humblest of men,” the fence said piously. “I have learned to overlook appearances.”

“That is wise, I’m sure,” Danilo said. He picked up a small, leatherbound tome and glanced at the pages. “What language is this?”

“Turmish.” Jannaxil looked sharply at the nobleman. “That book is not for sale.” Nodding agreeably, Danilo put the book down and picked up another.

“How did this man happen to acquire the snuffbox?” Arilyn broke in.

“Who can say?”

“Our man said he got it from an elf,” Danilo said helpfully.

“Strangest thing, really. He tried to tell us the elf’s name, and he died.” Danilo shrugged and picked up a book with a cover made of fine inlaid wood.

“An elf?” asked the fence in a dry whisper.

“Yes, that’s what he said. Barth also had a partner,” Danilo mentioned, looking up from the book. “A man by the name of Hamit. Poor man got a dagger in the back.” Jannaxil’s eyes widened in pure panic, and the nobleman appeared stricken with remorse. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was he a friend of yours?”

“No,” the fence said hastily. A light went on in the man’s eyes, and as he glanced down at the hand in his lap his face took on a crafty appearance. “Perendra the mage was slain by the Harper Assassin, was she not?”

“It’s possible,” Arilyn said.

“What will happen to this assassin, should you find him?”

Arilyn looked steadily at the fence, letting him read her intentions. He looked intrigued, then his round face clouded and his eyes fell to the desk. After a moment he said in a flat tone, “I’m afraid I can’t help you. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

Murmuring her thanks, Arilyn rose to leave. Danilo laid down the book he’d been perusing, stretched lazily, and followed her out of the shop.

“We certainly didn’t get much from him,” the half-elf grumbled as they walked down Book Street.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”

Something in the dandy’s smug tone stopped Arilyn in midstride. “What did we get?”

“This.” Danilo held up a book bound in plain brown leather.

“What’s that?”

“Jannaxil’s account book.”

Thirteen

Arilyn took off her cap and raked one hand through her hair. “Let me understand this. You stole the man’s account book?”

“Why not?” Danilo said mildly, stuffing the book back into his sack. “To whom is he going to complain? Let’s take a look at it over lunch, shall we? There’s a tavern nearby that has the most wonderful fried fish.”

“That was a stupid risk to take.”

The dandy smirked. “You’re just mad because you didn’t think of it first.”

“You may be right,” Arilyn admitted. “How did you get it? I didn’t see you take it out of the shop,” she said, allowing him to guide her down the street.

“Thank you,” he said as if he’d just been complimented. “Ah, here’s the tavern. The Friendly Flounder, and aptly named it is.”

Danilo ushered her into the small taproom, which was already filled with people and the pungent odors of ale and fried fish. Danilo ordered for them both. He ate quickly, then he carefully wiped his fingers free of grease and took out the book. On it were neat columns filled with some ornate eastern script.

“You can read that?” Arilyn asked.

“Not yet.”

Danilo cast a cantrip, a simple spell to discern language. Before his eyes, the flowing lines on the page shifted and wiggled, rearranging themselves into Common. “What do you know!” Danilo said admiringly. “It worked!”

“Resourceful, aren’t you?” Arilyn commented, observing him keenly.

“Occasionally, though often accidentally,” Danilo said. He turned the pages of the book, taking no more than a glance at each one. After several moments, he looked up. “I don’t think you’re going to like this.”

“Well?”

Danilo slid the book closer to Arilyn and turned to a page near the middle. “Look at this item. Elaith Craulnobur, purchased twenty uncut sapphires.” He flipped several pages and pointed. “Here’s his name again, as seller of a spellbook. Here he acquired a Cledwyll statue, and on this date he was really in the mood to shop. On the final page, there’s a notation concerning an inquiry by Elaith Craulnobur.” Danilo looked up and held Arilyn’s eyes. “It seems that the good elf is a regular customer.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s the elf we seek,” Arilyn pointed out.

“Don’t be too sure.” Danilo flipped back a few pages. “On this day the fence received a shipment of rare coins from Elaith Craulnobur. The coins were delivered by a man named Hamit, to whom the fence gave a receipt. Do I say ‘I told you so’ now, or shall I wait until you’re unarmed?”

“All right, you’ve made your point,” Arilyn conceded, “but how did you do that? You knew exactly where to turn each time.”

“The benefit of having an empty head, my dear, is that you can fill it with all manner of inconsequential things. I’ve an excellent memory, in addition to all my other gifts.”

“But—”

“Ah! Listen to this! This settles the matter, I should say.”

Danilo’s tone was so triumphant that Arilyn allowed herself to be distracted. She listened with growing dismay as Danilo read a list of goods received from Hamit, a list that included an enchanted snuffbox. She rose from the table and tossed down a few coins to pay for her uneaten fish.

“Where are we going now?” the dandy asked in a voice heavy with weary resignation.

“To see Elaith Craulnobur.”

Suddenly energized, Danilo leaped up from the table and followed the half-elf out of the tavern. “Arilyn, this is not a good idea. He isn’t going to like what you’ve got to say, and they don’t call him the Serpent without good cause.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Danilo grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. “Wait! I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we just turn the elf in to the authorities?”

“On what proof?”

That stopped him. “Well, what about those two men? Barth and Hamit? They both were murdered, one by magic and one by a dagger.”

Arilyn pulled away from the nobleman’s grasp and started purposefully back toward Adder Lane. “There is nothing to prove that Elaith Craulnobur was responsible for the death of those men.”

Danilo threw up his hands. “What would convince you? A signed confession?”

“Enough!” She snapped, stabbing a finger at him. “I’ve no time to argue. I’m going. You can come or not as you choose. If you’re afraid, stay here.”

Danilo sniffed disdainfully. “I’m not afraid of the elf, but I dislike being associated with such a scoundrel.”

“You’re with a suspected assassin,” she pointed out.

“Ah, but there’s a world of difference, my dear,” Danilo returned with a smug grin. He fell in beside Arilyn, his polished boots clicking along the stone streets as he kept pace with her. “Different planes, altogether. An assassin is colorful, and therefore, almost respectable. At any rate, this adventure shall make for a most interesting song.”

“Ever the bard,” she mocked.

“I just hope I live long enough to sing this tale,” he commented lightly.

There was more than enough truth in his jest to make Arilyn wince. “You’ve endeavored to deliver my shadow back to me, for which I thank you,” she said. “Please do not feel obliged to stay on my account.”

“You seem to forget that I, too, have a stake in finding this assassin,” Danilo reminded her. “He tried to kill me once, you know. It could well be that he’s the persistent type.”

“You’ve run from the assassin already,” Arilyn said. “Suddenly you’re eager to confront him?”

“Actually,” Danilo admitted, “no. I was hoping to be around when you caught up with him. It should be quite a show.” At Arilyn’s derisive sniff, he added defensively, “Well, someone has to be there to record the event for generations yet unborn. Can you think of a better means than a ballad, or a person better suited to the task than myself?”

“Yes.”

For once, Arilyn’s words seemed to pierce the noble’s inch-thick hide. Looking thoroughly insulted, Danilo subsided into silence and allowed the half-elf to tend to business. Quickly they retraced their steps to Adder Lane, pushing through crowds and weaving through the vendors and street entertainers that had cropped up everywhere like mushrooms after a summer rain. When they reached Elaith’s tavern, they were greeted by the new sign that hung over the doorway.

“The Hidden Blade, eh?” Danilo murmured. “Very reassuring.”