"Well, if the gods aren't chuckling!" the halfling said between bites of a raw potato. "Hiya, Renaer, Vharem! Whatchaguys doing here? Who's the big blond axeman? Anybody got any tinder to start a fire? I'm freezing."
The double-doors to the study opened, and a halfling stumbled through them, followed by Renaer, who shoved him forward. Vharem and Meloon, each laden with food, followed.
"Everyone, meet Ellial's son and Madrak's grandson, Osco Salibuck."
Osco recovered from his stumble, cartwheeled across the remainder of the room, and landed easily on a footrest by the fire at the center of the southern wall. The hin gleefully rubbed his hands and buttocks, standing to absorb more warmth from the fire and sighing with pleasure. "Haven't been warm for three days, thank Brandobaris for this," he muttered, and then turned back to the group. "You used to be nicer to me, Ren, when we were the same height," He raised his eyebrows when he noticed Laraelra and Vajra stirring on the divans across the room. He slicked his hair back and jerked his thumb toward Renaer. "We grew up together, you know, and I could tell you stories about him. Why, when he was five-"
"We'd rather hear the story about how you got here," Renaer said, narrowing his eyes.
"Oh, enough about me," Osco said. "What are you doing here?"
"Uh-uh," Vharem said. "This little one's got a talent for avoiding questions-usually because he's filched something or stuck you with his tavern debt."
Osco clutched his hands over his heart and fell on his knees.
"Oh, such barbs from one I called fellow and comrade!" Vharem rolled his eyes.
"Answer me, Osco, or Madrak'll hear where you've been trespassing without invite."
Osco rolled his eyes and sat down hard. "You're no fun anymore, Ren. Just because I found out how you get here doesn't mean I'm going to take anything. There's no trust anymore."
Vharem cleared his throat, produced three silver forks, and waved them at Osco, who patted a belt pouch and then scowled at the slender human. He crossed his arms and sulked, muttering, "Just needed a place to lie low for a few days. Figured you'd not be here until spring. Sorry for intruding where I'm not wanted."
"Who're you hiding from, Osco?" Renaer said. "And how did you find out about this place and how to get here?"
"You and Gradam are always plotting," Osco said, "and I just made it a point to follow you around, quietlike. I watched you disappear from the garden and you returned the next day, so I figured, wherever it was, it was a safe place. I got Sharal to pour the water for me and ended up here three days ago. Three miserably uncomfortable days, mind you, as there's no fireboxes of wood around here. How'd you guys get this fire going?"
"Magic," Laraelra said. "I know you, little halfling, or at least I've heard of you. Someone matching your description posed as a cellarer and stole a lot of gems a few tendays ago from a client in Trades Ward. My father's still. fighting with the Gralleths over that, and the only thing keeping it out of Lords' Court is the indisputable fact. that there are no halflings in the Cellarers and Plumbers' Guild."
"You wound me, Lady Harsard," Osco chided, clasping his hands over his heart. "Besides, it could have been anyone shorter than him, as Malaerigo and Lord Chalras can't tell a halfling from a gnome or a dwarf, let alone identify any hin among hin."
"While that might be true," Laraelra said. "I never said which Gralleth was robbed."
Osco grimaced and then shot a wink and grin up at Meloon. "Women with brains. They'll be our downfall in every way, eh?"
Meloon looked down at the halfling and said, "And so the wagons roll, little friend."
"Enough!" Renaer yelled, and everyone started and looked at him. Vajra stirred a moment on her couch before settling back into unconsciousness. "Osco, you're coming back with us tomorrow when we leave. Stay with us, and maybe we can help you with whatever problem had you hiding out here. If you don't want to come back, good luck, but you're not staying here without someone to watch you."
"But it just got more comfortable," Osco whined. He shot a sly glance at the two women and said, "And it just got far better looking than it's been."
Vharem said, "I vote we just chuck him out in the snow. He'll only draw down more trouble on us."
"Oho! Renaer and Vharem are fleeing from trouble?" Osco's face lit up. "Did you get hired to help them out, big axeman, or are you all conspirators, kidnapping the Tethyrian over there?"
"No!" Meloon said.
Laraelra snickered at his shocked look. She snapped her fingers to get Osco's attention and said, "You're very good at deflecting attention off yourself, aren't you, little hin?"
"Yes, he is," Renaer said, "but I know him well enough to know when he's lying. Osco, help us out when we return to the city, or we'll just let Laraelra turn you over to her father and let the taols fall where they may."
"You'd betray a childhood friend, just like that?" Osco said. "Is that why that overgrown hin Faxhal isn't with you now? You left him to his creditors or something?"
Laraelra and Vharem gasped at the halfling, and Renaer felt like he'd been slammed in the stomach again. While others turned away, he met the halfling's gaze, his eyes watering, and Osco realized something truly bad had happened.
"Faxhal's dead, Osco," Renaer whispered.
Osco cleared his throat and said, "Sorry, Ren. Really."
For a few long moments, the only sounds were the crackle of flames in the fire grates. Then Renaer stood, opened a bottle of wine, and took a long drink. He passed it on, and Vharem, Meloon, Elra, and Osco each drank, then held the bottle toward the fire, silently saluting Faxhal. Osco returned the bottle to Renaer, who drained it. "Sleep, friends, and we'll leave come dawn."
Osco, his voice softer, asked, "Ren, why leave at all? This place is stocked well enough to keep us a while. Some of us can hunt for food too. Can't we hide out here until spring?"
"We must help Vajra. She's been tortured for the past month or more."
Osco's curly eyebrows shot up, he shot a glance toward Vajra, and then shrugged. "She looks fine to me. Must not have been too bad. They torture her with feathers?"
"I've had healers cure her body, but they can't repair her mind. She's the Blackstaffs heir, and there's someone back in Waterdeep posing as Samark the Blackstaff. He and Khondar 'Ten-Rings' Naomal, the Watchful Order's most arrogant guild-senior, are up to something, and they need her secrets."
"Why?" Osco asked. "What could she tell them? And why should we get involved in the Blackstaffs mess? It'll just lead to us being tortured-the kind without feathers!"
Vajra sat bolt upright on the divan, leveled steel blue eyes at the halfling and said, "You know many secrets that lie beneath black stones, Osco Salibuck. Do these deeds for me, and know the Black-staff rewards his friends well." Her tone was grave and stern, but then she looked quizzically at Osco and asked, "When did your eye get restored?"
When Osco just looked at her strangely, the blue-eyed wizard stopped speaking, and then she collapsed back onto the couch, unconscious.
Osco looked at her, then Renaer, and the others, and said, "Bet she's fun at parties. I've never met her before in my life, so I don't know how she knew my name. And I've no idea what else she was blathering on about."
When Vharem shot him a disbelieving look, he pleaded, "Honestly!"
"She does that," Renaer said, "but she rarely speaks as clearly. Normally it's like there's a bunch of folk fighting to talk through her. I think if we take her to Blackstaff Tower, it might help her. At least it'd be a safer place for her to hide."
"So how does that make it our problem?"
"Because they knew we're aware that they're up to something, fool," Vharem said as he sliced off a large hunk of cheese from the wheel he'd brought with him. "Besides, if someone else steals her power as the Blackstaff, they could kill Renaer and all of us far too easily. Not to mention anyone else associated with Renaet, like a certain family of hin servants?"