He looked up and met her eyes, and her suspicions faded away. The young fool's face was as bland as porridge, and he flashed the charming smile that she was beginning to find irritating.
"Lovely ring. Very popular style in Waterdeep," he commented lightly. He picked up Arilyn's hand and surveyed it with the grave expression of a connoisseur, several of his own rings catching the light as he turned her hand this way and that. "They were selling these at the open-air market last summer festival. Did you get it then?"
His question seemed innocent enough, but Arilyn answered evasively. "My business hasn't taken me to Waterdeep in some time."
"What business are you in?" A huge man with black hair and rust-colored whiskers addressed the neckline of Arilyn's gown, leaning forward for a better view as he spoke. "A fellow merchant, perhaps?"
"No, not a merchant," Arilyn answered sweetly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the last of Harvid's men leave the tavern. The inn's patrons relaxed, and renewed conversation and calls for ale filled the tavern. It was the perfect moment to slip away. "My 'business,' such as it is, is best conducted in private." She rose, extending a hand and a smile of invitation to Danilo.
The red-whiskered man guffawed and clapped Danilo on the back. "Well, lad, you're set for the evening."
"If I don't return for a while, don't bother looking for me," he told the men with mock sternness. He took Arilyn's hand and let her lead him to the rear of the tavern. There was a door there, an exit that could lead upstairs or outside. She'd have to persuade him to take the latter option.
"Perhaps a short stroll?" Danilo suggested when they reached the doorway. "The night is lovely. Cool, but I do love autumn weather."
That's one problem solved, Arilyn noted, and she readily agreed. A pair of lovers out for a moonlight stroll would not draw a second glance. Then, once they were safely in the forest, she could conveniently lose him. Let him wander back on his own and explain her absence to his cronies.
Danilo tucked her arm cozily into his. He chattered merrily as they walked down the street behind the tavern, regaling her with a version of Waterdhavian gossip that would have been highly amusing if Arilyn had been in the mood to be entertained.
Arilyn encouraged the young nobleman's cheerful talk with appropriate inane noises, subtly guiding their path out of the bustle of arriving merchant caravans and toward the forest. The trading center at the Halfway Inn was as large as some towns, and at their leisurely pace it was almost an hour before they neared the path that followed the forest edge. The fickle autumn weather changed as they walked, and a damp wind began to hint at rain.
As Danilo Thann talked, Arilyn listened carefully to the night sounds. Voices drifted toward them from the inn, and horses nickered contentedly in the nearby stables. Once, she noticed that the shadow of a bush seemed disproportionately long. Later, a partridge flew up as if something had come too close to her nest. Never was there a suspicious sound, but Arilyn slowly became convinced that someone was following her still.
Damn! she thought vehemently. And after all the trouble she had gone through in the tavern to leave her shadow behind. Harvid's men were still stomping around the inn's grounds, and sounds of a fight would draw them like vultures to carrion.
A twig snapped a few feet away. Keeping her face expressionless, Arilyn slid one hand between the folds of her bright skirt and drew a dagger from its hiding place. As she and Danilo passed a large elm, Arilyn burst into motion. Wrenching her arm free from the nobleman's grasp, she reached behind the tree and dragged out a man by a handful of his hair. She threw the man against the trunk of the tree and pressed her dagger firmly against his neck. Immediately she recognized him as one of the ruffians who'd been with Harvid Beornigarth in the tavern, although she had not seen him in Harvid's crew before tonight. His face would be hard to forget; a jagged purple scar cut across one cheek, his nose had been broken at least once, and he was minus an ear.
"Why are you following me?" she demanded.
The man licked his lips nervously. "I saw you in the tavern. You came out alone, so I thought I'd… you know."
"The lady is not alone," Danilo Thann broke in haughtily. "Most certainly not. She is with me."
"Stay out of this," growled the lady in question. The noblemen fell back a step, raising his hands obligingly.
"You've been following me since I left the tavern? Not before?" It seemed unlikely to Arilyn that this ruffian could be her mysterious shadow, but she planned to find out for sure. The man hesitated just a shade too long before answering.
"No, just since the tavern. I've never seen you before."
Arilyn's blade slid along the man's jawline, removing a good deal of dark stubble as well as a bit of skin. "I'm not sure I believe you. Who are you working for?"
"Harvid Beornigarth. The big man with the yellow braids."
"No one else?"
"No!"
In spite of his guilty, furtive eyes, Arilyn was inclined to believe him. This was no canny assassin. She started to ease the dagger away when a dull flash of gold caught her eye. Her free hand darted into the open sack that was tied around the man's waist, and she drew out a golden snuff box with a curling rune engraved on the lid. It was a familiar rune. Arilyn caught her breath.
"Where did you get this?" she rasped, thrusting the box close to the man's face. The rune on it was the sigil of the mage Perendra of Waterdeep. She had been one of the first to fall to the Harper Assassin.
The man's eyes filled with panic and flickered back and forth as if seeking a means of escape. "Waterdeep," he croaked. "I got it in Waterdeep."
"I know that. Tell me more."
"From an elf. In Waterdeep. That's all I know, I swear."
"Does this elf have a name?"
Beads of sweat broke out on the man's face. "No, please! If I tell you his name he'll kill me."
"If you don't, I'll kill you."
"Life is just full of difficult decisions," Danilo Thann noted behind her. The unexpected sound startled Arilyn.
"Are you still here?" She threw a glance over her shoulder. The nobleman was leaning casually against a tree, arms crossed.
"Well, naturally," he replied. "It's dangerous out here. Who knows, there could be more of these men lying in wait."
"I don't need protection," she said emphatically.
"My point precisely," he said. "If it's all the same to you, I don't mind remaining in the company of a lady who knows her way around a dagger."
"Suit yourself." Arilyn turned her full attention back to her captive. "The elf's name?"
"I can't tell you!" he said in desperation. The dagger began its path along his jaw again. "All right! All right."
"Well?"
"His name is-"
The ruffian's voice snapped off as if he'd been throttled. Slowly Arilyn lowered the dagger, watching in disbelief as the man's face blackened and his tongue bulged out of his mouth. She backed away, unable to take her eyes from the horribly distorted face. A low, rattling gurgle burst from the man, and he slid, lifeless, down the length of the tree trunk.
"Merciful Mystra!" exclaimed Danilo Thann. "You've killed him!"
Six
Arilyn spun around to face the horrified nobleman. "I did not kill this man," she said.
"Well, I certainly didn't," retorted Danilo Thann. "I might not know much, but I do know dead. And he's it. How do you explain that?"
"I can't."
"Me either. We'd better go back to the tavern and alert the local authorities. Let them figure it out."