"Uncle Pogg!" came a shrill youthful voice as a boy burst into the inn. Some heads turned, and a few people regarded the interloper curiously.
"Trevys!" cried the heavyset barkeep, his thick brown eyebrows drawn together in a puzzled frown. "What in the name of-come here, lad!"
Breathlessly the shaggy-haired boy hastened to his uncle's side.
"Uncle, we found a Rider's horse, and Papa said I was to come here and tell you. He thinks we'd better get her back to her master, and-"
"Yes, yes. We can do that in the morning. Didn't your father remember that the competition was tonight?" Pogg sighed heavily, rolling his eyes. "No, Shomar wouldn't remember such things."
"But the Rider-"
"In the morning, Trevys. It's dark outside now, and I'm very, very busy."
The elderly man sitting next to Jander had watched the scene with amusement. Now he broke in. "Your uncle is right, Trevys. Here's something to take your mind off your troubles." He waved the slim, soft fingers of his right hand, and three glowing balls appeared over the boy's head. Trevys gasped, reaching hesitantly for the radiant orbs.
“Toss them up gently, and they'll float like snowflakes," the mage said, smiling. Enchanted by the lovely magical conjurations, Trevys obediently wandered into an unoccupied corner, bouncing the balls in front of him.
"Ah, to be so young and so easily amused," sighed Jander. The mage turned toward him, and the gold elf gazed deeply into the old man's pale blue eyes. "What is your name, good wizard?"
The man blinked, trying to tear his eyes away from Jander's intense gaze. "Pakar," he murmured at last, surrendering to the silent command the elf was issuing.
Jander took silent assessment of the man's powers. He's a strong magician, he noted to himself, but not quite strong enough to resist me. Aloud the elf said, "And I am Jander Sunstar. Should I need your skills someday, learned Pakar, I hope I may be able to call upon them."
Pakar stared, captivated. "Certainly."
The gold elf smiled. "Aluise, another drink for my friend," he told the barmaid as she approached the bar to refill several mugs. The girl wasn't beautiful, but she had a full, shapely figure and impish, laughing eyes. A pert, tilted-up nose added to the impression of mischief. She winked amiably at Jander as he placed the coins on the bar and turned his attention back toward the stage.
The present performer was well worth his attention. His voice was sweet and pure, and the intricately carved harp cradled against his shoulder marked him as a bard of consequence. One, thought Jander, who had obviously traveled a long way. The bright yellow tunic, echoing the pale blond of his hair, and the rose hue of his breeches clearly marked the young man as an outsider. Folk in Mistledale dressed more soberly, especially at this time of year.
Jander's eyes narrowed. The singer wore something draped around his neck on a leather thong. It hung down into his tunic, out of sight, but the garment's top buttons were undone. The bard reached for a lower note on the harp, moving forward slightly to pluck the strings, and an object fastened on the end of the leather thong swung into view. Jander saw the object for only an instant before it disappeared back into the folds of the singer's clothing, but that was long enough.
It was a wooden disc, with no decorations marring its simple beauty, painted a rosy shade of pink. Jander knew the symbol well. That would explain the singer's clothes, too, hues of yellow and rose-
A painful, ironic joy rose in Jander's heart. The bard was a priest of Lathander Morninglord, the god that Jander had once followed. He wished desperately that the young priest had chosen someplace, anyplace, else to pass the evening. His presence at the inn would definitely cause a problem.
"For once I managed to sneak up on you," came Rhynn's teasing voice. Jander whipped around, startled, as she slipped into the empty seat on his left. Still clad in her black leather armor, sword at her side, she presented an odd picture as she laughed brightly at the gold elf's obvious surprise.
"Rhynn! What are you doing here? You're guarding the gate tonight!"
"Well, that's a wonderful way to greet a friend," she snapped, genuinely hurt. "I thought you'd be-"
"You can't stay here."
Rhynn crossed her arms over her chest. "Damned if I'll take orders from a civilian! This is a public house, and the only one who can order me out of here is Pogg. Besides, you owe me a drink, remember?"
"Will ye be takin' him up on the offer, Lieutenant?" Aluise queried, ever ready to pick up on a cue.
"Aye, Aluise, I'll have a glass of wine," the Rider decided, then added archly, "It's so nice to linger over a good wine, don't you agree?"
"Oh, aye. And what'll ye be drinkin', Master Jander?"
"Nothing, thank you," the gold elf replied. Aluise nodded and, armed with refilled mugs, turned to deliver them to their proper destinations.
Rhynn frowned, and Jander's heart began to sink. Did she suspect?
"That's right. You never do drink with me, do you? Something's going on," she said slowly, her indigo eyes searching Jander's face. "You're sorry to say good-bye when I'm on patrol, but when Theorn relieves me of duty and I show up here, you don't want to see me. What's happening, Jander? I'm not a fool."
He had to get her out of here, and swiftly, too. "Rhynn, please, trust me when I say leave here right now."
"One last drink, and I'll be on my way," Rhynn agreed. She smiled impishly. "I'll have it out of you by the time I'm done."
" 'Scuse me," came a small voice at her elbow. Rhynn glanced down to see Trevys peering up at her. The three glowing balls trailed languidly behind him in the air. "My Uncle Pogg said you was a Rider." Rhynn nodded. "We found a white horse. Papa says it's a Rider's mount. Might you be able to take her to her owner?"
"You must be mistaken," Rhynn replied. "All the Riders would have been notified if one of ours had gone missing."
The boy looked distressed. "Please, miss. She's pure white, with a black leather saddle on, and-"
"A black leather saddle? Take me to her," said Khynn, rising at once.
As she passed Jander, the gold elf hissed in her ear. "Please, just take the boy and go!"
Rhynn spun around, an angry retort on her lips, but Jander was gone. Thoroughly baffled, she grasped Trevys's small hand firmly and wound her way through the press of people.
She had almost reached the door when, abruptly, it banged open. Indigo yowled, his fur standing up, and dove for the shadows. Reacting instinctively, Rhynn pushed Trevys behind her and reached for the sword buckled on her hip. Trevys needed no further urging and fled like a young hare for the bar and Uncle Pogg.
From behind, a hand closed on Rhynn's upper arm with a cold, steely grip. "Stay quiet and pray they don't notice you." She didn't need to see the man holding her to know it was Jander. He pulled her backward toward a shadowy corner of the taproom.
A young man entered. He was a beautiful youth, with a full, thick head of copper-colored hair and a high, pale brow. Sensuous lips curved in a grin that housed a world of malice. The cut of his clothing bespoke wealth, although his shirt and breeches had seen better days and appeared rather antiquated in style.
Following him were two young women, a blond and a brunette, both human. They were as beautiful as he was handsome, but, as with the youth, an air of malevolence hung about them like a poisonous perfume. The two entered without the stranger's flamboyance and purposefully moved toward the back of the room. Keeping his eyes fixed on the crowd, which had grown silent and tense, the stranger shrugged out of his cloak, tossing the garment carelessly toward one of the wooden pegs in the wall. It caught, held, and swung slowly like a hanged man for a few seconds.