recognized the worth of this disguise, the contrast between Danilo's appearance and his true nature did not, for one moment, cease to irritate her.
As was his recent custom, he was clad entirely in shades of purple-the traditional color of Tethyr-and bedecked with a small fortune in gold-and-amethyst jewelry. Arilyn had told him more than once that this affectation made him look like a walking grape, but in truth the opulent color suited him well.
Everything about the young man and his setting bespoke wealth, ease, and privilege. The room behind him was vast and luxurious, although a bit cluttered with the trappings of his public and personal endeavors. One long table was heavily laden with goblets and bottles of fine wine-a testament to his current role as a member of Tethyr's guild of wine merchants. Spellbooks were scattered across a reading table of Chultan teak, and the small crystal scrying globe on the table near the window was but one of many magic devices that protected the room and its occupant. The chamber's hand-knotted carpet-rendered in shades of purple, of course-was heaped with tapestry pillows. Lying among them was the lute Danilo had set aside, an exquisite instrument inlaid with darker woods and mother-of-pearl. Beside the lute was his swordbelt, which held not only his rapier, but an ancient sword in a bejeweled scabbard. A magic weapon, Arilyn guessed, noting the distinctive curved pommel that marked it as a sword of Halruaan make.
All this she took in with a single sweeping glance. Noted, too, was the sudden intense flash, quickly hidden, that came into the young man's eyes as his gaze swept over her. Arilyn knew her partner's perception and attention to detail at least equaled her own, and for a moment she wondered what he saw in a disheveled, too-thin, half-elven assassin that could kindle such a flame.
"Lovely night for second-story work," Danilo observed in a casual tone as he handed her a goblet. "That jump was most impressive. But tell me, have you ever miscalculated the rope's length?"
Arilyn shook her head, then absently tossed back the contents of her goblet. "We're leaving Tethyr," she stated, plunking her empty goblet down on Danilo's table.
He placed his own goblet beside hers. "Oh?" he asked warily.
"Someone has placed a bounty on your head," Arilyn said in a grim tone as she handed him the heavy gold coin. "These were given to any assassin willing to take on the job. One hundred more to whoever makes the
km."
Danilo hefted the coin in a practiced hand and then let out a long, low whistle. The coin was about three times the normal trade weight. The amount Arilyn had named was a substantial sum, one likely to tempt even high-ranking assassins to take on the assignment. But the young Harper did not seem concerned by the danger. He examined the gold piece with the detachment of a coin collector, running admiring fingers over the embossed pattern of runes and symbols.
"It would seem Fm attracting a better class of enemies these days," he observed wryly.
"Listen to me!" Arilyn snapped, clasping both his forearms and giving him a little shake. "I heard someone singing your ballad about the Harper assassin."
"Merciful Milil," he swore softly, and Arilyn saw understanding dawning in his eyes.
Danilo had written the ballad about their first adventure together. He hadn't performed it in over two years and certainly had the sense not to sing it in Tethyr. Although the song did not identify him as a Harper, even a mention of those "meddling Northern barbarians" could create a good deal of resentment and suspicion in this troubled land. Woven into the ballad were hints concerning Danilo's identity, and the careful listener could soon ascertain that the hero and the poser were one. He had written the song to convince Arilyn that he was a vain and vapid courtier, and it had effectively served its purpose. But the fact that it was being sung here in Tethyr would force a rapid end to their mission. The young Harper contemplated the loss of all this work with a rueful smile.
"The locals express their musical preferences rather forcefully, wouldn't you say?" he commented lightly.
Before Arilyn could draw breath for an exasperated rejoinder, Danilo silenced her with an apologetic smile and an uplifted hand. Tin sorry, my dear. Force of habit. You're right, of course. We must ride north at once."
"No."
She reached out and touched one of Danilo's rings-a magical gift from his uncle, Khelben Arunsun, that could teleport up to three people back to the safety of BlackstafF Tower, or elsewhere if the wielder so chose.
Arilyn hated magical travel; in her mind, it was a choice of last resort. The knowledge of this was written clearly in Danilo's eyes. Understanding her urgency, he quickly donned his swordbelt and affixed to it the magic bag that held his wardrobe and travel supplies. He added three spellbooks to the bag and then absently dropped in the assassin's coin. With one hand he snatched up his lute; with the other he reached out to Arilyn.
She took a step backward and shook her head. "I'm not coming with you."
"Arilyn, this is no time to be squeamish!"
"It's not that." She took a deep breath, for the words were harder to say than she had imagined possible. "Word came from Waterdeep. IVe been assigned another mission. I leave in the morning."
Danilo's eyes widened. For a moment, Arilyn glimpsed in them the poignant longing that he was so careful to hide from her. Then, deftly, his expression changed to portray the pique of a spoiled nobleman who was unaccustomed to events that strayed from the path of his preference. His eyes betrayed nothing but incredulity that the Master Harpers would presume to separate them. It was a fine performance. Arilyn, however, was not fooled.
But before she could speak, the alarm on Danilo's magical scrying globe began to pulse again. The half-elf snatched up the crystal and peered into it. The scene within showed three shadowy figures moving toward the edge of the rooЈ just two stories above them. Some of Arilyn's colleagues were coming to collect their prize.
She tossed the alarm aside and cast a glace toward the open window and the nearly invisible rope outside. "There's no time to explain," she told him. "Go!"
But Danilo, who had also taken a good look into the crystal, shook his head. "And leave you to face them alone? Not bloody likely."
Arilyn attempted a smile and touched the gray silk sash that proclaimed her rank among Tethyr's assassins. "I'm one of them, remember? Til say that you were gone. No one will challenge me."
"Of course they will," he snapped, for he well knew how Tethyr's assassins rose through the ranks. Arilyn was aware that her partner had paid out large sums to keep apprised of her dark and solitary path. She'd been able to keep news of many of her adventures from him, but he knew she'd been forced more than once to defend her reluctantly worn sash from ambitious fellow assassins. There were three of them now, and if she was alone, they would almost certainly seize the opportunity to attack her. Which of them would eventually possess her Shadow Sash would be a matter they'd settle among themselves at a later time.
The rope she'd left hanging outside Danilo's window began to sway as someone inched down it toward his room. "Go," Arilyn pleaded.
"Come with me," he demanded in an implacable tone.
The half-elf shook her head, cursing the streak of steel that hid behind Dauilo's foppish persona.” She knew it well, and knew also that there was little chance of reasoning with him once his mind was set.
Predictably enough, the Harper tossed aside his priceless lute without thought or care, and pulled her into his arms.
"If you think I'd leave you, you're a bigger fool than I am," he said quickly, angrily, his words racing against the approaching danger. "This is hardly the moment I'd have chosen to mention this, but damn it, woman, I love you."