Eirgel drew himself up with shining eyes, saluted her with the dagger he'd whipped out, and put it away. By then the space between him and the doors was crowded with excited boys. The steward came into view around the edge of the door behind them, half carrying a sleeping boy. "Here we muster all, Great Lady."
"My thanks, Rorild, and to all of you for prompt obe shy;dience. This won't take long." Alustriel turned to the merchant and said, "Stand up, Oscalar, and point out to me the page who brought you the note."
The merchant looked at her with a sort of sick dread on his face, and got up slowly, staring around almost helplessly at the sea of boys. Out of their midst a hand shot up, and an eager voice piped, "If you please, Lady Alustriel, 'twas I."
Alustriel turned to Oscalar. "Well?"
The merchant was almost gasping with relief. "Yes- yes! This is the boy."
Silver hair swirling around her shoulders as if it had a life of her own-there was a murmur of excitement among the pages-Alustriel turned to the page and asked, "Who gave you that note, Kulden?"
"I-ah, no one, lady. 'Twas left on my delivery tray, so I delivered it."
"Thank you, all of you. You've just done Silverymoon good service indeed. Back to your duties or leisure, now, all of you-save you, Kulden."
When the shouting was done and the room empty again, Alustriel made sure the fat merchant and the excited page had not been mistaken with each other. She sent Kulden off to the kitchens then to find Pheldren and demand the same treatment as his colleague was enjoy shy;ing. "If you hurry, merchant," she said to Oscalar, "you may yet find those kisses. Take your daggers with you."
Oscalar Maerbree gave her a wild look, but remained where he was. A slow smile grew on Alustriel's face, and she reached down an arm to help haul him to his feet. The merchant looked at her hand for a moment as if it was the head of a snake that might bite him, then took it, and found himself on his feet with his nose an inch or two from that of the High Lady of Silverymoon. He reeled hastily away, breathing heavily.
"Have done with mocking me," he snarled, heading for his knives.
He was snatching them both up from the table when two slender arms went around him from behind, and a cool voice said in his ear, "I don't mock you, Oscalar, and I won't. I wronged you, thinking you a liar. You told me the truth, and to me-or any ruler-that's worth more than a year of fawning and florid compliments. Here."
Oscalar Maerbree turned around with the daggers raised before him like a defensive wall. Alustriel stretched her perfect white throat between them and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek.
Oscalar blinked at her. He did not resist when she pushed the daggers aside and put her lips firmly on his.
He was struggling for air when their battle of tongues ended and Alustriel gently pushed him away, laughing, and said, "Behold your kisses, Sword of Sil shy;verymoon. Now get out of here, and put those daggers away before I have two murders to investigate."
The wine merchant looked at her with astonishment ruling his face. He tried to speak several times before he managed to ask, "Why?"
Alustriel put a hand on one hip and struck a smol shy;dering pose of promise against the doorframe. "I know you, merchant. You're going to roll down the hall and out into my city bursting to tell someone about this night. You can't help not flapping your jaws, so I want you to tell all the Moon about kissing me, and not a word about Tradelord Muirtree or murder or you being suspected of it. Do you understand me?"
Oscalar swallowed at the dark fires that were now back in her eyes, and stammered, "Y-yes, High Lady." He went to one knee, almost falling over, and said in a rush, "You can depend on me, lady! Truly! I–I-"
"I know I can. Call me Alustriel," the ruler of Sil shy;verymoon said almost affectionately, taking firm hold of the merchant's ears and hauling him to his feet as if he was made of feathers. Tears started into his eyes from the pain of that handling, as he gaped again at her strength, and she grinned at him like the sister of his youth had once done, and added, "Ah, dripping dag shy;gers, man. Have three."
When her lips came down on his this time, Oscalar Maerbree closed his eyes and steadied himself, daring to reach out and gently hold her shoulders. He very much-and forever-wanted to remember this.
"There goes one man who will love savagely tonight, then go to bed alone and lie awake thinking of you," Taern Hornblade said gravely.
Alustriel's head snapped around. Had those words held more than just a hint of wistfulness?
"Am I too hard on you, most loyal of men?" she asked softly, lifting a hand toward one side of his face.
Taern shuddered, and put up a firm hand to capture her fingers. "Lady, don't. Please don't. It's hard enough."
They regarded each other thoughtfully for a moment, then Alustriel bowed her head and said, "Forgive me, Taern." She brought his hand, by means of the fingers he still held, back up between their faces, and added, "This wisdom of yours is why you will rule this city someday."
"Lady, please don't speak of such things. All I can think of when you say that is your. ."
"My death?" At his silent nod, Alustriel shrugged. "It will come, one day, and find me. We can none of us hide from it, and I've had far longer a run than most." Her face changed. "Someone helped it find Garthin Muirtree earlier than it should have, however, and I know from your signal that lusty old Oscalar was telling me the simple truth."
"Lady," Taern told her gravely, "they were all telling the truth-both guards, both pages, and the merchant-or believed they were."
"So where does that leave us?"
"Either someone did a lot of spellwork to twist and tamper with a lot of minds-very quickly, and with no traces that I noticed-or someone deceived their eyes, far more simply, earlier this day."
"Someone wearing a spell-spun likeness of Oscalar met with Garthin, and murdered him," Alustriel mur shy;mured.
Taern nodded. "Indeed. Which of the others will you question first?"
The High Lady of Silverymoon smiled thinly. "Flarwood. Then the exalted Tradelord of Luskan, followed by Janthasarde to give us some time to recover from the Luskanite … and Labraster last. Cast a fresh truth field before we begin, and have whoever of the Spellguard is up on the balcony with you hand me down your wineskin for a swallow, before anything else."
"Wineskin, lady?"
"Truth, Taern. Simple truth, remember?"
The Seneschal of the High Palace flushed and asked, "The red wine or the white, lady?"
"Alustriel, Taern. To you it is Alustriel, or Lustra. White, damn you."
"Shining Lady, I'm flattered indeed that you've asked to see me this day!" Goodman Draevin Flarwood's bow was so low that he almost knelt. "I'm proud that the Braeder Merchant Collective has caught your eye, amid all the shining successes your rule of justice and peace has made possible."
"Well," Alustriel said in dry tones, "I like to be over shy;whelmed."
"Silverymoon is a great city," the merchant said excit shy;edly. "Perhaps the greatest city. I grew up here scarcely appreciating all you've wrought until I traveled the face of Faerun trading, and saw what holds sway else shy;where. There's just one thing, Shining Lady, that puz shy;zles me."
"And what might that be?"
"With all this prosperity and love of learning, the Moon's long ties with Everlund, and our growing friendship with like-minded cities of the North, why, High Lady, have you avoided building an army and border castles? Why is your Spellguard not an able force for justice and hunting miscreants, like the War Wizards Cormyr boasts?"
Alustriel stretched a little on the lounge, and ges shy;tured to him. "Please be seated, Goodman. Here."