This notion stole the sneer from Rhep's face. His bravado vanished as he realized the truth of the elf's words and saw the battle could have been finished that quickly and that easily. His eyes were dark with the image of himself lying helpless, unable to rise, impotent to do anything but await the killing stroke.
"No games," Rhep said grimly. "Let's have done with this."
He came in with a rush, sword held high with both hands. He smashed down hard toward the elf, wagering everything on his superior size and strength.
Elaith whirled aside, not bothering to parry the mighty blow, but Rhep kept coming, battering away at the elf, pounding at him with all his force and fury.
It was actually a good strategy, Elaith acknowledged. It forced him into a two-handed grip and slowed him down. He was smaller and faster, and Rhep's attack forced the battle into a contest of strength. To compen shy;sate, the elf came in close, dangerously close, so that he had to catch the furious blows near the hilt of his weapon. He was close enough now to bring a second weapon to bear once the opportunity presented itself.
Rhep saw the strategy and began to retreat. The elf pressed him, following him, matching him step for step and meeting each blow. With growing desperation, the man struck out hard and then followed the sword attack with a bare-knuckled punch. The elf leaned to one side to dodge the blow, then sliced his sword downward, cut shy;ting into Rhep's arm before he could withdraw it. The blade caught the inside crook of the man's elbow and dug deep. The soldier immediately fisted his hand and brought it up tight against his shoulder, closing his arm over the wound to slow the flow of blood. Grimly he kept on, though with less force now that he could only fight with one hand.
Slowly, determinedly, the elf worked the clashing blades up high. Their swords crossed overhead. Rhep managed to hook the curved guard of his sword under Elaith's blade. With a triumphant leer, he hauled upward with all his strength, trusting in his greater height to drag the weapon from the elf's grasp.
Elaith simply let go.
The soldier staggered back, too late realizing his mis shy;take. Elaith crossed his arms and pulled twin knives from the sheaths on his forearms. He advanced with the speed of a striking snake, and slashed both blades across the man's unprotected throat.
Rhep's sword clattered to the wooden floor. He sagged against the wall, his mouth working as he tried to form a final curse. Crimson bubbles formed at the corners of his lips. Will and spirit and life itself faded from his eyes, leaving nothing but hatred. The elf watched until even that dark light went out.
Elaith glanced at the fine daggers in his hand. They were Amcathra daggers, the best human-made weapons in the city. Without hesitation or regret, he hurled first one weapon and then the other into the former Ilzim shy;mer soldier.
"Let them make of that what they will," the elf mur shy;mured. He turned and melted into the shadows, pon shy;dering with great satisfaction the course this action would spawn.
Fifteen
The unlikely trio-the human bard, the half-elven fighter, and the ghostly shadow-wandered through the city for the better part of the morning. Finally Danilo called a halt on a rooftop garden, a place far above watchful eyes and visible to none but the griffon riders who circled lazily against the clouds. He hoped the leg shy;endary vision of the eagle-headed beasts was not so keen that it could discern the shadowy elf woman who stood beside Arilyn, resting on an equally shadowy sword.
"I have to find whoever killed Lilly," Danilo blurted out.
Arilyn gave him a long measuring look. She turned away, propping her elbows against the garden wall. "Have I tried to dissuade you?"
"No. No, of course not, but you must let me continue alone."
The half-elf straightened up and affixed him with a challenging gaze. "Forget it."
He shook his head and took the small, glowing sphere from its hiding place in his boot. "Don't you see? Something is disrupting magic. It has to be these dream spheres."
His eyes shifted to the far edge of the roof. Thassi shy;talia was all but gone now. Only a faint outline remained, invisible when he looked at it directly. "I've been carry shy;ing this sphere with me since the day Lilly died. As a result, the magic of your sword has been seriously dis shy;rupted."
"So are your spells. That's what happened the night of the Thann party. Oth brought some of his dream spheres to pitch them to a group of wizards and mer shy;chant lords."
"I took one from Isabeau," he added. "Yes, I under shy;stand that now."
She took a step closer. "I am more than my sword," she said firmly. "You are more than your magic."
He regarded her with a faint smile. "You've always said that there was too much magic in Waterdeep. It seems we may have the opportunity to do without it."
"Let's get to it. We'll assume that Lilly was mixed up with the bandits who ambushed the air caravan, and start there."
They worked their way across the city's rooftops toward the Gundwynd manor. As they approached, Danilo caught sight of several detachments of the Watch milling about, conspicuous in their green and black leather uniforms.
They climbed down to the street and walked up to the manor.
"No one in, no one out," announced the grim-faced woman who stood at the side gate.
"What happened here?"
The Watchwoman gave Danilo a quelling look. "Move along, sir. The Gundwynd family is not receiving visi shy;tors at present."
Danilo turned toward Arilyn, but she had disap shy;peared. He nodded politely to the Watchwoman and went on his way, circling the walled villa as he observed the placement of trees on that street. He stopped two blocks down, then sat under a stately oak.
Several moments passed before he heard a faint rustling in the branches. He glanced up as Arilyn climbed to the lowest branch and dropped lightly to the ground beside him.
"Well?" he inquired.
"One of the servants found Belinda Gundwynd, the youngest daughter, dead in the stables. She was with an elven groom, the only person of elven blood who re shy;mained in the family's employ. Seems he had a personal reason for staying around. Rumors have been circulat shy;ing about Belinda and her lover. The servants overheard the family fighting over it. They were forcing her to give him up. The family is claiming that her death was a lover's pact."
"You don't believe this."
She shot him an incredulous look. "The servants who found them said that the bodies were in the hay, not dangling from the rafters."
"Still, is that reason to conclude that the Gundwynd family is wrong?"
"It's reassuring to know that you haven't strangled anyone lately," Arilyn said dryly. "The task demands considerable strength and will. Hard to do, when you're being distracted, and I'd say that being strangled your shy;self is a bit of a distraction. They could hardly manage to kill each other and die at the same time."
"They would need a bard's timing," Danilo agreed. "So the Watch is not buying the Gundwynds' story, I take it."
"They are not hearing anything but the Gundwynds' story. The servants who told me the tale were encour shy;aged not to talk. Let's move on-there's a Watchman over there who's starting to take note of us."
As they walked, Danilo struggled to sort through this. Like Arilyn, he doubted that Belinda Gundwynd and her lover had contrived their own deaths.
Then who? The Gundwynd family, motivated by the nobility's bias against alliances with elves? If that were so, then Danilo had lived his entire life among creatures more vicious than tren.
"They eat their own," he murmured. "It's a matter of honor."
Arilyn sent him a sharp, concerned look. "Do you really think that's what happened?"