The nobleman grinned. "Barter much, Hasheth?"
"That is generally a task for merchants and servants, but I am familiar with its principles. One begins by suggesting an impossibly high price, which is countered by an equally absurd low figure. Eventually both parties settle somewhere in the middle."
"Precisely," Danilo said. "This is what you do: you and a servant will take this man's body to the assassins' guildhall. If I understand the rules, his death earns not only the sash rank, but guild membership and a position at the School of Stealth. Demand all three. That's the high bid."
"But I did not kill him," Hasheth protested.
"This is barter, remember? What place does honesty have in making a bargain?"
A touch of humor lit the boy's eyes. "Go on."
"The guildmasters will counter with a low bid, perhaps offer to pay you this man's bloodprice. You merely sneer and toy with that priceless scarab of yours," Danilo suggested, casting a covetous glance at the boy's ring. "Then, after a suitable pause, you suggest that you might be willing to give up the position at the School of Stealth."
"The guildmasters won't be satisfied with that," Hasheth protested. "It is true that they will not willingly make a man of my years a master assassin, but if they indeed plot against my father, they cannot allow me into the guild."
"Exactly," Danilo said patiently. "Guild membership is the main issue, and most of their attention will be focused on it. When they release you from your commitment to the School of Stealth, they'll be thinking of you in terms of a potential master assassin, not a failed student."
"Go on," urged Hasheth, a crafty smile lifting the corners of his mouth.
"They'll release you from the school and make a counter-offer. Since they can't have you poking around in guild business, all they can offer is the shadow sash itself. You pretend to think it over, then casually observe that an assassin of such high rank must be allowed into the guild, so that her activities can be monitored and her fees properly tithed. Emphasize 'her' subtly."
"Ahhh." A slow, admiring smile crept across Hasheth's face. "That will befuddle them."
Danilo grinned. "That's right. You'll change the direction of negotiations abruptly, gaining an advantage through surprise. Introduce your 'servant'-that's you, Arilyn-as the woman who overcame the shadow sash. Repeat your demand for rank and guild membership for her-and imply you were speaking for Arilyn all along. Chances are they'll be so relieved to be rid of you that they'll embrace Arilyn. Figuratively speaking, my dear," Danilo assured the half-elf.
"But what of my assignment? I can hardly champion a woman I was ordered to kill," the boy pointed out.
The nobleman raised one eyebrow. "If the guildmasters bring that up, remind them that you were released from the school, and therefore, from any assignments. Barter met is bargain sealed, as they say hereabouts. You'll have gotten the better of them, and they'll probably admire you for it."
Hasheth's delighted laughter rang out over the wasteland. "You think like a southerner: devious and subtle. It would seem that I have misjudged you."
"Everyone does," Arilyn said. "That's why he's such an effective agent."
"Lord Thann is a Harper, as well?" The young man's brow furrowed as he thought this over. "A nobleman can join such a group?"
"Even a pasha's son," Arilyn said with a smile. "In time."
Hasheth nodded thoughtfully. "I might like that."
Danilo folded his arms and smiled broadly. "Then perhaps it is time for you and me to barter. Tell your father all that has happened. Tell him that Arilyn and I will seek proof that the guilds threaten his power. Ask him to hear what we say and judge for himself."
"That is your high bid?" scoffed Hasheth.
"You interrupted me too soon," the nobleman said plaintively. "I was going to ask for that ring of yours, as well."
The boy's dark eyes flashed. "That is absurd! This ring is a mark of royalty. Here is my offer: as you ask, I will deliver your warning to my father. You may not have the ring, but I will be your ears and eyes in Tethyr. From this day, I will pass to the Harpers whatever information reaches the pasha's court."
"Throw in a couple of camels, and you have a deal," Danilo offered.
"Done."
The young man concluded the bargain in such solemn fashion that neither Harper had the heart to explain that Danilo had been joking.
"Congratulations, Danilo," Arilyn murmured, struggling to keep the laughter from her voice. "We've done our duty to the Harpers and you finally got your two camels." Published for the first time in this volume.
ELMINSTER'S JEST
Mark Twain wasn't much of an opera fan. He once suggested that Wagner's music "was probably better than it sounded." The same could be said of Danilo Thann, who, at least for the first few years of his Harper career, was a far better bard than most people credited him. That's no reflection on the collective musical discernment of the good people of Faerun, for Danilo deliberately fostered his foppish, dilettante image with silly tavern tales and bawdy ballads. "Elminster's Jest" is a ballad Danilo "taught" to a singing sword, which Elaith Craulnober very reluctantly wielded in the novel Elfsong. Only part of the ballad appeared in the novel-not because of editorial censorship, but because that's all I included in the story. Here's the whole thing.
Attributed to (read, "blamed upon") Danilo Thann There was a knight who longed to wield a more impressive lance To carry into battle and to aid him with romance. A wizard overheard the knight and granted his request. The noble knight was overjoyed to see how he was blessed. CHORUS: Hey there, ho there; a lesson's here for you: Be careful what you ask for, for your wishes may come true. The knight went to a party with his weapon thus enhanced. The lance made dining difficult and tripped him when he danced. The next day at the tournament he won the jousting meets, For all who faced his fearsome lance fell laughing from their seats.
CHORUS
The knight espied a lady who admired his staff of oak. They'd scarce begun their gentle joust before the staff had broke. The knight sought out the wizard, who replied when brought to task, "Your wish bespoke how long it was, and not how long 't'would last."
Repeat Chorus if possible, run if necessary… Originally published in Realms of Infamy Edited by James Lowder, December 1994
There's quite a bit of distance between Evermeet, the island realm of Queen Amlaruil, and the Branch Davidian compound in Waco, Texas, but this story started in both places. After the debacle at Waco, I got to thinking about the fragility of an unexamined, all-encompassing world view. Some of the people who died in that fire came from a religious background very like my own. I've seen what can happen to people who were raised to think of their philosophy as Sole Truth, accept without question the "package deal" it presented. All too often, a single crack in this paradigm can bring the whole edifice down like a crystal castle. Strangely enough, many people who experience a break of this nature tend to seize upon the next all-encompassing package that comes along. And there doesn't have to be a religion on either end of the process: some people break free of super-controlling parents only to join a cult, kibbutz, or a corporation that demands eighty-hour work weeks. If the only life you know involves functioning within a strictly defined set of rules and mores, finding your own way isn't easy.