Mel Odom - The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

“Tell me about last night," the senior civilar suggested. "You prepared the eveningfeast before you left. What time did you leave?"

"Just after moonrise," she answered.

"I'm told that was later than usual."

"Yes." She nodded. "I prepared my own eveningfeast for my children earlier, then came back to prepare the master's. He was entertaining, you see."

"I understand that was a rare occasion."

"True."

"Who was he entertaining?" Closl asked. There was still the body in the drawing room burned beyond recognition to be explained, though the senior civilar had some ideas.

"Thonsyl Keraqt, the merchant."

"Do you know what business he had with Golsway?"

"No. The master had his business, and I never pried into it."

Closl talked for a while longer, going over the evening until he was sure he had everything the woman knew. There were no clues, nothing to suggest who had killed the men. After only a little while longer, he released her from his questioning.

She was almost to the door leading back into the house when he called for her attention.

"What can you tell me about Baylee Arnvold, dame?" he asked.

"Only that he would never have anything to do with this," she replied without hesitation. "If that's what you're thinking."

"It's been brought to my attention that there was a falling out between them in the past year."

'Ten months ago," the woman replied, her eyes sparking fire.

"And I would like to know whose tongue has been wagging so loosely."

"I'm afraid I can't reveal that. Those who talk to me have my confidence."

"Then please take a message back to that person for me that they should respectfully find some other way to spend their time than passing on idle gossip."

"I'll consider that, should the information prove false or misleading."

"The falling out you refer to," the woman explained, "was nothing more than a boy growing to manhood, despite his father's best wishes."

Closl studied the woman. "I'd never heard that Baylee was the old mage's son."

"He wasn't, by blood," Dame Qhyst replied, "but in every other way that mattered, that was their relationship. Even the master didn't see it till months after Baylee had left this house. And a sad awakening it was, too, because by then the master had let too much time pass to be comfortable patching the rift between them himself. And Baylee, you can be sure, is on the prideful side himself. Youth can be such a detriment."

"How well do you know this young man?" Closl asked. "Well enough that you are asking me questions about him, Senior Civilar Closl. If you didn't trust my answers, you should not have asked."

Closl laid an apologetic hand over his heart and bowed his head. "Forgive me, Dame Qhyst, for I meant no offense. Of course you are right."

"If I can be of any further help, please let me know." She turned and nearly ran over the man standing suddenly and quietly in the doorway. "Oh, excuse me, Lord Piergeiron! I didn't know you were there!" She backed away hurriedly and curtsied very low.

Closl straightened his own stance, coming instantly to attention.

"My fault, dame," the Commander of the Watch of Waterdeep said. "I should have spoken up. Please continue on your way and know that no ill favor on my part has been garnered."

The woman curtsied again, excusing herself, and disappeared into the house.

Piergeiron Paladinson strode into the garden, looking striking in his watch armor and colors. He was tall and graceful, much as his father had been. He gazed about the garden, then looked at his senior civilar. "This is a right and proper muddle of affairs."

"Yes sir," Closl responded, feeling like the whole arrangement had suddenly gotten many times worse than he thought it was going to be if Piergeiron himself was going to get involved in the murder investigation.

"Do we have any ideas about who did this?"

"Someone quite capable in the field of spell-casting, or someone armed with a magical weapon of some force."

Piergeiron shook his head. "I knew that from the moment I found out it was Golsway who was killed. I knew that man as one of my teachers, as hard a taskmaster as a man would ever want to meet."

"There's not much else, sir," Closl said. "Golsway didn't have much in the way of friends."

There was always Keraqt," the warden said. "Though I never knew what Golsway liked about the old pirate."

"Sir, Keraqt was the other victim."

Piergeiron looked surprised. "Well, rest his soul in peace then. If not friends, what of enemies?"

"Someone who could do this?"

"You'll be working from a short list, then."

Closl knew he wasn't being let off the hook. The people you're suggesting, sir, well, we'll be trampling on some blue blood toes to get the answers we're looking for."

"I know, and you'll ask those questions on my order. If there are any who give you trouble, tell them I'll free up my schedule to question them myself. I will have the answers for this." Piergeiron looked out over the city. "Waterdeep stays with constant rumors and outright lies crossing her from one end to the other every day. I'll not have this help feed the grist for that if I can help it."

Closl said nothing, but he knew even the answers they found would only create more half-truths in their wake. "Yes sir. If I may, I'd like to suggest another route in this investigation."

Piergeiron looked at his senior civilar.

"Baylee Arnvold," Closl said. "I would send a watch team to find him."

"Would you know where to look? He's been gone from this city for months."

"I think I might. Baylee is a ranger. I've a nephew who is a ranger. Young Varin has regaled us from time to time with tales of for gatherings. Festivals of a sort where rangers meet to discuss their trade and sharpen their skills. In a few days hence, the Glass Eye Concourse, one of the biggest of such meetings, is going to be held. It's possible that Baylee will be there, or at least someone who knows him."

"You want to send a watch team from Waterdeep there?"

"With your permission."

Piergeiron stroked his chin as he considered the option. After a moment, he nodded. "Make it so, senior civilar. Whatever aid you need from me, consider it done."

"Thank you, sir."

"And let me know what your people turn up."

"Of course. You'll be the next man to know after me." Closl watched as the lord walked away, deep in thought. The watch senior civilar sighed heavily, looking back at the house. He knew what Piergeiron's deepest fear was even though the noble had not spoke of it: that Golsway's death really was part of one of the many plots that began every day in Waterdeep instead of a separate act.

The senior civilar shook his head, imagining the power that had run rampant inside the house. And as skilled as the murderer or murderers were, he feared for any man that tried to take them in for the crime.

Krystarn Fellhammer stared angrily into the darkness that stretched ahead of her. The underground passage twisted and turned and fell away down into the earth. The smell of decay filled the thick air around her. She kept her morning star in her fist. The battle with Fannt Golsway had left her more drained than she would have liked to admit.

She peered down over the crest of the hill she stepped out onto. She thought she knew where she was, but the chain of caverns was huge. If she was at the location she thought, she had more than an hour's walk ahead of her. The teleport spell on the gem she'd been given had not worked as completely as she'd been told it would, or Shallowsoul had deliberately lied to her about where she would return in the subterranean lairs.

Having been raised in Menzoberranzan for the first forty-three years of her life, where a dozen acts of treachery could be committed before morningfeast-sometimes within her own family- being lied to came as no surprise. It only meant that even with the recent turn of events she hadn't maneuvered herself into the bargaining position she'd planned to with Shallowsoul.