Mel Odom - The Lost Library of Cormanthyr

"They took doves aboard ships because they were far more trainable," Aymric was saying.

"Not according to Dakilinan," Serellia objected.

"And, pray tell, who was this Dakilinan?"

Serellia sipped her wine. "You've heard of Lantan?"

"Dear lady," Aymric stated, "I have lived there."

Serellia looked at Baylee, who only shrugged. Lantan lay a thousand miles south of the Moonshaes and was renowned for the maroon-sailed trading ships that plied the waters in the southern seas.

"It's true." Aymric acted as if he took offense at the doubt and the lack of support. "And during that time, I've not heard of Dakilinan."

"He lived there as well," Serellia announced.

"Nowhere near me," Aymric stated.

"About a thousand years ago," the beautiful ranger went on. "He was an historian of some repute."

"There are some who don't think highly of his work," Baylee supplied.

"Did he ever write of precious metals or gems?" Aymric asked.

"Only in passing," Serellia said. "He was more concerned with peoples and countries. Particularly the sea-faring traders."

"All this has a point, I'm sure," Aymric said, "that has something to do with doves."

"Dakilinan suggested that doves were taken aboard ships only because they were far easier to spot against the emerald expanse of the Trackless Sea and the blue sky. Trainability came in as a secondary reason. Domesticated doves were kept aboard ship and freed during different parts of the day. Wind directions were charted, as were ocean currents, anything that could offer a clue about an unexplored patch of sea."

"Your historian cites the people of Lantan as a race of explorers?" Aymric inquired.

Serellia smiled and shook her head. "Never for a moment. They were a race of traders, always looking for a new trade route, new countries with which to trade. Profit has always spurred every new discovery made in our world. Ask any explorer worth her salt if that isn't so. The first thing she'll tell you about is the difficulty in securing funds for an expedition. You have to meet with such small-minded people, and the things they're willing to search for are extremely limited."

So true, Xuxa added, and chirped woefully.

'That's why," Aymric said with a sarcastic grin, "so many explorers have gone to the trouble in the past to create a treasure map that no one has ever found before."

"Not all explorers are that way," Serellia replied. "Only enough to give the rest of us a bad name. I've never created such a map, nor has Baylee, or Fannt Golsway to name others."

"But treasure maps make such a pretty story," Aymric said.

"There are some out there," the woman answered. "Particularly among people whose treasures are ill-gotten. And many of them are merely bait to bring the avaricious and curious to their doom. I've been on more than a few such expeditions myself. This is a very dangerous business. Make a mistake in one of the crypts and dungeons where all too often these treasures are kept, and you're dead."

"Or undead, as the case may be," Baylee pointed out.

"Remember our trip to the Lonely Moor two years ago?"

"Three years ago." Serellia smiled at the memory. "Even Golsway didn't think we were going to make it out of that one without becoming undead ourselves."

Aymric raised his eyebrows. "Really? Now this sounds like a tale to spend over a wine cup or five. You've not mentioned this before, Baylee."

"That's because I'm generally listening to your stories," the ranger replied.

Aymric placed a hand over his heart. "You've lanced me ignobly."

"It is a good story," Serellia agreed. "Perhaps before the concourse is over, I could tell it."

"I'd be enchanted, dear lady." The elf nodded his head graciously.

"And if you try to touch me, I'll break your arms."

Baylee laughed, knowing that Serellia meant what she said, and seeing that Aymric was realizing that as well.

Baylee… Xuxa began..

No.

"Getting back to the doves," Aymric said. "I understand why the sailors used them. Loosing them as they did, the doves circled in all directions, but returned at some point in the day when they grew tired, to be with their mates."

"Exactly," Serellia nodded. "The sailors used them as scouts. When a bird returned well fed and rested hours after it had taken off, they knew they were close to land. But Dakilinan also suggests this is why the early races view doves as a symbol of peace."

"How so?" Aymric asked.

"The early explorers only went to trade," Serellia said. The conquerors arrived later, after the way had been thoroughly mapped. The traders brought the doves, and they brought goods to trade. The would-be conquerors who went to rape and pillage didn't."

"And this is what Dakilinan bases his theory on?" Aymric asked.

"It is as good as any other reason for why doves are so revered among so many cultures."

Aymric shifted his gaze between Baylee and Serellia. "How is it you two know each other? Through your various adventuring?"

Baylee tried to signal to the elven ranger to stop his question, but Aymric either missed it or paid it no heed.

Serellia sat back in her chair, her demeanor losing some of the cheer she'd possessed. "I was a student of Golsway's before Baylee."

That's why it could never work, Baylee chided Xuxa. In truth, Serellia had been Golsway's first chosen, the best and the brightest of the pupils he sometimes apprenticed in order to ferret out a new associate for his expeditions. In the end, the old mage had selected Baylee over Serellia, but no explanations were offered. The event had left both of them wondering. Though Serellia apparently had no ill will toward either Golsway or Baylee, the ranger recognized that both of them were uncomfortable with the situation.

"I see." Aymric stroked his chin, obviously knowing there was more to the story. "Would you care to see some of the birds I brought for show at the concourse?"

A wave of relief washed through Baylee. He drained the dregs of his wine cup as Serellia asked the elf about the birds.

"Baylee."

The ranger looked up and spotted old Karg the Thunderer approaching.

Karg was a massive man, shoulders a full axe handle and more across. His arms were as thick as most men's thighs, and his thighs were strong enough to lift a table often men over his head. Baylee had also seen him crush small rocks in his callused bare hands, dropping nuggets and dust to the ground. The head of a huge, double-bitted dwarven axe poked up over his shoulders, incredibly nearly as wide across as his shoulders.

"Well met, Karg," Baylee called. "And how are you?"

The big man's face split into a grin. "There's a few less stone giants roving these lands than there were last year, thank the Lady. I trust you've had an eventful year."

"I've had better," Baylee replied, curious about why Karg would seek him out. Usually they only talked in groups. Giant killers were notorious boasters, and at best only made good company for a limited time.

"Have you been to Waterdeep lately?" Karg peered back across the concourse.

"Not in months."

"Did you leave trouble there?"

Even more curious now, Baylee asked, "What's wrong, Karg?"

"Interlopers," the giant killer snorted. "We end up getting a few of them every year. Usually give 'em the bum's rush if they start interfering with the festivities. Most of them pretend to be rangers, but they've never really had the calling. Or the talent. But we've a group here now that's downright interesting."

"Why?" Baylee asked.

"You know Tryklyss?" Karg asked.

"Known as the Quick-Handed," Aymric said.

"The very same." Karg nodded without enthusiasm. "Of course, he doesn't do any stealing here, but after some of us got suspicious about this new group, we found Tryklyss and suggested he take a peek in their things."