Elaine Cunningham - Elfshadow

The archmage found himself pondering Danilo's angry words. How much had he himself sacrificed on the altar of a noble cause? Even for a man who strove for self knowledge, it was a disturbing thought.

In his villa not far from Blackstaff Tower, Kymil Nimesin leaned back from his scrying crystal. His angular face showed deep concern. Perhaps he should have heeded Elaith Craulnobur's warning concerning Danilo Thann.

Even if the young nobleman was indeed the fool he appeared to be, he had led Arilyn to Khelben Arunsun. Of all those connected to the Harpers, the Blackstaff was most likely to know the secrets of Arilyn's moonblade. Since Kymil could not magically observe the half-elf in Blackstaff Tower, he had no idea what she had learned from the archmage. At least the mage had been foolish enough to mention the pair's destination outside the tower: Candlekeep. Kymil cursed. He could not spy on her there either. If his plan was to succeed, he needed to move now. Kymil turned to his assistant.

"Filauria, summon the mercenary team."

The lovely etriel at Kymil's side went without question to do his bidding. Soon she returned, leading a contingent of human adventurers from the chambers where they had awaited Kymil's summons, swilling ale and playing dice.

For a long moment, Kymil regarded the men whom Elaith Craulnobur had recommended for the task. They were led by Harvid Beornigarth, an uncouth one-eyed giant of a man. The unfortunate result of a barbarian rampage, Harvid owed his size to his father's race and his eye patch to Arilyn Moonblade. The fighter's huge arms were knotted with muscle, and he was known to wield his spike-studded mace with skill. The four men with Harvid were equally strong and unkempt, to all appearances a wild and formidable force. They were precisely what Kymil needed.

"Well, Harvid, it seems that you shall finally have the opportunity to avenge the loss of your eye," Kymil began, steepling his fingers in a gesture of satisfaction.

The man hefted his mace in anticipation. "Where is the gray wench?" he snarled.

"Let us hope your skills match your enthusiasm," Kymil said dryly. "Your chance will come before the sun rises again. Behold."

Kymil waved his fingers over the scrying crystal and an image of a garden courtyard appeared. A few people wandered about, enjoying the bright autumn morning. "This is Jester's Square. Do you know it? Good. The half-elf and her companion, Danilo Thann, will arrive here before daybreak. There are but two ways to leave the courtyard." Kymil pointed to a large gap between two buildings. "This would be the mostly likely exit. You are to block it. Use whatever you can find. You will lie in wait for them here, in this alley."

Kymil looked up at the mercenaries, his face grim. "And you will kill them both." A gasp of surprise came from the elven female who stood attentively behind the armsmaster's chair.

Harvid Beornigarth had his own doubts. He grimaced and scratched at his eye patch with a large, grimy finger.

"Is there a problem?" Kymil asked calmly.

"Well, yes," Harvid admitted. "I know young Lord Thann."

"Yes? So?"

"I don't want to kill him."

"Really," chided Kymil. "I had thought you beyond such sentiment."

"It's not personal. I just don't like messing with nobility. His family is powerful."

"Is that all." Kymil sniffed. "Believe me, the Thann family will recover from the loss. Danilo is a sixth son, a wastrel and a fool by most measures." The elf's voice hardened. "You will kill Danilo Thann. That is the price I demand for giving you Arilyn Moonblade's life."

The gleam returned to Harvid's good eye. "I'll get the gold you promised when I bring you her sword?"

"Of course," Kymil said smoothly. "Now go."

Filauria watched the mercenaries clomp from the room. "I have seen the half-elf in battle. Those men are as good as dead."

Kymil patted her hand. "Of course they are, my dear, but they are nothing if not expendable."

The etriel looked puzzled. "If Harvid Beornigarth and his men cannot kill the half-elf, why do you send them?"

"I do not want Arilyn dead. I merely wish to restore her sword to its full potential," Kymil said mildly. "Harvid Beornigarth is the means to that end. At first glance, he looks dangerous, and he and his men should give Arilyn a good fight. Bran Skorlsun will certainly come out of the shadows if his daughter's life appears to be endangered. With him comes the moonstone."

The first thing Arilyn noticed about Candlekeep was that the air was considerably warmer than that in Waterdeep. No wonder, she thought dazedly. She and Danilo had materialized several hundred miles to the south of the City of Splendors.

Before them towered the library, a massive citadel of pale gray stone that was ringed by walls and perched on a rocky seacoast. Although the setting was austere, the air, even in late autumn, was balmy, tempered by the strong breeze that blew in from the Sea of Swords.

"State your business," boomed a powerful voice. For the first time Arilyn noticed the small gatehouse that stood at the entrance to the wall ringing Candlekeep. From it came a tiny, wizened apparition of a man.

The Keeper of the Gate was stooped and thin, and his skin was as dry and yellowed as ancient parchment. The aura of power about the man, however, was such that Arilyn doubted he was ever challenged.

"We request entrance to the libraries. The archmage Khelben Arunsun of Waterdeep sent us to seek information about a magic elven weapon." Danilo handed the scroll to the keeper. The old man glanced at the sigil and nodded.

"Who might you be?"

Danilo drew himself up. "I'm the Blackstaff's apprentice," he said with a mixture of pride and becoming modesty. "Danilo Thann, accompanied by an agent of the Harpers."

Arilyn leaned close to Danilo. "Nice cover," she murmured. "Remind me never to play cards with you." The nobleman smirked.

Not noticing the exchange, the keeper broke the seal and scanned Khelben's letter of introduction. "You may enter," he said. Immediately the gate opened and a robed man came out and bowed to the keeper. "Moonblades," the old man said tersely, and the newcomer bowed again.

"I am Schoonlar," the man said, turning to Arilyn and Danilo. He was of medium height and slender build, with unremarkable features and hair, and garments the color of dust. "I will aid you with your studies. If you will follow me?"

He led them into the tower and up a narrow spiral staircase. They passed floor after floor filled with scrolls and tomes, illuminators and scribes laboriously copying rare books, and scholars delving into the accumulated lore of centuries. Located about halfway between the two largest cities on the coast, Waterdeep and Calimport, and lying directly east of the lower Moonshae Isles, Candlekeep was a repository of knowledge for all three regions: the North, the desert lands of the south, and the ancient island cultures.

Finally they reached a floor near the top of the tower. Schoonlar brought out a large tome and laid it on a reading table. "This book may be a good place to begin your search. It is a collection of tales about elven owners of moonblades. Since few bearers of these blades chose to broadcast their swords' abilities, we rely in the main upon the writings of observers."

Schoonlar turned to an index that comprised several pages in the front of the book. "To your knowledge, who was the earliest wielder of the blade in question?"

"Amnestria," Arilyn said.

Obligingly Schoonlar ran a finger down the list of names. "I'm sorry. She is not listed."

"What about Zoastria?" Danilo suggested.

The scholar's face lit up. "That name is familiar." He quickly found the passage and then scurried off in search of more information. Danilo began to read aloud.