Элейн Каннингем - Elfshadow

A bubble of laughter welled up in Arilyn, but she held it under control. “I never actually belonged to the Assassin’s Guild.”

“You see? There’s yet another motive. They want to collect their back guild fees out of your estate.”

Arilyn finally succumbed to a chuckle. “I’m not sure the Assassin’s Guild would want to claim me as a member.”

“Really. There is a tale here, perhaps?”

She shrugged. “Not really. Very early in my career, ‘assassin’ became a sort of nickname. If someone crossed swords with me, they died,” she said simply, in answer to Danilo’s inquiring look.

“Hmmm. I’ll bear that in mind. And then?”

“The name stuck. In time I was truly considered an assassin, and I began to think of myself as one, albeit an honorable assassin. For years I was an independent adventurer, hired to fight and therefore to kill.”

“That sounds like an assassin to me,” Danilo murmured.

“Yes, but never did I fight one who was unarmed, never did I shed innocent blood.”

“You know that for a fact, do you? It must be nice to be so confident of one’s judgment,” he said, a little wistfully.

“For good or ill, I do not have to rely upon my judgment,” she said. Even to her own ears, her voice sounded a little bitter. She lay her hand on the sword at her side. “The sword I carry cannot shed innocent blood. It will not. I learned that while I was little more than a child, training at the Academy of Arms. One of the older students, Tintagel Ni’Tessine, used to taunt me about my race. I lost my temper one day and drew on him.”

“What happened?” Danilo encouraged her.

A small smile tightened Arilyn’s lips. “My sword arm went numb, and the moonblade dropped from my hand. Tintagel took the opportunity to beat me senseless.”

“That’s terrible!”

She shrugged. “It happens.”

“That’s hardly an innocent man’s behavior,” Danilo said heatedly. “I had not realized there was such prejudice against elves.”

Arilyn looked at him strangely. “Tintagel Ni’Tessine is an elf.”

“Wait a minute.” Danilo held up one hand, and he appeared to be thoroughly puzzled. “Did I miss something?”

“He’s a gold elf. I’m a moon elf, and a half-elf at that,” she admitted grudgingly. “You didn’t know that there are several races of elves?”

“Well, yes. I’ve just never realized that there might be significant differences.”

That remark, so typical from humans, jolted Arilyn. “Why am I not surprised?” she said so harshly that Danilo blinked in surprise.

Her hostage could not know that her manner covered her own chagrin. When was the last time she had chattered like such a magpie? Had she ever told anyone about that incident with Tintagel? Or admitted even to herself that she sometimes felt belittled by the power of her own sword? Damn it, something about the young man seemed to break down the defenses of her natural reserve, and she resented him for it.

Danilo, however, did not seem to be put out by her abrupt change of mood. “You share my passion for fine gems, I see.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

With a smug little smile, he pointed to her sword. “That stone in the hilt. It’s a topaz, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so. Why?”

“Oh, I’m just curious. The sword itself looks quite old, but the stone is cut in a modern fashion.”

Arilyn gaped at him for a moment. “That’s a remarkable observation.”

“Not at all,” he disclaimed modestly. “As I mentioned, I have a passion for precious stones, and I know a few things about them. See the way the tiny facets curl around the base of the gem, leading up like a honeycomb to a large flat surface? That style started becoming popular only about, say, fifty years ago.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that,” she said. “But you’re right: the stone is fairly new.” “The original was lost, I take it? What kind of stone was it?”

“A moonstone.”

“Semi-precious white stone, often flecked with blue. Natural conduits for magic,” Danilo recited in a learned tone. “Why was it replaced with a topaz?”

Arilyn shrugged. “When I started training, my teacher had the new stone made to balance the hilt.”

“Not many teachers give that much attention to detail … or to their students for that matter.” He grinned. “Mine generally tried to avoid me as much as they could. You must have been fortunate in your choice of teacher.”

“I was,” Arilyn said warmly. “To study with Kymil Nimesin was a great opportunity, and—” She broke off suddenly.

“And?”

Arilyn just shrugged. Damn it all, she thought angrily, I’m doing it again. This man would have her life history from her before she could be rid of him.

Most distressing to her was the inexplicable tug of camaraderie, the tiny seedling of friendship that was growing between her and this stranger—this shallow, foolish, overdressed human. Like a talisman, she deliberately brought to mind an image of Rafe Silverspur. The reminder of what could happen to those close to her strengthened her resolve to keep herself firmly apart.

Again Danilo Thann’s cheerful voice broke into her thoughts. “You know, I just realized that you never told me your name. What was it that the comical barbarian in the inn called you? Arilyn, wasn’t it? Arilyn Moonsinger. No, that’s not quite right. Moonblade. Yes, that’s it!”

Arilyn rose and kicked the bright embers of Danilo’s fire into ash. “Get some sleep,” she said curtly, keeping her back to the man. “We leave before daybreak.”

Arilyn shook her hostage awake while it was still dark.

“Whazzat?” Danilo sat up abruptly, staring bleary-eyed into the grim face of the half-elf until his vision focused. “Oh. Hello there. I suppose it’s time for my watch?”

“Time to leave,” she said flatly.

“Oh. If you say so.” Danilo struggled to his feet and stretched, shifting this way and that and wincing as he worked out some stiff spots. “Where are we going?”

“Waterdeep.”

“Oh, marvelous,” he said, brightening. “We can probably catch up with one of the merchant trains within a few days and—”

“No,” she broke in quietly.

“No?” Danilo looked puzzled, stopping in mid-stretch. “Whyever not?”

Arilyn explained with the patience usually afforded a rather slow child. “A very skillful tracker has been following me. I was headed west when he lost me. I’m assuming he knows my routes and habits well enough to consider Waterdeep my logical destination. He is likely to take the most common route, the trade route. If we were to travel with a merchant train, he could easily catch up.”

“Ah. Never overlook the obvious,” Danilo commented, nodding sagely.

“Something like that,” Arilyn admitted. “So we’ll take the northern route.”

The dandy shook his head and sputtered in disbelief, “Surely you jest. The northern route? As in, troll country? I’ll have you know I detest trolls. Utterly.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll skirt the High Moors.”

“No trolls?”

“No trolls.” Danilo still looked distressed, so Arilyn elaborated. “It’s riskier than the southern trade route, but we’ll get to Waterdeep faster. Also, we pass through open country. If my guess is wrong and someone is still trying to track us, we’ll see them as soon as they see us.” She thought it best not to tell the nervous dandy that she would actually prefer such a confrontation, and she paused before dropping the other boot. “And another thing. We’ll save more time if we cut through the bottom lip of the marsh.”

Danilo caught his breath and held up both hands in a gesture of protest. “The marsh? We’re talking about the Marsh of Chelimber, I assume? We are. Well, no thank you. I think I’ll just take my horse and head south, if it’s all the same to you.”