The Stories of Elaine Cunningham

Danilo made an exaggerated show of sympathy, then took a vial from his leather bag and handed it to the boy. "A healing potion," the nobleman explained in response to Hasheth's suspicious glare.

"I have no use for your barbarian sorcery," the would-be assassin said with contempt.

"Ordinarily I'd consider that a mark in your favor," Arilyn told the boy. She eyed him sternly and ordered him to drink up. After one final suspicious glance at Danilo, the young assassin complied. The bleeding slowed, and color began to return to his face.

Arilyn folded her arms across her chest. "You've been following me since Imnescar. Why?"

"I do not know what you're talking about."

She drew the assassin's blade from her boot and held it out. "Maybe you'd like to explain why you killed that thug at the tavern."

"You speak nonsense," Hasheth said with scorn. "That is the knife I threw at you just now."

"No, it isn't," Danilo said, producing an identical knife from the bag at his waist. "I picked up your knife before I strolled over. By the way, have you any idea how close you came to skewering my horse?"

Arilyn took the knife from the mage and studied the blades. Both were carved with the School of Stealth's mark, but the weapons differed subtly in weight and balance. She flipped the knives over. The one that had killed the tavern fighter was scored with dozens of small carvings, while Hasheth's was smooth and unblemished. If the unmarked knife told a true story, the young assassin had not killed before.

The half-elf looked up at Danilo. "There are two assassins."

"Only two? Given the fees you charge for your services as a bodyguard, I would expect no fewer than seven."

She ignored him and turned to Hasheth. "Where's your partner?"

"I have none," he said. "If you met another assassin this night, what of it? Assassins are common enough around taverns."

"But knives like this are not," Arilyn persisted. "Someone from the School of Stealth wanted to keep me alive back at the tavern. Why?"

"That I cannot tell you, but I owe him a debt," Hasheth said bluntly. "If you had died at the hands of that drunken oaf, I would have been cheated of my sand-hue sash."

Danilo noted the flash of pain in Arilyn's eyes. She'd worked long and hard to rise above her dark past, only to be confronted with it time and time again. In Tethyr, members of the Assassins Guild advertised their skills with different colored sashes. To advance in rank, one had to stalk and slay an assassin of the next level. Now would-be assassins were challenging her for the right to lay claim to her dark reputation.

The Harper clasped his hands behind his back, a casual stance that disguised his nearly overwhelming impulse to throttle the lad with the sand-hue sash he coveted.

"No offense, Hasheth, but did it ever occur to you that you might have skipped over a few levels here?"

"That is absurd," Hasheth said haughtily. "The school's masters would not dare mock me in that manner."

"They wouldn't dare, eh?" A reflective look crossed Arilyn's face. "Where do you hail from, Hasheth?"

"My home is in Zazesspur, if that is what you mean."

"But you have the look of a Calishite," she noted. "Perhaps your mother was from Calimport?"

"Is this a state dinner, that we make polite conversation?" Hasheth demanded. "I am your prisoner. Kill me if you will, but don't trouble me with your woman's chatter."

"Charming lad," Danilo murmured. "Nice of him to suggest such an attractive option. Can we take him up on it?"

Arilyn shook her head. "We'll take him back to Zazesspur. Sorry, Hasheth, but you'll have to find some other way to earn your sash."

"A wise man knows when the battle is lost," the boy agreed.

Danilo regarded their captive warily, noting the sly twist to his lips and the smooth insincerity of his tone. His gaze shifted back to Arilyn. Her lovely face was inscrutable, but she was obviously up to something.

"Marvelous," he muttered, just loud enough for Arilyn's elven ears to pick up. "I've always wanted a pet adder."

She sent him a sidelong glance. "We need to keep riding. We'll be out of the forest and into the Starspire Mountains soon. That road is best traveled in the early morning hours."

Hasheth nodded. "The mountain pass is a wasteland as hot and barren as any desert. In the heat of day your northern skin would peel like that of a molting snake," he said with relish.

"Charming lad," Danilo repeated.

"Still, he's got a point," Arilyn commented. "The sun will rise within the hour. If we press on we should get through the pass before highsun."

The dandy sighed deeply. "Can't we at least stop here long enough for some breakfast? I'll cook."