The First Lord paused and smiled. “I call upon Danilo Thann.”
This unexpected summons lifted Dan’s heart. Surely this meant that Khelben had been released from his magical sleep, for only Khelben knew all that had occurred! Then he remembered Caladorn’s knowledge of recent events, and this assumption wasn’t good enough for him.
Beside him, Morgalla stamped and hooted, drawing attention to the bard at her side. The people around burst into loud huzzahs and enthusiastic applause, and they made way for Dan to pass.
The warmth and the acclaim strangely chilled the Harper, for it could only indicate that the elfsong spell had not been entirely banished. Shouldn’t his reputation have perished along with the spell?
With Morgalla firmly pushing him from behind, Danilo made his way toward the middle of the marketplace. Seeing that he had no instrument, a beautiful, golden haired elf pressed her harp into his hands, bidding him with an inviting smile to return it whenever he wished.
As he looked at the instrument, inspiration struck Danilo, and he knew how he could ascertain Khelben’s fate. He thanked the elf woman and ascended the platform.
The Harper began to play one of his favorite melodies, and to it he sang an improvised and almost-accurate account of the adventure. Danilo kept the facts in, but he deliberately embellished the tale, adding a comic twist and a ribald suggestion or two.
From the corner of his eye, Danilo saw one of the Lords raise a hand to his helmed forehead in a gesture of exasperation that the Harper knew very well. Joy flooded the young bard’s heart, and the power of elfsong crept unbidden into his voice.
The people of Waterdeep listened to the ballad with deep attention, drawn into the music and the story in a way that, many of them said later, seemed almost magical.
Epilogue
Several days after Shieldmeet, Danilo visited Khelben at Blackstaff Tower. Although still weakened by his encounter with Garnet, the archmage insisted upon resuming his duties and sent for his nephew.
“How is he?” Dan whispered to Laeral as she showed him into Khelben’s study.
“He’s starting to get testy,” the mage replied with a long-suffering sigh. “They say that’s a good sign. They, of course, don’t have to live with him.”
Khelben motioned his nephew into the room. The archmage poured Danilo a cup of the steeped herbs he insisted upon drinking, and he seemed inclined to linger over bad tea and local gossip.
Things in Waterdeep, apparently, were looking up. The late crops were thriving. Monster attacks to the south had fallen off drastically, and small game was returning to the woods. Trouble in the harbor and fishing sites had ended.
“Most important, the ballads have returned to their original form. Our past and our traditions have been restored,” Khelben said with deep satisfaction.
“I understand Lady Thione has disappeared. How has Caladorn taken all this?” Danilo asked.
“He’s put out to sea again,” the archmage said.
“The change will do him good,” Laeral said as she came into the room. “Although your uncle doesn’t always remember this, there is a wide world outside the walls of Waterdeep.”
“Hhune is gone as well,” Khelben grumbled, ignoring his lady’s teasing. “We wouldn’t have let him go if we’d known he was responsible for what happened to Larissa.”
“The courtesan?” Danilo asked.
“That and more. Larissa is a dear friend, and one of the Lords of Waterdeep. She was brutally attacked while you were gone and has lingered near death for many days. Just yesterday, she awoke and was able to tell us who did this to her. Clerics of Sune are praying for her full recovery. In time, she should regain her health and beauty.”
Laeral nodded. “I saw her last night, and she already seems much better. She requested of the clerics to have her nose shortened slightly, if that tells you anything.”
“Sounds like Larissa,” the archmage agreed. “Texter is back in town, too. He’s been out riding for days. The peculiar thing is, he has no idea where he’s been.”
“Not usual for Texter,” Laeral noted.
“But he says he has the oddest feeling that he had a good time while he was gone.”
“Now, that is strange,” the beautiful mage said dryly. She turned to Danilo. “Texter is not one of the more fun-loving of the Lords of Waterdeep.”
“All this city gossip is fascinating,” the Harper said in a bemused tone, “but aren’t these names supposed to be a dark secret?”
“Mirt’s back, too,” Khelben said as if he hadn’t heard his nephew, “and his daughter Asper is with him. You should meet Asper, by the way. She’s our eyes and ears in Baldur’s Gate.”
“Wait a minute—she works for the Harpers?”
“I didn’t say that.” The archmage fell silent. “Now that your assignment is complete, Dan, we need to discuss the next step in your career.”
Danilo nodded and leaned forward. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you about that. I’ve been talking to Halambar, and we’re discussing the possibility of rebuilding the barding college in Waterdeep. A number of renowned bards have expressed an interest in the project As you can imagine, many are none too happy about their recent role in the city’s troubles. They wish to repay Waterdeep, and you as well, Uncle.”
“I see. And what would your role be in all this?”
“For some time to come, very little. I will help fund the college—my ballad performances are quite the rage these days—but with the Harpers’ permission I would like to devote most of my time to the study of elfsong. Perhaps when I have learned the art, I will teach it to others.”
“You did well enough the other day,” Khelben said. Despite his gruff tone, unmistakable pride shone on his face.
Danilo looked intently at the archmage. “You’ve worked with me for many years, Uncle, and you expected me to become a wizard. Tell me truly, are you disappointed that I did not chose to follow in your footsteps?”
The archmage shrugged. “What’s another wizard, more or less?”
“Really,” Danilo persisted.
“Really? All right then; I think that the only way you could follow me more closely would be to walk in my boots—while I’m wearing them. On the whole, I’m not in favor of that idea”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Danilo faltered, puzzled by his uncle’s uncharacteristic levity.
Khelben reached under his desk and took out a large, square box. “This ought to explain matters,” he said, handing it to his nephew.
Danilo lifted the lid and took out the black, veiled helm of a Lord of Waterdeep. He stared at it in silence.
“Well, try it on!”
The Harper shook his head. “I don’t want it,” he said in a hollow voice.
“Who does?” Khelben said wryly.
“But I’m not fit for the task! What do I know about governing a city?”
The archmage’s face turned serious. “More than you might think. Do you trust Elaith Craulnober?”
“Of course not,” Danilo said, looking startled by the abrupt change of topic.
“But you worked together, and effectively. The ability to form an alliance between disparate individuals and groups is a rare and important one.”
“So? Any festhall owner in Waterdeep can do as much. You’d be better seeking your spare Lord in the House of Purple Silks!”
“This is not the only reason for your induction. There’s more,” Khelben said, in the tone that signaled a lesson to come.
The Harper sighed. “There always seems to be.”
“There is an old saying, ‘Let me write a kingdom’s songs, and I care not who writes its laws.’ Of recent months we have seen how true this can be. Bardcraft and government cannot be separated, for without bards we forget our past and lack the perspective needed to evaluate our actions. Even the dark humor of Morgalla’s art grants us an important new way to judge how our decisions are perceived.”