She danced back out of reach and drew her sword. As the moonblade hissed free, the tren gripped the stone ledge and hauled itself out in one quick, nimble leap. The beast drew from its weapon belt a curved knife with a stout blade and an elaborate guard designed to trap and break swords.
Arilyn could imagine no better weapon for a tren. With its long arms, the creature could easily reach over a trapped or broken sword and tear out an opponent's throat with a single swipe of its claws. It was a varia shy;tion on an assassin's trick: focus attention on one threat, and strike with another.
In short, this was not the sort of battle for which Danilo was prepared. She glanced back. He had already drawn his blade and was moving into position beside her.
"Back off. This is my fight," she said. He looked dubi shy;ous, so she added by way of explanation, "Narrow street." He hesitated for a moment, then moved away to give her room to maneuver.
The unlike assassins circled each other, weapons level. The tren's knife was no longer than a dagger, but its arms were so long that its reach was nearly the equal of Arilyn's. She tested the tren with a quick, thrusting lunge, which it caught on the curved guard of its knife. Without disengaging, it pivoted hard to the side-wrenching the sword with all its considerable strength.
Elven metal shrieked in protest as the iron guard slid along the moonblade's length, then locked and twisted brutally. A lesser blade would have shattered. Arilyn spun in toward the tren, leaning in to ease the pressure on her sword.
The hooked claws of the tren's free hand slashed up to meet her, aiming for her throat. The half-elf tore her weapon free, but she was in too close to parry the blow. She lashed out with her elbow and caught the tren's massive wrist, flinging it up as she ducked under the attack.
The tren's aim was spoiled, but its claws caught and tangled in the half-elf's hair. Arilyn's head jerked sharply to the side, and burning pain exploded in her scalp. She danced back. Curly strands of her hair flowed from the tren's claws like streamers as he came in with another furious blow.
This time she got her sword up. The moonblade cut a deep line in the scaly hide of its forearm. Without pause, Arilyn changed the direction of her stroke, sweeping the sword down low and aiming for the creature's hamstring.
The tren got its knife down for the parry, catching the sword again in the curved guard. It brought up a mas shy;sive, clawed foot over the joined weapons, clearly intending to stomp on the captured sword.
Arilyn twisted away, turning the blade so that the edge greeted the tren's foot. The tren could not halt its momentum in time and roared in rage and anguish as the sharp edge sliced deep. She threw the sword up hard and high, cutting through the thick pad of scale, severing bone. A clawed toe fell to the cobblestone.
The creature again began to circle her, limping now and emitting panting little hisses of rage. Arilyn turned with it, her sword in guard position. She suspected what its next tactic might be. Sure enough, as soon as the tren had maneuvered her so that her back was to the gaping hole, it tucked in its head like a charging bull and leaped at her, massive arms outstretched in a deadly embrace.
Arilyn deftly stepped to the side and pivoted on her outer foot. Her sword slid along the ribs of the lunging creature, drawing a long deep line. She pulled the blade up high and back, and then plunged it between the beast's ribs.
Holding the sword with both hands, she braced her feet at the edge of the hole and held on for life. The sharp pull of the falling tren's weight almost tore her arms from her shoulders, and the sudden release when its body fell clear sent her staggering back.
She stumbled into Danilo's arms. It occurred to her that he had a grip on her belt-and that he had proba shy;bly seized it the moment she'd stabbed the tren.
"You shouldn't interfere during battle," she reminded him. "What if things had gone differently, and I'd pulled you down with me?"
He turned her to face him. "That would have saved me the trouble of jumping in after you."
She acknowledged this with a nod, then glanced toward the hole. "We'd better move on. Listen to that. The other tren will be finished soon."
"Finished?" His face took on a pained expression as the meaning of her words came clear to him. "You don't mean to say that these creatures eat their own?" he demanded, although the faint sounds emanating from the tunnel below made the question unnecessary.
"The price of failure," Arilyn said as she kicked into a trot. "I'd say there's at least five or six down there. Now the others will only be more determined. It's a matter of honor now. As tren reckon honor, that is."
Danilo fell in beside her. "Keen motivation! As well, one should not discount the bracing effect of a good meal."
She sent him an incredulous look, but she saw a cer shy;tain logic in his grim humor. "There's that, too," she agreed.
They ran until they reached a wide, busy street. Danilo flagged down a carriage and promised the halfling driver double his hire if he could get them to the North Ward swiftly. The halfling set a pace brisk enough to inspire angry shouts from some of the passersby.
Arilyn relaxed against the plush seat, certain that their hired driver could outrun any tren that cared to give pursuit.
Why, then, was she still beset by the conviction that she and Danilo were not alone?
Seven
After leaving Arilyn at her lodging, Danilo headed for the North Ward and the Thann family villa. For once the sedate, quiet streets did not have their usual effect on him-the familiar mixture of exasperation and ennui, and the numbing certainty that nothing particularly dangerous or entertaining could possibly occur.
It was an odd belief, one that Danilo had never iden shy;tified before. Strange, he mused, how a long-held notion could continue to color his thinking, long after he knew it to be false.
The North Ward's serenity was deceitful to one who knew the city and its long, often violent history. Danilo had been well schooled in such matters, and so the repeated tren attacks struck him as having greater por shy;tent than they might otherwise have held.
Not many generations had passed since Waterdeep had been torn by the Guild Wars. The merchant families had hired mercenary armies and fought each other in the streets. Many other nobles fell to assassins, poisons, and magic. Entire clans had been destroyed. Though this era was past, Danilo knew enough of history to understand that the pattern was not a line but a spiral. Old wounds festered, sometimes for generations. The last time tren assassins had been used in any number was during the Guild Wars. It was entirely possible that their return signified some sort of holdover from the days of the Guild Wars, the ambition of one family against another.
That was a most disturbing possibility, but if that were true, it provided a possible connection between all the tren attacks. Only one attack had been fatal-that which had killed Oth-but all the others seemed related to the Eltorchul mage. A tren attacked Elaith, who had dealings with Oth. Arilyn had assisted Elaith, thus drawing the ire of the tren clan, and she and Danilo were investigating Oth's death. Twice they had interfered. That was probably enough to add their names to the tren runes scratched in the hidden places beneath the city.
In all, it was a disturbingly plausible explanation. Danilo intended to test it against a mind other than his. Although he knew many of Waterdeep's sages and schol shy;ars, he could not name anyone who knew more of the city's history than Lady Cassandra.
The conversation ahead would no doubt prove. . interesting. In times not long past, she had been very interested in inflicting this knowledge on her youngest son. Dan supposed he had seemed the most likely to follow his mother's scholarly leanings. Somehow, he doubted that at this late date his mother would regard his sudden interest without skepticism.