“My lord knows how I love music.”
“As do I. There is always an entertainer at the Fingers.”
“That would be lovely. But is it not the case that there is a performance tonight at the Adrilankha Concert Hall?”
“That is true, madam; and yet I know that you prefer social to compositional music.”
“I enjoy both, my lord, as do you, though I’m aware of your preference for the latter. Yet—”
“Well?”
“I believe that, today, the notion of dressing in all the finery Noli can find, and even doing my nails and my jewelry, would be a particular treat.”
Khaavren smiled. “And I will dress as the Count of Whitecrest, with a blue silk cloak and a feathered cap, and you will be on my arm, and I will be the envy of all. And when I have had my fill of that pleasure—”
“Yes? What then?”
“Why, then we will pass within and treat our senses to Jengi’s ‘Symphony of the Northern Sea,’ conducted by Jengi himself.”
“I can think of nothing more pleasurable.”
“Nor can I conceive of a better way to relax before diving into a task that, I assure you, will have me as busy as I have been in some little time.”
“Let us not think of that now!”
“With this I agree.”
“But is there time?”
“The concert does not begin until the ninth hour. An hour to dress, an hour for a leisurely drive, a few minutes for a late supper at the Boiled Hen, and we will still have time to mingle.”
“Then it is a plan!”
This plan, unlike those of a military nature, in the event worked out exactly as intended. They arrived at the concert hall and entered, smiling and speaking with casual acquaintances. Khaavren, of course, noticed with great pleasure the glances, open or covert, cast on the Countess, who, according to her custom, wore Lyorn red in the form of a low-cut gown with a long train, bunched sleeves, and no shortage of lace. Her jewelry, diamond ear-rings and a ruby brooch, completed the outfit. These external features, however, paled in comparison to her wit and charm, which were on full display to anyone who joined what quickly became a large group that formed around them awaiting the bell that signaled the concert was to begin.
The bell sounded, and the massive doors were opened by servants in the blue and gold livery affected by the hall. Khaavren, Daro, the Lord Mayor, and her husband all went to the box reserved for them, relaxing into the plush velvet seats while a servant hurried to see to any refreshments they wished. Below them, the orchestra was spread out, awaiting the lowering of the lights and the arrival of the conductor.
“Do you know,” said Khaavren, “I had never before remarked upon the number of nobles who make up the orchestra. To be sure, most of the performers are of the merchants classes—Chreotha and Jhegaala—but I see a Tiassa in the horn section, and another playing the organophone; and I am certain that there are two Issola in the string section, another among the singers, and yet a fourth playing percussion.”
The Lord Mayor’s husband, a Hawklord named Cellith, said, “You are very observant, my lord. And it is true; Issola especially are often called to a musical life. Compositional music only, of course.”
“Why only compositional music?”
“Because social music would be beneath the dignity of an Issola; none of them would consider such a life, and, to be sure, the House would be outraged.”
“Well,” said Khaavren. “That would normally be interesting information. In fact, there is only one circumstance which keeps it from being of interest.”
“And what is that circumstance, my lord?” asked Cellith.
“That I have promised not to think about work until tomorrow,” said Khaavren.
Daro pressed his hand as he made this enigmatic remark, and, just at that moment, the house lights dimmed as the conductor entered, and, as nothing else that happened that evening has any bearing on our history, we will say no more about it.
CHAPTER THE FOURTH
How Khaavren Met with the
Special Tasks Group, and a
Matter That Has, Perhaps, Been
Puzzling the Reader
Is Finally Explained
The next day, Khaavren arrived at the ninth hour and rang the bell for Borteliff, who indicated with the merest inclination of his head that the captain’s instructions had been carried out.
“Then, a search has begun for the bard, Saruchka?”
Borteliff nodded.
“Has any trace of her yet been found?”
Borteliff gave a negative indication. Khaavren accepted this, dismissed Borteliff, and made certain that there was nothing that required his immediate attention. This being established, Khaavren checked the time, then went through the door that, yester-day, his friend had entered from. He followed it until at last he reached the special conference room that had been set aside for his use. Taking a position at the head of the long table, he awaited the arrival of the Special Tasks group.
Khaavren had been waiting less than five minutes when the door at the far end opened, and in came a Dragonlord with short hair and light eyebrows. Without a word, she walked to the second chair from the right on the far end, and sat down. As she was sitting, another entered, this one a Dzurlord who wore a silver band about his forehead, setting off the black of his hair; he took a seat next to the Dragonlord. Another Dragonlord arrived at about this time—an older man with a barrel chest and powerful arms; he sat next to Khaavren. Next came a man, hooded, in the colors of the Athyra; he sat on the other side of the first Dragonlord to have arrived. Last to arrive, directly on the heels of the hooded man, was yet another of the House of the Dragon, this the youngest of them, a woman who seemed to have hardly reached her four hundredth year, and who still had the clear eye and bright smile of youth. She sat at the far end of the table, at which time Khaavren said, “That is all of us; the others are away on missions.”
They nodded, and awaited his further words. As it falls out that they are waiting, we cannot see any harm in saying two words about the individuals whom we have mentioned, as some of them will play no insignificant role in the remainder of our history.
The short-haired Dragonlord was called Timmer. She had been born into the impoverished nobility, which similarity with Khaavren gave him a certain sympathy with her. Upon leaving home, she had joined Combrack’s mercenary army, and had there risen to sergeant. She sustained an injury from a poorly aimed spell at Cook’s Bluff, and so was in hospital when the army, as is well known, went missing in the Gevlin Pass. Without employment, she joined the Phoenix Guards for, as she thought, temporary duty. However, she discovered she had a talent for investigations—in particular for learning more from witnesses than the witnesses were aware that they knew. When Khaavren became aware that this talent extended to supervising investigators, the captain—that is to say, the brigadier—enlisted her in the Special Tasks group. She had, therefore, two commanders: both of them Khaavren.
The Dzurlord was called Dinaand. He had studied sorcery under Brestin, who had also trained Kosadr, who was, at present, the court wizard. While Kosadr studied arcana associated with the Orb, with a further specialty in defenses against the Jenoine, Dinaand became fascinated with the sorceries of identity and location. This was unusual for a Dzurlord—they being more the sort of studies favored by Hawklords, while a Dzur will generally prefer to specialize in the offensive and, occasionally, defensive uses of magic. When Khaavren learned that there was a Dzurlord with these skills, he—after his usual close investigation into the individual’s background—at once offered him a position which would permit him to put his training into practice; an offer that was accepted at once.