"Yet it is a wise man who will take a valuable gift, even from an enemy," the lord observed cautiously. He could hardly voice his agreement with Hasheth's harsh sentiments. For all he knew, this could be a trap, and it would not do to have the young upstart run to his father with word of Hhune's disapproval.

"The gift is given. We have no more use for this man," Hasheth continued.

"We?"

Hhune let the question hang in the air, observing his apprentice closely as the young man formulated a response. There was much in the youth's eyes that interested Hhune. Whatever Hasheth's talents might be, the prince had not yet learned to hide his emotions. There was a personal matter between him and this Harper, of that Hhune was certain.

"I am now in your service," Hasheth said, speaking with careful emphasis. "It seems to me that you would not be well served should a Harper remain within the guilds."

Well, that answered many questions, Hhune thought wryly. The palace was aware of the guilds' plot against Balik. It was even possible that young Hasheth had been placed here, in Hhune's service, to act as an informant, perhaps by the Harpers themselves. Well enough-information could flow both ways.

Hhune settled back in his chair. "I consider myself a fair judge of men. You know this Harper. You have something against him, something of a personal nature."

An image of Danilo Thann flashed into the lord's mind: a handsome blond youth, dancing at a recent party and charming the ladies of the court.

"A woman, perhaps?" Hhune concluded slyly, and was rewarded by a flash of sullen resentment in the prince's eyes. "A woman, then. And you want the rival for her affections removed."

"It is not so simple a matter. And even if it were, as your apprentice I would not act without your approval," Hasheth said stiffly.

"Ah. Let us say you have obtained it. What would you do?"

"I would hire every assassin in the guild to hunt him down with all possible haste," the young man said coldly.

"This is more than a personal matter. Any amount of gold needed to buy the death of this particular traitor would be well spent!"

But Hhune shook his head. "Wait three days," he said. "The young fool has powerful friends in Waterdeep, and there would be grave repercussions should we in Tethyr move against him too quickly. Give the ballad time to do its work before we strike. The Harpers can hardly avenge an agent who betrayed himself with a song!"

"This ballad-"

"Will be sung in every tavern in Zazesspur," Hhune finished firmly. "You may believe me when I say this." With these words, he took a large gold coin from his pocket and flipped it to his apprentice.

The young man deftly fielded the coin and studied it. The proud, stiff posture of his shoulders melted, and the eyes he lifted to Hhune's face were wide with wonder- and the dawning of true respect.

"I see that you know the marks on that coin," the lord said dryly. "And it is well that you do, for the Knights of the Shield were largely responsible for your father's rise to power. If you are to enter my service, you should also understand my position with this powerful group, and your worth to me. That coin may mark me as an agent of the Knights, but information is the true currency. With this currency, an ambitious man can purchase power. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, my lord," Hasheth agreed eagerly.

"Good. You should also understand that very little happens in these southern lands that the Knights have not planned, and by which we do not profit. It is not so in the north. This could change, if we had agents who could infiltrate the ranks of the Harpers and bring us information gathered by those northern meddlers. Could such a thing be done, do you think?"

"It can, my lord."

Hhune noted the confidence in the prince's voice, the proud, determined tilt of his chin. So there was another

Silver Shadows

Harper beside that Thann nuisance, Hhune mused, and one whom Hasheth knew. Perhaps the woman for whose affections Hasheth was willing to betray a former ally.

"She is very beautiful, this Harper?" Hhune asked casually.

"A goddess, my lord," the prince blurted out, and then bit his lip as he realized what he had revealed.

The lord chuckled. 1 care not how you amuse yourself Nor do I wish to know the name of this other Harper-not yet, at least. Do all that you can to gain her trust. Prove yourself a competent informant. In doing so, you will serve me well."

"As you wish, Lord Hhune," he agreed.

Hhune, who was in feet a rather astute judge of men, did not doubt that all would be done as agreed. He recognized the fires of ambition, and seldom had he seen them burn so brightly as they did in Hasheth's black eyes. This youth would do whatever he could to further his own cause.

The lord rose to his feet, signifying that the interview was at an end. "You will return to the city at once. My scribe, Achnib, has been instructed to teach you of my shipping affairs. Learn well. We will speak more when I return."

"Return, my lord?"

"Each summer I travel to Waterdeep to attend the midsummer fair and to receive the report of our agent there, a countrywoman, Lucia Thione, who is highly placed both in business and society."

The young man looked impressed, as Hhune had intended. The Thione family was related to the royal house of Tethyr. Few members had escaped the sword after the fall of the royal family. That one of these survivors was allied with the Knights of the Shield gave an additional luster to the secret society.

All things, including loyalty, had a price. As Hhune sent the young man on his way, there was no doubt in his mind that he was now the proud owner of a prince-

a prince who also happened to be a trusted ally of the Harpers. It was, in his estimation, a bargain well made.

The night passed slowly for Arilyn, for try as she might, she could not banish from her mind the image of the elven warrior she had seen in Assante's treasure rooms. When at last she slept, her dreams were haunted by the face of her unknown ancestor and by a chorus of Elvish voices that demanded that the dishonor done to the swordmistress be redressed. Arilyn woke before dawn with the voices still ringing in her ears and the conviction that there was more to the night vision than the promptings of her own outrage. The dream had an eldritch intensity of a sort Arilyn had not experienced in over two years.

Instinctively her eyes went to her moonblade, which lay bared and ready on her night table, within easy reach. Arilyn reached out a tentative hand to touch the sword. As she expected, a surge of restless magic jolted through her.

The Harper snatched back her tingling hand. Then, with a sigh, she reached for the weapon and slid it back into its ancient sheath. She kicked off her covers and rose, buckling on her swordbelt with practiced fingers.

Barefoot and clad only in her leggings and under tunic-and, of course, the moonblade-Arilyn walked over to the window. The city below still lay sleeping, except for those who, like herself were most likely to do business under the cover of night.

For a long time Arilyn stood at her tower window, staring at Zazesspur's rooftops with eyes that did not see, struggling to accept what she knew to be true. After a silence of more than two years, the elfehadow, the essence of the moonblade, was growing restless. Once again the spirit of the magic sword was demanding something of the half-elf who commanded it.”

The last time this had happened, twenty and more Harpers lay dead before Arilyn finally recognized the voice of the sword. She knew the cost of ignoring the moonblade's warnings, yet the sunrise colors had faded from the sky before she was able to decide upon a course of action. The morning was nearly spent before she was ready to proceed.