Free Murder in Halruaa by Richard Meyers Page A

aback.
    Pryce took a moment to study the fellow carefully. He was wearing a dark, soft, comfortable-looking shirt that cinched loosely at his neck and wrists. Matching loose pants of some similar soft fiber cinched more tightly at his ankles. Over the shirt was a long vest with three pockets on each side, the top left one displaying the stitched legend Gheevy Wotfirr and under that.Af Your Service.
    “Well, Gheevy,” Pryce said affably, “everyone else in this town—including its official gatekeeper, a top-ranked inquisitrix, the owner of its most popular gathering place, and the daughter of the man’s own teacher!—have never laid eyes on this Blade person, but apparently you have.”
    “Well, everybody knows me,” the halfling said.
    “Did Darlington Blade drink with you in the privacy of this grotto? Because no one upstairs seems to have seen him.”
    “No,” the halfling began hastily. “You see, I deliver wine all over the area. That’s how everyone knows me. And I—I used to make some deliveries to a predetermined place outside the wall for Geerling Ambersong and—”
    “Don’t say it,” Pryce implored. “Let me guess … the person I’m not”
    Wotfirr nodded.
    “So,” Pryce continued wearily, “did you all sing songs around the campfire?”
    “Now, now,” chided Gheevy Wotfirr. “There’s no need for sarcasm, my good man. Geerling Ambersong wanted Darlington
    Blade’s identity to be kept a strict secret until he personally presented him to the Lallor citizenry at the Fall Festival. My seeing him was a complete accident. I only caught a glimpse of him through some trees.” The halfling shook his head sadly. “And ever since that moment, I’ve wished I hadn’t.”
    “Me, too,” said Pryce dryly. “Why the Fall Festival? What’s the big secret?”
    “Oh,” Wotfirr said with renewed spirit. “Mage Ambersong had a sincere desire to improve the lot of the people of Halruaa. But he was getting older, and he wanted his successor to be ready… and undistracted by the entreaties of many in Lallor who would seek favor with a new primary mage.”
    “Hmmm,” Covington considered. “And with his identity a secret, he could travel without attracting undue attention … as long as he removed this blasted cloak, of course!”
    “Mage Ambersong showed the cloak to the people at last year’s Fall Festival,” Wotfirr explained. ” ‘By this cloak you will know him,’ he said.”
    “Just my luck,” Pryce said miserably. “I assure you, Gheevy, that I came into possession of this cloak completely by accident and was totally innocent of any malice aforethought. If I had known what it meant and what it represented, I never would have touched it, but it was windy and wet and cold, and, well…” Covington let his words trail off into silence.
    “If it’s any help,” the grotto manager said quietly, “I believe you. But who are you?”
    Pryce glanced at the earnest halfling. ‘Trust me, the name would be meaningless to you … just a bunch of syllables you would be better off not knowing. Or, to put it more truthfully, would be better off if you didn’t know. For the shortest time it takes to figure out a way out of this, please just call me anything but Darlington Blade.”p>
    “Very well… friend… I understand. But what are you going to do now?”
    “Well,” Pryce said briskly, standing up and brushing off his trousers, “The way I see it, there’s nothing to do but cut my losses, try to prevent any more trouble, and go back where I came from, never to be seen in these parts again.”
    “But—but you can’t!” Gheevy blurted suddenly.
    Pryce looked at the halfling askew. “Why not? I grant you, the eye at the gate might be a problem, but—”
    “No, you can’t just leave now!”
    “Oh, but I can, my dear Gheevy,” Covington said patiently. “That is, if you’ll be kind enough not to say anything.”
    “No,” the halfling said, agitated. “It’s not me. It’s you.