Free Shadow's Witness by Paul Kemp

the shawm. Thamalon had imported the musicians all the way from Daerlun for the celebration. The unusual combination of strings, woodwinds, and subtle percussion was an innovation from Cormyr that had found popularity in the neighboring cities of Sembia. Cale listened to the quartet for the first time and found that he rather enjoyed the sound. The gentle tones of the instruments and the low murmur of the assembled guests combined to create a sleepy, melodic drone. He allowed himself to drift peacefully on the chords as he continued his search for Thazienne.
    He finally spotted her standing near the wall, to the right of the musicians’ dais, and she stole his breath. The music and crowd noise fell away. He heard only his heartbeat, be saw only her, and she glittered like a jewel.
    Dressed in a jade gown laced with silver thread and a bejeweled silver stomacher, her beauty outshone that of the other women in attendance the way silver
    Selune outshone the glowing tears that trailed her orbit through the night sky. A crowd of noble sons surrounded her, talking, smiling, eager to impress.
    Even from this distance, Gate recognized the frustrated set of her strong jaw. She hated noble fops and dress balls even more than he, but her mother had insisted she attend. As he watched, she smiled halfheartedly at a young noble’s joke and glanced about as though seeking an excuse to escape. Their eyes met. She gave him a quick wave and smiled at him—a smile of genuine happiness. The men around her turned to shoot him envious glares. He bit back bis jealousy, returned her wave, and smiled softly in return.
    He dared not watch her too long for fear that his feelings would become plain on his face. Shooting her a final longing glance, he returned to his business and tried to locate the rest of the Uskevren family in the hall.
    Lady Shamur, glamorous as always hi a long sleeved blue gown with a gold stomacher, sat nearby in lighthearted conversation with Dolera and Meena Foxmantle. To Gale’s perceptive eyes, she looked scarcely more comfortable than her daughter—her smiles seemed forced and her slim body looked coiled—but she masked her feelings well. Dutifully, Gale walked over and refreshed the three ladies’ wine glasses.
    Thank you, Erevis,” said Shamur. She flashed a grateful smile for the interruption and the severity that usually masked her finely chiseled features fell away for a moment. In that instant, Gale caught a rare glimpse of his ladyship’s sophisticated beauty. Small wonder that Thazienne had turned out as gorgeous as she had; they could have been sisters.
    “Do you require anything else, Lady?”
    “No, Erevis. That will be all.”
    He bowed, first to Shamur, then to the Foxmantles. “Lady. Ladies.”
    “My,” observed Dolera in her singsong voice as he walked away. “He is so very tall.”
    Gale hurried off without looking back. He would be hard-pressed to keep the impatience out of his voice if the empty-headed Dolera Foxmantle spoke to him. No wonder Lady Uskevren has to force her smiles, he thought with an inner grin.
    He spotted Tamlin near the double doors that led to the forehall. The Uskevren heir stood with a half-empty wine bottle in his hand, a smile on his handsome face, and a crowd of young men and women clustered around him. Mostly women, Gale saw. At the edge of that sea of chattering femininity stood Tamlin’s huge bodyguard, Vox, watchful and alert as always. The big man’s crossed arms rippled with muscle, and even without weapons in evidence he radiated dangerous-ness. Gale watched Tamlin throw back his head in laughter and sprinkle the floor with wine. He frowned at Tamlin’s carelessness.
    While Gale envied Tamlin’s easy grace with women, he despised the young man’s lack of discipline. As he saw it, the sole weakness of the household was the Uskevren hen*. Tamlin lacked maturity, lacked judgment, and worst of all, lacked focus. He stuck his hands in whatever took his fancy from