Free Blackstaff by Steven E. Schend Page A

given how stolid his public persona appeared.
    As a female cat rubbed up against Tsarra’s ankle in the passage, Nameless tensed to jump down and pursue it. Tsarra grabbed one of his paws, mentally apologizing for interfering with his love life. The familiar growled openly at her but quickly settled down.
    They arrived at a small sitting room in the back, its furniture mostly lounging chairs and chaises. Yaereene said,
“We shan’t be disturbed here, as no staff uses this chamber for Reverie until late tonight. Its magical defenses also prevent any attacks or eavesdropping, as is your usual concern, milord. Now, will you continue to be discourteous, or will you introduce me to the young half-elf on your heels? Her familiar is certainly a handsome one.”
She chuckled and reached to touch the tressym.
    Nameless hissed loudly and flew up to the exposed beam overhead, his back was up.
    “My apologies, milady. He’s had a rough day, and he’s not very sociable right now.”
Tsarra said, careful to speak in Elvish in deference to her hostess.
“I am—”
    “Her name,” Khelben intoned in Common, a touch of irritation in his voice, “as you well know, Yaereene, is Tsarra Chaadren, and she is Malruthiia’s daughter, as she appears. We don’t have time to dredge up the past, save for this, Tsarra. Yaereene Ilbaereth is your mother’selder half-sister, and the family had a falling out with your mother well past a century ago, over what I choose not to know. Thus, your shared sylvan elf heritage brings you back together for this crisis.”
    “Don’t belittle matters you choose to ignore, Blackstaff,” Yaereene snapped back at him, “and don’t insult my hospitality by being rude. Surely you remember some manners from your elven upbringing, even if you prefer folk to assume you’re a far younger namesake. Even my half-human niece shows better etiquette.”
    Elven upbringing? But sir
—
?
Tsarra asked mentally.
    Khelben didn’t even look at her, his glower saved for Yaereene.
    “Scant few know more than a smattering of truths about me, dear lady. Do not be so blithe with entrusted secrets.” Khelben said, his whisper angry enough to stun those listening.
    Tsarra could feel his ire through the link they shared, and it seemed to spread to Nameless, who began hissing up above them and darting around, looking for something to hunt.
    “Can we all please just calm down?” Tsarra pleaded. Her head swam from Khelben’s revelation. She reclined on the nearest divan, trying not to smile as she luxuriated in its overstuffed comforts. “I am pleased to meet you, Lady Ilbaereth, but now isn’t the time for family matters. We have other issues at hand, even if milord Arunsun has not told me of them either, correct?”
    The seats were all arranged around a low table, and Khelben settled into one so all three of them could see each other while talking. They remained silent, questions lingering in the air. The only sounds were those of a moon elf maid bringing them wine and food and the tressym’s scratching and marking of the roof beams. Nameless only halted his vandalism when Tsarra tossed him a shred of silverfin.
    Khelben cleared his throat and said, “True enough. My apologies to you both. Like the tressym, the past day sitsunwell with me. I hope you too can later learn more of each other, for your family’s sake, as reunion and healing old wounds was my reason for coming here.”
    “I was not aware you and I had wounds between us, Blackstaff.” Yaereene said.
    “We do not, personally, but the debts and wounds run older than us both. I call to account the blood debts of House Maerdrym, as I need the help of the elves on matters that affect us all.”
    As Khelben spoke, he withdrew a heavy metal badge from his cloak and held it in his left palm, his right hand casting over the object. The metal badge multiplied in his hand, and with a flick of his fingers, Khelben floated one into Yaereene’s lap and eight others