Carl Sargent and Marc Gascoigne.-.Earthdawn Bk5.-.Shroud of Madness by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-04T00:00:00+00:00

20

Cassian should have cleaned himself up at Mordain's house, but wanted to get out of the place as quickly as possible. Arriving back at the Rose Villa, he grabbed some clean clothes from his room and had almost made it undetected to the bathchamber when Jerenn appeared. The boy's eyes almost stood out on stalks.

"Sir, are you all right? Have you had an accident?" The lad came rushing towards him, stopping a few steps short, inadvertently blocking his way. Seeing the elf standing normally and showing neither wound nor sign of pain, Jerenn became less concerned and more curious.

"I am not harmed. There's been an accident, of sorts," the elf said.

"What has happened? Is it someone I know? Is there—"

"It will be all around town soon enough and you will doubtless hear of it from others," Cassian said. "Meanwhile, I shall want these clothes cleaned as best possible. But make sure the water used for the silks isn't too hot."

"We are always very careful about that," Jerenn said at once, still unwilling to leave without satisfying his curiosity. "But, sir, who was it? Did you see what happened? Were you there when—"

"Will you promise to go away and leave me in peace to my bath if I speak to you of it afterwards?" Cassian said wearily. "I shall have a job for you, also."

The lad looked excited, torn between satisfying curiosity now or later—not to mention the prospect of another interesting errand and a chance to earn more coin from the elf. He backed away and mumbled about anything Cassian might want.

"Just warm water, a great deal of soap, plenty of towels, and some peace," the elf replied sharply, emphasizing the last word. The boy scuttled off into the kitchens. When Cassian finally emerged after the best part of an hour scrubbing himself and then relaxing in scented warm water, he wondered whether the lad might have been waiting outside the chamber door all the while. He found Jerenn looking like an eager, excited young puppy in need of training.

"Bring some cold wine," Cassian requested. "I think I need some." While the boy rushed off to fetch the drink, the elf went quickly to his room and found his leather bag. Deftly slipping his hand into a layer of lining that would have given no sign of any recess within to an onlooker not familiar with magical concealment, he drew out a tiny vial of liquid, no bigger than a thumbnail, and flicked the tiny glass stopper into the palm of his hand. I don't want to do this to him, the elf thought, but I really can't afford to take the chance.

When Jerenn brought the flask of the excellently chilled white wine he had learned that Cassian liked, the elf poured two glasses with his back to the youth, slipping the tasteless and colorless herbal liquid into one. It was a potion for truth. Taking the other for himself, he bade the surprised boy drink with him. Looking a

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