Read Online Songs & Swords 1 by Elaine Cunningham - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Elaine Cunningham
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clasped hands with the gravity of warriors, then fell laughing into a back-thumping hug.
“By Helm’s eyes, you’re a welcome sight,” swore Regnet heartily when the pair broke apart. A boyhood friend as well as Danilo’s competitor in matters of sartorial excess, Regnet scanned the dandy’s green ensemble from top to toe and drawled, “But tell me, Dan, will you turn another color as you ripen?”
The group burst into laughter. Before Danilo could respond in kind, Myrna Callahanter spoke up. “Yes, well, speaking of green, did you hear that our good friend Rhys Brossfeather was spotted entering the Smiling Siren?”
The young nobles joined in a collective smirk. A flighty and casually malicious gossip, Myrna was ever on the alert for an opening, however small, for one of her tattling tales.
“Really? I’ve heard some wonderful stories about that place,” Danilo said, grinning broadly at the thought of the shy young cleric in that notoriously bawdy tavern. “Is the entertainment there every bit as wicked as they say?”
“Well… So I’ve heard,” responded Myrna, eyes demurely downcast.
The group hooted with laughter at her evasion. “Myrna was probably on stage that night,” Regnet suggested, bringing about another chorus of mirth.
Not insulted in the least, Lady Callahanter responded with an evil grin that would have shamed a red dragon. She was always delighted to be the center of attention, and with a practiced gesture she reached up to pat her bright red hair. As she did, her outer robe fell conveniently open, revealing a translucent gown and a good deal more. Several jaws fell at the sudden display, and one guest noisily dropped his goblet.
Wearing a droll expression, Danilo leaned closer to Regnet. “Her timing rivals that of a bard, but can she sing?”
“Does it matter?” his crony responded dryly.
As were most of the guests, Myrna Callahanter was dressed to dazzle. Her blue-green gown was almost sheer, with clusters of sequins cleverly located to create an illusion of decency. The dress was cut low enough to reveal a lavish expanse of flesh. Multicolored glitter had been glued in artful patterns to the skin of her arms, throat, and impressive curves. Even her hairthe raucous scarlet hue of Calimshite hennawas elaborately woven with gems and gilded ribbons. Nothing about Myrna was subtle; she had the reputation of devouring men with the speed and appetite of trolls in a butcher shop.
Making the most of the attention, Myrna heaved a theatrical sigh. Glancing around the circle through lowered lashes, she continued her litany of gossip. “And then there’s that terrible scandal involving Jhessoba, the poor dear”
“Myrna, love, I know rumor-mongering is your family trade, but must you talk shop at a party?”
Again the young nobles grinned in unison. The speaker was Galinda Raventree. She and Myrna were sworn foes, and their catty warfare could always be counted on to liven up things.
This evening, however, Galinda had another motive for curbing Myrna’s tongue: Jhessoba’s latest misfortune had political implications, which could leadthe gods forbidto serious debate upon substantive issues. A devoted party-goer, Galinda had seen to catering this affair, and she was determined that it remain appropriately frivolous.
Danilo draped an arm around Myrna’s shoulders, coming valiantly to her defense. “Really, Galinda, you must let Myrna talk. After two months with that dreary merchant train, I for one am longing for a bit of local gossip.”
He gave Myrna a squeeze of encouragement. “Do go on.”
“My hero,” the gossip purred. She snuggled a bit closer, and one scarlet-tipped hand snaked up Danilo’s chest to toy with his emerald pendant.
Noting the familiar, predatory expression in the noblewoman’s eyes, Danilo wisely retreated. His arm came away faintly dusted with glitter, though, and he regarded his defiled garment with dismay. “I say, Myrna, you’ve got
“By Helm’s eyes, you’re a welcome sight,” swore Regnet heartily when the pair broke apart. A boyhood friend as well as Danilo’s competitor in matters of sartorial excess, Regnet scanned the dandy’s green ensemble from top to toe and drawled, “But tell me, Dan, will you turn another color as you ripen?”
The group burst into laughter. Before Danilo could respond in kind, Myrna Callahanter spoke up. “Yes, well, speaking of green, did you hear that our good friend Rhys Brossfeather was spotted entering the Smiling Siren?”
The young nobles joined in a collective smirk. A flighty and casually malicious gossip, Myrna was ever on the alert for an opening, however small, for one of her tattling tales.
“Really? I’ve heard some wonderful stories about that place,” Danilo said, grinning broadly at the thought of the shy young cleric in that notoriously bawdy tavern. “Is the entertainment there every bit as wicked as they say?”
“Well… So I’ve heard,” responded Myrna, eyes demurely downcast.
The group hooted with laughter at her evasion. “Myrna was probably on stage that night,” Regnet suggested, bringing about another chorus of mirth.
Not insulted in the least, Lady Callahanter responded with an evil grin that would have shamed a red dragon. She was always delighted to be the center of attention, and with a practiced gesture she reached up to pat her bright red hair. As she did, her outer robe fell conveniently open, revealing a translucent gown and a good deal more. Several jaws fell at the sudden display, and one guest noisily dropped his goblet.
Wearing a droll expression, Danilo leaned closer to Regnet. “Her timing rivals that of a bard, but can she sing?”
“Does it matter?” his crony responded dryly.
As were most of the guests, Myrna Callahanter was dressed to dazzle. Her blue-green gown was almost sheer, with clusters of sequins cleverly located to create an illusion of decency. The dress was cut low enough to reveal a lavish expanse of flesh. Multicolored glitter had been glued in artful patterns to the skin of her arms, throat, and impressive curves. Even her hairthe raucous scarlet hue of Calimshite hennawas elaborately woven with gems and gilded ribbons. Nothing about Myrna was subtle; she had the reputation of devouring men with the speed and appetite of trolls in a butcher shop.
Making the most of the attention, Myrna heaved a theatrical sigh. Glancing around the circle through lowered lashes, she continued her litany of gossip. “And then there’s that terrible scandal involving Jhessoba, the poor dear”
“Myrna, love, I know rumor-mongering is your family trade, but must you talk shop at a party?”
Again the young nobles grinned in unison. The speaker was Galinda Raventree. She and Myrna were sworn foes, and their catty warfare could always be counted on to liven up things.
This evening, however, Galinda had another motive for curbing Myrna’s tongue: Jhessoba’s latest misfortune had political implications, which could leadthe gods forbidto serious debate upon substantive issues. A devoted party-goer, Galinda had seen to catering this affair, and she was determined that it remain appropriately frivolous.
Danilo draped an arm around Myrna’s shoulders, coming valiantly to her defense. “Really, Galinda, you must let Myrna talk. After two months with that dreary merchant train, I for one am longing for a bit of local gossip.”
He gave Myrna a squeeze of encouragement. “Do go on.”
“My hero,” the gossip purred. She snuggled a bit closer, and one scarlet-tipped hand snaked up Danilo’s chest to toy with his emerald pendant.
Noting the familiar, predatory expression in the noblewoman’s eyes, Danilo wisely retreated. His arm came away faintly dusted with glitter, though, and he regarded his defiled garment with dismay. “I say, Myrna, you’ve got
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