The man who stepped into the Copper Coronet looked a far cry from its usual denizens. Everything from his clean shaven face to the hammered gold of his belt buckle suggested that he'd be more at home in the Government or Temple District than this smoky tavern. Let the nobles make their laws and build their temples; here in the Slums, the only law was the law of the sword, gold the only god. There was a restless mutter of resentful conversation as the nobleman surveyed the room, but it soon subsided. The clientele at the Copper Coronet have long since learned to mind their business. Still, I knew that my eyes weren't the only ones that surreptitiously followed him.
The dark haired man stepped to the bar and ordered a mug of ale. As he sipped the bitter drink he spoke quietly with Hammond, the bartender. I narrowed my eyes as Hammond nodded in my direction. I did my drinking in unlit corners for a reason; I liked to be left alone. A moment later the stranger picked up his mug and moved in my direction.
"May I sit?" he asked in a low, pleasant baritone. I waved a hand in assent and he slid onto the bench across from me.
We studied each other for a moment. He was young, still in his twenties, dark eyed, broad shouldered. Pampered noble or not, there was real muscle beneath the fine clothing. He peered into the dark corner where I sat, trying to get a good look at me. Finally he asked, "What kind of person hides in shadows?"
"What brings a nobleman's son to the Copper Coronet?" I countered. "The Whore's Guild is in the Docks."
His eyes narrowed slightly, whether from my words or from the realization that he spoke with a woman, I could not tell. I leaned forward so that the dim light fell across my face. "I have nothing to hide. I ask again; why are you here?"
He paused for a long moment, presumably deciding whether or not he wished to conduct his business with a female. I drank my mead and waited. Finally he spoke. "I seek help. Yon barkeep sent me to you."
"What help do you need that cannot be obtained in the Government District?" In spite of myself, my interest was piqued.
"Six days ago my sister set out to visit our cousin Nalia's household in the forests west of Athkatla. She never arrived. This morning one of her guards returned to the city and told us that her party was attacked, and that Moira was carried off by bandits. The rest of the party was slaughtered. He died of his own wounds shortly after delivering his message."
"Your sister is dead." I said it with flat certainty.
"No!" He paused, visibly exerting control of himself. "I do not believe that. I will not believe it."
"So why does this concern me?" I asked, although I was fairly sure I already knew.
"The barkeep tells me that you are one of the best trackers in all of Amn. He also says that you make your living by quests and adventuring." His expression told me he found that difficult to believe. He must have been desperate indeed to even consider the idea. No matter. I'd disabused others of the same notion, that a woman couldn't live by the sword.
"Why should I help you?"
"Five thousand gold pieces. Plus whatever men and supplies you need. My father's resources will be at your disposal." For the first time I could see how anxious he was. "I will do anything to find her."
A generous sum, especially for one of my limited means. I considered it briefly, and then replied, "Be at the City Gate at first light tomorrow. Bring your supplies and your men. You'll be coming along?"
"Of course."
"Then bring two others. No more. We'll travel faster if there are fewer of us. And I'll have no argument about whatever companions I choose to bring."
This seemed to give him slight pause, but he replied, "Very well." His face was grim, desperate. "Dawn tomorrow then." He rose to go. "What is your name?"
"Corinne Morrow. And yours?"
"Ruarc Lochlan, son of Hugh."
I gave him a small, pitying smile. "Good day to you." He rose to leave, and I added, "Be cautious as you leave here. Those two characters in the other corner have marked you as easy prey. You'll lose more than your purse if you aren't careful."
He pulled his cloak back a little to reveal a sword with a hilt of wrapped silver. "I may not be as easy a target as they think."