All Shadows Fled - Ed Greenwood [85]
"Lord," one of the mercenaries said, "this w-"
"I'll hear none of it! Onward!"
"Hireswords," Storm asked quietly, "is this most audible man your master?"
A smile flickered on more than one face along the line of armored warriors before one said, "Aye, Lady. Rethuld of Saerloon."
"Thank you, good warrior," Storm said politely. She raised her voice. "Rethuld! I would speak with you!"
"But 7," the man spat contemptuously, "would not speak with you! Anyone blocking the high road is a brigand, and I slay brigands, not bandy words with them!"
"By the treaty of the Stone in whose shadow we stand," Storm said quietly, "any dale lord is empowered to send patrols out on the roads-and all travelers on the road are bound to obey such patrols and surrender to their queries and examinations."
"That treaty is centuries old! We pay no attention to it in Sembia!"
"Old it may be," Storm replied calmly, "but I was there at its making, and I was also present not so long ago as all that, when the young land of Sembia in turn signed it to gain trade access to the Moonsea North and grow to its present wealth. You would do well to pay continued attention to it if you are a merchant of Sembia. Treaties ignored may be revoked-and with the roads closed, what are the prospects for your wealth then?"
"You said the dales were unprotected," the man in the yellow cloak said to Rethuld, frowning. "You said we'd be able to-"
"Silence! I am not prepared to discuss our private business dealings on the high road! We can speak of this later-if there is to be a later for you, Jasten!"
"I think," Storm said quietly, "this has gone far enough. I've no wish to see blood spilled this day, so I think we'll have a little truth here." She made a gesture.
Another crossbow bolt hummed past her, but missed, and Storm completed her spell. She looked slowly around at the row of mercenaries and the half a dozen merchants crowded behind them. There were wagons beyond, with a dozen or more additional mercenaries flanking them… and presumably a rearguard. "If there's no harmful intent in this man's replies, you'll all be free to proceed-but I will look unfavorably on men who try to slip past me, or offer violence to me, before I am done. That means you, sir, trying to stay unseen in the trees… come out where I can see you!"
A man shouldered sullenly out through the brush, astonishment on his face and a sword in his hand. "Who-what are you, Lady?" he demanded.
"I am Storm Silverhand. Do you believe nothing in Sembia of the tales of Those Who Harp, or of the Seven Sisters? Or do you dismiss them as idle fancies and turn back to the hard, grasping work of stacking coins ever higher?"
"Minstrels tell many wild tales of the barbaric back-lands of Faerun," a fat merchant snapped from behind the line of mercenaries. "If we believed them all, we'd not dare leave our bedchambers for fear of flying dragons and dark elves in the streets and Red Wizards behind every tree!"
"Tell me," Storm asked, widening her eyes, "is your bedchamber tastefully furnished?"
"What?"
"If, as you say, you spend so much time there…"
There were chuckles from the men around, and the fat merchant sputtered in anger. "I-kill her!"
"Lord," one of the mercenaries replied, not turning to take his eyes off Storm, "I don't think that's possible. Not for us. Let's just hear her out, and-gods willing- we can proceed."
Storm gave him a dazzling smile. "Thank you, good-sir. It is always a pleasure to know one is in the presence of patience and good sense."
Then she turned to Rethuld, who sat silent and pale, beads of sweat suddenly thick on his forehead, and said gently, "While my spell lasts, you will be able to answer direct questions only with the truth. I ask you now: for what purpose was this band formed?"
Rethuld licked his lips, and his face contorted for an instant before he said, "To gain property in the Dale-lands."
"Why?" Storm asked, "and why now?"
"Sembia