Hand of Fire - Ed Greenwood [58]
"I'm in haste," Sharantyr said warningly, not slowing her slow but steady walk, "and shan't suffer any delay. Please stand aside."
"Shan't you, now?" another of the brigands laughed, as his fellows snorted and guffawed.
"I thank you for your generous and courteous warning, lady fair," the tallest outlaw told Sharantyr mockingly. "But I fear we must insist you tarry with us – detained, you might say, at our pleasure."
Sharantyr sighed, drew her blade, and broke a gem across its keen edge. "Then it must be swords between us," she warned.
There was another chorus of laughter and snorts of mirth – wrapped around loud groans of mock sorrow, this time. They waved their own swords at her and took a step forward in unison.
"Don't slay her outright," the leader said. " 'Twill be far less fun with a corpse!"
Sharantyr gave him a wintry smile. "My thoughts exactly," she replied. "Wherefore I'd prefer to spare you. Live to fight another day, sirs. You stand in peril of death if you attack me."
"We'll be the judge of that," the tallest brigand sneered. "You're not the only one running around Faerun with a little magic, you know."
He nodded to his fellows, and they all muttered something, more or less in unison. Shandril let fall Flamewind's reins and took a step or two away, in case some fell magic should smite her weary mount whilst rebounding from her own protective enchantments.
The brigands' blades were suddenly alive with blue fire – arcs of tiny flames that leaped hungrily back and forth from blade to blade. They grinned at her from behind their risen, crawling magic, fanned out so as to imperil her far to her left and her right as well as straight ahead, steel to steel. They came at her in a rush, sparks flashing among the blue fire of their swords.
10: Small Secrets, Large Swords
There's nothing like a sharp sword for opening men and letting their secrets run out.
Alusair Nacacia Obarskyr
Why I Ride Men And Not Thrones
Year of the Bow
Malivur let fall his wagon-flap disgustedly. "Still searching – while we sit here within easy reach of whoever sworded us last night!"
"We'll be older, so much is certain, before we see Waterdeep," Krostal agreed calmly, running his fingers through his ginger beard as his dark-robed partner stormed past like a fuming thundercloud, striding down the wagon to the decanters one more time.
The low-pitched clink of the stopper told him it was the fire-sweet green alanthe from Sheirtalar that was suffering depredations this time. Good; he hated the stuff – too sweet, and yet as tart as the yhaumarind they ate bowlsful of in the Tashalar. Brrrhh.
"What is this Voldovan thinking?" the spicemerchant burst out, waving a goblet that was half empty already. "He's supposed to be the best of masters on this run, not an ox-headed idiot!"
"I'm sure he is, and doing whatever seems most wise to him," Krostal said soothingly.
"I'm sure he's a wind-roaring tyrant, a lying, cheating whoreson rogue, and a – a treacherous fiend in league with too many brigands for us all to fight!
Why else call a halt in the Blackrocks but to leave us undefended while the wolves gather dozens deep around us? Why – "
"Why storm and roar so?" Krostal asked mildly.
"He'll only hear us and set his dogs to listening at our flaps… and who knows what they might hear before you master your temper?"
"Temper? Temper! I'll show you temper, you gutterborn sneaking slybeard! Why – "
"Why, I wonder how 'tis I endure your slow-witted foolery, these stretching days!" Krostal said quickly, saying Malivur's next words half a syllable ahead of his wagon-partner.
Who fell silent, glaring at him down the length of the wagon with eyes that promised swift death in their green glitter. For a moment, Krostal could have sworn the goblet beneath them shone back that fell green glow… then the dark-robed wizard lifted the goblet, drained it in menacing silence, and snarled softly, as he strode forward like a stalking cat, "Have a care, gutter-thief. I can destroy you at will and hear no word of protest from our superiors for doing so.