Hand of Fire - Ed Greenwood [74]
Think ye we never talk to each other? I suppose ye also think the tides come not in and the sun may decide not to rise every morn? The rules of our profession are clear: Debts must be repaid in full and on time, arrears attract Palace-set rates of interest, and deliberate or hostile debtors may be flogged by the creditor, who may choose to accept double the interest owing to refrain from cracking a whip over the miscreant who owes him, or not, or seize goods in lieu – purely as he chooses!"
Paraster lifted a hand that glittered with many gemstudded rings, waved it dismissively, and said coolly, "Spit and snarl all you like, Mirt. Three facts remain unchanged for all your blustering: I've torn up my copy of our agreement, you won't dare show yours to any court or guild here or in Athkatla because the last thing you want is for me to tell any city officials what shady and outright illicit activities you've been up to that the bond directly supports and turns upon, and I'm not afraid of the private, outsidethe-law muscle you can command."
At that moment the Old Wolf's young strumpet in black leathers hastened into the office through a curtained archway that Montheir had thought led only to an alcove. Had the doxy been listening to all of this? Well, silencing her would prove but a trifling trouble and hurt the old moneylender even more keenly! She knelt before the desk, head bowed.
"Speak, lass," the Old Wolf murmured casually," then depart in all haste. Important trade matters are being discussed."
Asper looked up and gasped timidly, "If it pleases my Lord to know, the Lady Mage of Waterdeep has arrived." Her left eyelid – the one on the far side from Montheir's devouring gaze – dropped just a trifle, in a wink that let Mirt know that Laeral had been with her in the alcove, listening to all of the Athkatlan's words.
Neither she nor Mirt turned their heads so much as an inch in the wine importer's direction, but they both knew how much he'd suddenly stiffened and gone pale at the mention of Laeral and the sudden thought that she just might be Mirt's outside-the-law muscle.
Mirt stared stonily back at her and snapped, "She may approach – on her knees, mind, and begging for mercy."
"Yes, Lord," Asper breathed, bowing her head hastily. "I shall impart your will to her."
She kissed the rug before his boots and backed away from him on her knees, clear across the room to the archway and through its curtain. Once safely unseen by visiting Athkatlan swindlers, she rose with the suppleness of a snake and a wide grin on her face to find Laeral stifling a giggle.
The Lady Mage of Waterdeep gave her a quick, wordless hug and dropped to her own knees.
Pinching the inside of her nose high up with two long-nailed fingers so that tears of pain came to her eyes, she let them run artistically down her cheeks, dropped a look of despair across her face, and commenced her own long crawl through the curtain and across the gigantic snowcat fur rug.
"Mercy, Lord Mirt," she whimpered, lifting her tearstained face at about the halfway-point of her journey. "Please! You must give me more time to pay, I beg of you! Khelben sends word that he, too, will come to you on his knees if that is your wish and that you must understand that he wants me to do everything I can to please you! Everything!"
Paraster Montheir stared open-mouthed at the most powerful woman in Waterdeep crawling along on the furs with her tear-glistening face raised pleadingly to the moneylender, but Mirt barely glanced at her.
"Aye,