Realms of Shadow - Lizz Baldwin [129]
A small fire burned in a brazier at the center of the tent. Some of the smoke escaped through a hole in the roof, while the majority swirled and eddied on air currents. The strong smell reminded Avarilous that the Bedine, in common with most desert dwellers, used camel pads for fuel. Garmansder coughed and retched then coughed again. His face was scarlet and shiny.
Around the edge of the tent were seated a row of robed figures, who stared coldly at the two strangers. Avarilous sat quietly on the floor as his captor muttered in the ear of one of these observers. Garmansder, having recovered from his coughing fit, gazed wildly around the scene.
"What are we doing here? What do they want?" he snarled to the merchant.
"Be silent." Avarilous's voice was cold and decisive, unlike his usual whining tone.
Garmansder sat in silence for a moment then made a desperate lunge for the tent entrance. Haifa dozen hands snatched him back in an instant, and a curved dagger appeared at his throat. Avarilous did not move a muscle.
One of the robed figures-he to whom then- captor had spoken-flicked back his hood, revealing a head of graying hair and dark, smoky eyes.
"Why do you come here?"
The words were dropped like rocks into a silent well. Their ripples spread outward through the tent across the ring of seated figures.
Avarilous waited a moment before replying then said calmly, "I am the merchant Avarilous of Calimport, and I am delivering goods from Loudwater to Whitehorn. This man is my companion, one Garmansder. Our route led across Anauroch, since we did not wish to detour far to the south, and-"
"Stop!"
The Bedine held up a hand.
"It is true that you are Avarilous, but we know too well the sort of goods you deliver. You are a dealer in information and stolen goods. You may have come from Loud-water, but your home is not in Calimport. Reports of your intrigues range from the passes of Icewind Dale to the jungles of Chult, from the Utter East to the Sword Coast." "Nonsense!" Garmansder snorted. "I've traveled with this man for months, and he's no more a spy than I am!"
Avarilous said nothing.
The tall man looked at him in amazement then in fury. "Bastard!"
He lunged at the merchant and was brought up short by a trio of hands that clamped him in place. He glared angrily at Avarilous and snapped, "Next time 111 know better than to take up with a fat man with a shifty eye."
The Bedine who had spoken turned to Garmansder and said, without change of tone, "You know little of your companion, it seems. He travels the lands, meddling in the affairs of people whom he does not know. He has performed commissions for the fallen Azoun of Cormyr, for the rulers of far Ulgarth, for the Red Wizards of Thay. He is a horse waiting for hire, on sale to the highest bidder. Some say Avarilous is not his real name, but none know precisely who he is."
Avarilous ignored the outburst of his companion and stroked his chin before conceding the point. "Very well. Let us suppose there is some truth to your statement. What has this to do with you?"
The Bedine shrugged. "It is of little concern to us," he said. "Your reputation is that of a man who dabbles in political intrigue for money. We have little or no interest in the affairs of the rest of the world, except when they affect the tribes."
Avarilous nodded thoughtfully. "I see. From the fact that we are here, I suppose you have something in mind. Something that affects your tribe, at least." He stretched, and Garmansder was suddenly reminded of a cat unsheathing her claws.
The Bedine leader made no response, but Avarilous nodded, as if he had received confirmation of his statement. "Perhaps you might tell me, first, with whom I have the pleasure of dealing."
The Bedine leader bent forward and said, "I am Sheik Omar Lhassa Bin-Daar, ruler of the Bin-Daar Bedine, counting two hundred and seventy-five