avoids a lot of surprises.'
'Could it be another Zhent army?' Itharr asked as they guided their horses cautiously around roots, down mossy banks, and out onto the Hillsfar road.
Storm frowned. 'Blackhelms riding openly, no. Some of our people'-they knew she meant the Harpers-'would have brought me word of any such force gathering or on the move through Sembia. Zhent agents could well have sponsored some hireswords-but on the other hand, were I an honest merchant in times as troubled as these, I'd travel in a large band with plenty of bought blades to defend me, too.' A faint smile crossed her face, and she added, 'So, as usual, we'd best be ready for anything.'
They rode in wary silence past the ancient Standing Stone, seeing the glitter of steel in the forefront of the travelers coming north toward them. It was soon evident that the front rank consisted of five hard-eyed mercenaries with ready crossbows and full armor. They came on without stopping, loading and leveling their bows as they saw the armed rangers.
At the sight of those preparations, Storm said, 'Stay well back, all of you. With magic unreliable, I can't protect you against crossbow bolts.'
Itharr made a small sound of protest, but Sylune's soft voice said, 'Heed her. Your death can be avoided this time if you act wisely, so why not avoid it?'
In the silence that followed, they watched Storm ride to meet the oncoming band.
'Stand aside, brigand,' one of the hireswords ordered shortly.
'Surrender your names and business to me, mercenary,' Storm replied calmly, unmoving. 'Stand aside, I said!'
'Is anyone in this mounted assembly of a more reasonable mind?' Storm asked mildly. 'Most travelers on these roads are well aware that the Knights of Myth Drannor patrol here; if your business is lawful, our encounter may be brief and pleasant… but an exchange of information is expected.'
A crossbow snapped, and a quarrel flew. Belkram growled and made to launch his mount forward, sword flashing out.
At his ear, Sylune said in a voice of iron, 'Stand and watch! You may even learn…'
Storm calmly plucked the crossbow bolt from her breast, examined it critically, and held it out, looking at the gaping man who'd fired it. 'Yours, I believe?'
'Who are you?' another of the mercenaries snapped, face pale and voice sharp with alarm,
'Ah,' Storm replied pleasantly, 'the words you should have spoken first. I am Storm Silverhand, Bard of Shadowdale, and am accompanying a road patrol ordered by Lord Mourngrym of Shadowdale and the Knights of Myth Drannor to keep peace on the roads in these perilous times. Again, I ask you your names and business.'
She tossed the crossbow bolt, underhanded, back to the man who'd fired it. He juggled it but dropped it to the road, and started to dismount.
'What's the delay here?' a man in rich robes called, urging his mount forward.
A man in a yellow cloak, who rode behind the mercenaries, answered, 'Some sort of road patrol asking our business.'
'Ignore them; we're in a hurry.'
'A hurry to go where, goodsir?' Storm asked quietly.
'Ride her down!' the man ordered the mercenaries curtly. Seeing one of his men out of his saddle, he shouted, 'You heard me! Get up and get on!'
'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,' 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 backlands 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 Dalelands.'
'Why?' Storm asked, 'and why now?'
'Sembia grows unsafe… without watch spells, thieves and brigands are free to loot, kidnap, and slay as they like. I gathered men whose business, like mine, can be run from any locale, and we came north to find a better place to bide until the strife be over.'
'How did you plan to find this 'better place'?'
Rethuld looked around helplessly, sweating, and said, 'S-Search, until we came upon one to our liking.'
'And what sort of place would be to your liking?'
'A stout keep or defensible manor.' The words came out of Rethuld reluctantly, as if he were fighting hard not to utter them.
