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.""No," Hlael Toraunt said thoughtfully, eyeing Korthauvar."No, 'twould not do at all.""A small step shy of thievery," Thoadrin growled, almostperfunctorily.In truth, the price was about what he'dexpected: five times what would be asked in a back room inDock Ward and about thrice what quarrels could be had forin Scornubel or in most places where competition wasn'tfierce, The supply was better than he'd hoped for, too: twicethe crossbow bolts they'd set out with, in full score-and-onequivers.Four quivers each, if he bought them all."Acceptable," he added."We'll take them all.""All?" the trader echoed, his surprise too strong to leave hiscustomary stoneface intact."Waukeen praise you, warrior!""Ah, but she does," Thoadrin grunted, with a minimum of enthusiasm, "and the tax collector conies trotting right behind her gifts, with his hand out to fondle my purse and more!"The trader chuckled politely, signaled with one finger— and his assistants took up a quiver each and held them out to the nearest of Thoadrin's men.The Cult warrior shook his gauntlet off his hand and drew forth the leather snake of coins from along his forearm, under the armor.He let its river of gold spill into the trader's bowl and had the satisfaction of seeing the trader shake his head and murmur, "Waukeen does smile upon you, lord.""True enough," Thoadrin agreed, noting—without appearing to look—his men checking the quivers they received by drawing random bolts forth, ere settling them in saddlebags and on baldrics."Yet other gods call on me all too often and interrupt the time I'd fain spend with the Lady of All Coins." He nodded as the last coin fell into the bowl, then plucked another from a slit in his swordbelt and tossed it in, too."Mention me to her in your prayers," he said, turning his horse away."I shall," the merchant said, as they exchanged nods of respect."What name shall I tell her?"Thoadrin smiled."She knows me well.Just say, 'the dragonbone fool on the horse' and she'll know."The trader frowned."Dragonbone?"The warrior shrugged."Paerun holds a lot of fools on horses.A word to make me stand out."As he spurred away from Dowan Pool with his men riding at his heels, trailing the easy laughter of men laden with food, heavily armed, and eager to launch their next attack, Thoadrin murmured aloud the same unfortunate saving that the trader was probably mouthing about now, too: "One fate befalls fools who stand out."Marlel smiled softly as he peered out of his wagon-flap.The man with the heavy coffer was just setting it down behind Narm Tamaraith.The spellfire-lass mattered, but her lad did not.Of course, if this clumsy hireling—of Thay, if he had his rogues right— succeeded, the Dark Blade of Doom would have to move swiftly.Even the stupidest Zhent could figure out that a lone, grieving lass would have to sleep sometime.The Thayan turned and rose from the coffer in a single smooth movement, the knife in his hand a soot-blackened, unglinting fang that he drove viciously up—Into empty air, as Narm spun away from him, kicking the back of the man's knee.As the Thayan stumbled, Narm's own knife flashed out and found a home in the man's left eye.As the Thayan fell, Marlel saw all the color drain out of the young lad's face.Narm promptly threw up all over the corpse.Marlel leaned forward for a better look and hastily ducked back from the flap as one of Voldovan's veteran dogs—Beldimarr—came hastening to Narm, casting a look in Marlel's direction as he did so.The man who was not Haransau Olimer cradled a cold belt-flask of thrusk—brewed this morning, and doubtless as bitter as a winter storm by now—and smiled in the dimness.So the young lad had grown claws, had he? A pity he was trapped facing a small forest of wise and deadly fangs.Four of them, magic leaping between their blades like blue fire as they charged her.Sharantyr bit her lip.This was going to hurt.Ironguard spells stopped metal, not magic.The one protecting her now was the variant that left her hands solid to metal, so she could wield her own blade but could also lose fingers or swordhand to hostile steel.Two foes coming straight at her, the other two circling wide to her flanks.now!She'd taken a wary step or two back, shifted her sword to point at one rushing brigand, then another, and put an expression of fear onto her face.Now, without any warning, she burst into a sprinting run, right at the gap between the man running to her right and the two coming head-on.She was tired.She'd have to end this quickly or have it ended for her.Despite her weariness, she was faster than any of these lumbering men, and one of them stumbled as he tried to turn too swiftly and almost pitched over on his side.Cursing and hopping on a turned ankle, he was far behind her, and she'd timed her move perfectly.A blade reached for her, slid past her shoulder as she leaned gracefully away from it.She passed the right-most of the two straight-ahead chargers and made her own leap to the left
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