Quiet Magic Read Free Page A

prosperity of all depends on the such.
    "We do, insist, however, that no one
may bring in to Lamonta items which do not properly belong to them,
and if they do bring such items, they must not be permitted to
carry them farther but must relinquish them to our care, that we
might return them to their proper owners or find those who might be
able to utilize them if the proper owners are not about. It is the
duty of The Bispham of the Bridge to keep such order here;
elsewhere there are others of my rank to keep order if need
be..."
    Slate closed his eyes briefly,
nodding. This was why the costs of some goods fell as one closed on
the border. Not because they were common in Lamonta--but because
they would be contraband on this side of the bridge!
    "And so, Rove Captain, we must inspect
your troop as we inspect all other travelers. You'll note that some
travelers have discovered on their own that they have somehow come
to carry things whose ownership is unclear --and they have
willingly divested themselves of all such here in the Stonekeep
where such goods are held until their rightful owners might be
ascertained. You and your men are welcome to take advantage of the
few moments left of sunglow to make your own inspection of the
goods you carry before we make ours."
    At that point The Bispham pulled from
its hook one of the many wands he carried, and waved it about
meaningfully.
    "Understand, Captain, that we are able
to identify items that are not traveling with proper ownership or
permissions. If need be, I am empowered to enforce penalties, as
well."
    "Thank you, Bridgemaster. I will
confer with my troop to ensure that none carry aught but what they
should."
    Slate turned to his men warily, eyes
searching the faces of two in particular. Littlebrook, whose grasp
of items was likely better than his grasp of ownership, and Arbran,
who'd fled his home that he not suffer the fate of far too many
younger sons in houses of influence. Arbran had even brought one of
his father's swords to their first meeting, claiming his right to
carry it....
    "We are told," he said gently. "I
trust none of you have any doubt of what we are being offered. We
have the opportunity here to give over anything that we carry under
false pretense. I cannot speak to the penalty, except that we are
somewhat outnumbered and on strange ground to boot. So, please, do
not hesitate."
    His men looked at him, and at each
other. None made move one.
    "I take that as an answer I can
deliver to the magician, then?"
    His men nodded, one by one, even
Littlebrook, even Arbran.
    "So shall we say," he said carefully.
Slate nodded to each of them, felt that slight tingle of danger in
the sword, and turned to face The Bispham.
    "I am told that none carry good they
should not, Bridgemaster."
    The Bispham looked smug.
    "Such an honest troop of rovers I
doubt I've seen before, Captain. Surely, before I must insist with
my own means, you might find about you that which does not belong
to you or yours."
    "We are certain, Bridgemaster," Slate
said.
    "My inspectors will assist you, now,
Rove Captain. Please understand this is a courtesy we would extend
to any of your house."
    * * *
    THEY STOOD, EACH beside the piles of
their belongings, each with bareback horse at side, except for
Slate. Slate stood between two piles--the paltry one that was his
and the larger, more important pile that was those things that
belonged to House DaChauxma. The pack-pony was tethered, likely
grateful to be without his load. Grayling waited impatiently at
Slate's back. His saddlebags had been carefully removed, but the
gray crow stood fast on the saddle, refusing Slate's entreaties to
be gone as well as rebuffing the "assistance" of The Bispham's
minions.
    Slate was inclined to think kindly of
the crow despite it, for by now it was clear that those packed onto
the bridge favored the crow. There were many people now on the
bridge, slinking in from the night, calling out that no one had the
right to stop the