Red Magic - Jean Rabe [32]
"We'll pose as Thayvians," Wynter began, noting that Brenna seemed to be calming down a little. "Centaurs walk freely in the streets of Thay, and humans are the dominant race. We'll have no trouble."
"And?" Brenna was curious.
"Then we listen for rumors, study the current political situation, and gather as much information as we can about this Red Wizard Maligor or any other Red Wizard who might make trouble against Aglarond. The more we learn, the better the Harpers can deal with any threat."
"That's it? Just gather information?" The sorceress's ire was rising again. "I thought we were going to do something."
"Getting information is doing something," Wynter countered. "The Harpers can't act in force unless we know what we're up against."
"And you think posing as Thayvians will get us that information?" Brenna returned.
"Yes," the centaur stated. "We haven't been able to learn much from outside Thay. Inside the country, posing as Thayvians, it should be another matter. Of course," he added softly, "spying is dangerous. If we're found out, we'll likely be put to death."
The sorceress dug into her pocket to retrieve her gold hair clasp and began picking the dirt out of it with her long fingernails. "I know it's dangerous, but I'm doing it for my home country." She glanced at the druid. "Look, Galvin, you don't really have a home. I mean, you live in the woods. It's not like feeling you're a part of a country. When it comes right down to it, you're only responsible for yourself. But when you live around people, as I do, you feel responsibility toward them."
"I have a home," Galvin said tersely. He propped himself up on his elbows and frowned at Brenna. Standing up, he brushed the dirt from his tunic. His home was the wilderness of Faerun, and he considered himself the protector of the animals who lived in it.
"Fine. You have a home." Brenna ignored the centaur's gentle nudge, not sensing when to quit. "It's just that my home has lots of people-people who may be in grave danger." She paused to blow her hair away from her eyes. Several stubborn strands stuck to her sweat-stained forehead and she had to move them aside with her hand.
"Our country's history is wrapped up with the Red Wizards. We've battled them on and off for decades." She paused again, this time to untwine a braid and take another deep breath. Galvin had her started, and she wasn't going to stop until she finished her say or passed out from exhaustion.
"In the past when we've fought the wizards' forces, like in the battles of Singing Sands or Brokenheads, we were able to defeat them, but our casualties were high. Our ruler, the Simbul, doesn't want another war. Or if we must fight, she wants to know it's coming so we can be prepared."
The druid turned his back to Brenna and resumed his course along the riverbank. The centaur bent at the waist and extended a hand to help the councilwoman up. This time she took it.
"We're not making good enough time to reach the First Escarpment today," Wynter said. "We'll probably travel another couple of hours, then camp for the evening."
"We can make it. I'll walk faster," she volunteered, although she knew she had pushed herself hard already and would have trouble keeping up with only one boot.
The trio, with Brenna in the rear, continued along the bank. Close to the river, ancient willows, one with a trunk nearly as thick as Galvin was tall, dug their roots into the earth to drink thirstily from the river. Their long, whiplike branches danced in the breeze and swept the ground. Galvin carefully moved a few branches aside and disappeared under the largest willow's umbrellalike canopy.
Dozens of small yellow parrots perched in the giant tree chittered excitedly. When Wynter and Brenna passed through the willow branches and emerged on the other side of the