Son of Khyber_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [22]
A trip to the bar provided her with two more flagons of Black Blade. So armed, she strode over to the corner and took a seat at the table.
“That seat is claimed, my lady.” Sorghan’s voice was deep and rough, and his gray eyes could have been chips of flint. Thorn could see the silver brooch, but he wasn’t wearing it on his cloak. Instead, it was pinned to his armor, partially hidden by dark wool.
“Quite. It was good of you to save it for me.” She pushed a flagon across the table. “I’m happy to repay the favor.”
“I’m in no mood for company.”
“It’s not up to you, Marshal Sorghan.” Thorn let her hood slide back and ran her fingers along the edge of her dragonmark. “I’m afraid I’m on family business.”
Thorn had changed before entering the bar. There was more to the work of the Lantern than mere muscle and steel. During her days in the Citadel, she’d learned to work a few spells. It wasn’t something that came easily or often, but in times like this, it was invaluable. She’d woven an illusion that hid her face and form, and now she appeared to be a minister of House Deneith with the Mark of Sentinel traced across her face. She’d darkened her hair and sharpened her features, highlighting the Karrnathi ideals of beauty.
Sorghan’s eyes betrayed no hint of surprise nor emotion of any sort. Thorn was hard-pressed to tell if her disguise affected him on any level. “Continue.”
“You’re to return to Karrlakton, immediately.”
He remained utterly impassive. “And why is that?”
Thorn smiled. “I’m afraid it’s a delicate matter, Marshal. Not one I can discuss in such a public space.”
“A matter of some urgency, it would seem. Such that you could not wait for me at the enclave.”
Thorn shrugged. “My instructions are quite clear. There are things I am to share with you and you alone.” She looked away. “And I will admit to having a … personal interest in a private meeting. The tales of your exploits are most impressive.”
She saw the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. “Tales of my many victories in battle?”
Now she met his gaze and returned the smile. “Oh, those too. I have a room here. Perhaps when you’ve finished your ale, I could share my messages.”
“Why wait?” Sorghan pushed back his stool and rose from the table. “I’ve had enough to drink for the moment. And if you wish a demonstration of my skills, I should like to have my head clear.”
“Of course.” Illusion hid Thorn’s belt pouches, but she could still find them, and she reached down and ran her fingers along the body of the rat. The creature was slightly stiff, its breathing slow and steady. The soporific she’d slipped into the cheese had clearly taken effect. Smiling, she rose and walked to the stairs. “Follow me, Marshal Sorghan. We have much to discuss.”
The Lion and Goat might have had an exceptional selection of beer, but its rooms left much to be desired. Thorn’s quarters were cramped, the linens were stained, and there was a long crack in the mirror that hung on the wall. Thorn pulled the shutter on the everbright lantern, and the light of the cold fire filled the room. Behind her, Sorghan shut the door.
Thorn considered the situation. “This may be hard to—”
Sorghan was upon her before she could finish. He grabbed her hair and pulled hard, jerking her head back. He had a knife at her neck, a narrow dagger that felt like a sliver of ice.
“No words,” he said. “Hands on the table, spread wide.” He pressed the point of the frigid dagger against her throat.
Thorn’s instincts urged her to retaliate, to break his hold. But Sorghan was a Sentinel Marshal, and his reflexes could easily match her own. For now, it was best to play along. She leaned over, spreading her fingers against the desk. What game was he playing?
He pressed his hand down against the back of her neck, rubbing his fingers along the skin until he reached the embedded shard. Thorn’s illusion only fooled the eyes, and though he couldn’t see the stone, he could feel it.
“Drop the glamer,” he growled.
She tried to speak, but the instant she opened her mouth the chill blade pressed into