The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [16]
“I’m certain your aide can take care of herself,” Toli said, with a meaningful glance at Thorn.
“So Lord Beren won’t sit where he chooses?” Thorn asked innocently. She saw the corner of the Thrane’s mouth twitch slightly.
Toli wasn’t amused. “Lady Tam, I hope that you understand the dangers we face in this place. We will do our best to defend you, but our first priority is to protect Lord Beren. Please let us do that.”
Beren raised a hand. “Look here, boy—”
“He’s right, Lord Beren.” Thorn nodded to Toli. “I’m sorry for being rude. But you must listen to your guards.”
The gnoll was tired of the discussion. “Sit now,” he growled. “Others wait outside. Caravans leave before sun rises.”
The Brelish took their seats on the hard bench. The Thrane diplomat sat across from Thorn, flashing a brilliant smile at her. The gnoll moved deeper into the wagon, making room for the remaining members of the Thrane delegation. First came a soldier dressed in a lightweight shirt of polished chain mail. Her sword was drawn, and the engraved blade gleamed in the fading moonlight. Thorn guessed that the steel was mixed with silver. The Thrane warrior studied Beren and his guards with obvious distaste, but sheathed her weapon and took a seat alongside her countryman.
A second soldier helped an elderly elf woman up the ladder into the wagon. The elf wore the habit of a priestess of the Silver Flame, and judging from the pale parchment of her skin and her sunken eyes, she had to be at least four hundred years old—almost as old as the church itself. Apparently, the Thranes weren’t concerned about having a delegate who could defend herself if a brawl broke out—or they trusted that the Silver Flame would protect her. For a moment the priestess met Thorn’s gaze, and looking into the pale eyes of the elf made Thorn think of her mother. Where was she now? What had led her to Khorvaire thirty years ago, and why had she been so quick to leave?
This was no time to ponder the past. A few more gnolls climbed into the wagon, and they spoke in their own tongue—a strange mix of hoots, whines, and fluting sounds that she never would have expected from creatures with such canine appearance. At long last the black gnoll that had called himself Ghyrryn closed the back flaps of the wagon and sat down next to Thorn. He gave a long cry, and a moment later, the wagon lurched forward. The journey to the Great Crag had begun.
CHAPTER SIX
The Korlaak Pass Droaam
Eyre 12, 998 YK
The benches were uncomfortable, and the wagon bumpy and unsteady on the rough road. The passengers had to clutch the edges of their seats to keep from sliding or falling. Toli and Grenn had passed the first hour of the trip glaring at their Thrane counterparts. For their part, the Thranes sought to project cool disinterest, but the tension was there.
Toward the end of the war, Thrane had been one of Breland’s greatest rivals. Beset on all sides and hamstrung by the betrayal of its mercenary forces, Cyre had been pushed into a desperate position, struggling to defend its remaining territory against the constant pressure of Breland, Karrnath, and Darguun. Breland had formed alliances with Aundair and Zilargo, and Karrnath was too far away to pose a true threat. Which left Thrane as the most significant danger to Brelish security.
Early in the war, the people of Thrane had turned away from the rule of royalty and fully embraced the Church of the Silver Flame, and the faith served them well in the struggle. When the conflict began, the standing army of Thrane was far smaller than that of Breland or Karrnath, and it lacked foundries to produce the weapons of war. But whereas its army was small, its civilian militias were vast. The followers of the Silver Flame were charged to fight against darkness, and villagers trained with spear and bow. Two centuries earlier, they had exterminated the werewolves and shapechangers of the western woods; that same zeal gave them the courage to defend their nation against