The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [44]
Drul Kantar had said that the Daughters of Sora Kell had called the most powerful warlords of the land to the Crag. Based on the encounter at Korlaak Pass, either some of the warlords had their own plans for Droaam and its relations with the east, or the Daughters were playing a game even their soldiers weren’t aware of. Tonight would be her first chance to study the lords of Droaam.
A goblin passed by with a tray of marinated meat on skewers. Thorn grabbed one of the treats as the servant went past. Perhaps it was just her hunger, but the meat was one of the most delicious things she’d tasted; juicy, perfectly spiced, with an exotic flavor she couldn’t identify. It wasn’t until she reached the end of the skewer that she noticed the small skull wedged down at the base—charred and blackened, but still distinctly humanoid. Pixie kabobs? she wondered. Her gorge rose, and she was half-inclined to let it. Surely they wouldn’t serve intelligent creatures as food. She noticed a gnoll licking his jaws, two of the skewers in his hand. She resolved to stick to the tribex.
“Good evening, Lady Tam.” The face was familiar, but the voice was a surprise. It was Minister Luala, the Thrane envoy. She spoke softly, but somehow Thorn could hear every word. Drego Sarhain stood just behind her, with the shadow of a smirk on his face. “Now that I am able, I wish to thank you for your conduct and company on our journey.”
“I just played the hand I was dealt, minister.”
“Nonetheless, your kindness was appreciated … especially in comparison to your comrade in arms.” Her eyes flickered to where Lord Beren and his bodyguard were speaking to another oni.
“If you mean Toli, I’d be happy to let that subject drop, minister. I’m a diplomat. I choose my words with more care than my companions. But Toli lost friends and family to Thrane soldiers. Personally, I think it’s a testament to his restraint that words were all that were exchanged.”
The minister looked crestfallen. “I had hoped that we could heal the wounds between our nations—just as I sought to restore Toli to health.”
“If you want to magically mend the damage, try raising the dead of Vathirond and Shadukar.”
Drego stepped forward. “And what of the Thranes slain by Brelish soldiers? Our nations rose together when the Last War began. Are you somehow placing the blame on Thrane’s shoulders alone?”
“Not at all,” Thorn said. She sighed. She appreciated what Luala was trying to do, but she understood Toli’s anger. “I wasn’t asking for forgiveness. I don’t expect your people to forget the deaths of those they loved in the space of a few years. I know mine won’t. I appreciate your thoughts, Minister Luala. Perhaps a time will come when our wounds can be healed. But right now, we’re here for Droaam. I suggest that you don’t try to take on too many challenges.”
“Wise advice.” A woman’s voice, low and husky.
The newcomer stood directly behind the Thrane soldier accompanying Drego and Luala. The bodyguard started in surprise and reached for his weapon, but the stranger caught his wrist in one hand and his neck in the other, pinning him in place.
“Don’t,” she said, addressing Drego and Thorn as much as her prisoner. “I’ve been told not to kill you, but no one raises a weapon against me and lives.”
She released the soldier with a sudden shove that sent him stumbling to his knees. Drego Sarhain had moved between the stranger and Minister Luala, and Thorn stepped to the side, where she could get a good view of the newcomer.
At first, Thorn thought it was the elf she’d seen back at the Duurwood Camp—the hunter with his wolves. The stranger wore the same uniform—loose black hunter’s clothes spattered with grey patterns to help blend into the shadows. Pale skin, hair the color of moonlight, the wide eyes and pointed ears of a full-blooded elf. But this was a woman. Older than the young hunter. And only one long elf ear emerged from beneath her hair; her left ear was missing, the wound hidden from view. My mother sends her greetings, the young elf had told the gnolls. Thorn