The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [68]
Beren swore, and to Thorn’s surprise he reached for his sword. Despite his past, Beren had achieved more as a diplomat than he ever had as a warrior, and she’d never seen him lose control during a negotiation. Last night, he’d faced the medusa queen with no qualms whatsoever. She seized his arm before he could draw his blade. Behind her, she heard Sheshka sheathe her sword.
“My eyes are closed,” the medusa said.
“I should tear them out!” Beren cried. For an old man, he was surprisingly strong.
“Be calm, Lord Beren,” Sheshka said. She had regained her composure. “Your man should have known better. Would you allow someone to speak to your king in such a way? I will restore him when our business is concluded.”
“He was just acting to protect Lord Beren from your basilisk,” Thorn said. “How did you expect him to react?” Thorn knew it was unwise to push the issue, but she was as angry as Beren.
To her surprise, the medusa shook her head. “I forget how little your people know of the world and its wonders.”
Her voice had actually softened. A few of the snakes hissed in a strange pattern, and suddenly the basilisk retreated from under the table, moving over to settle next to the medusa queen. She leaned down and dropped something on the floor … another petrified finger.
“Szaj is young. His gaze is unlikely to transform a creature of your size. Beyond that, the gaze of the basilisk is dangerous only when its eyes are fully exposed. If you met Szaj’s gaze, you’d have seen the pale membranes across his eyes.” Sheshka ran a hand across the lizard’s head; the finger it was chewing on had somehow become flesh and blood. “He is being trained to be around others without harming them.”
Beren was staring at the statue of Toli, and the muscles in his jaw were twitching. Thorn spoke before he had the chance.
“You couldn’t have expected Toli to know that,” she said. “He believed you were trying to kill us. So did I, for that matter. Surely you could have foreseen this.”
Six serpents hissed at once, watching her closely. “So you’ve never heard of Cazhaak Draal? You didn’t think we would speak at this summit?”
Beren was still bristling, but he had regained enough composure to speak. “Make your point.”
“You aren’t in your Five Nations any more,” Sheshka said. She had sheathed her sword, but her voice was deadly. “You have come to my home. Your soldier threatened me with a blindfold. A blindfold, on my soil. Would I come into your castle and strip away your sword, or demand that you wear chains? If I found a hunting hound in your chamber, would I try to kill it, or would I assume it was under your control?”
“We can’t kill with a glance,” Beren said.
“And that excuses your threat to pluck out my eyes? Should I cut off your hands so you cannot strangle me?” The medusa’s eyelids fluttered, but remained closed. “Hand, tooth, steel—we are all deadly, Beren ir’Wynarn. If you had studied the creatures of our land, you would have known that Szaj posed no threat. Or you simply could have trusted that I wouldn’t allow a diplomatic envoy to come to harm. Instead, you drew a weapon and demanded that I cripple myself for your benefit. I am queen of my own kingdom. You cannot make demands of me, and you should consider yourself lucky that I am willing to restore him. If one of my kin acted in such a way in the presence of your king, I doubt you’d be so merciful.”
A storm brewed in Beren’s scowl. “Your kingdom would amount to little more than a city in Breland,” he snarled. Once again, Thorn was surprised by his aggressive tone. “Your leaders called us here. You want to join our alliance. We aren’t bargaining. We’re listening to the pleas of beggars.”
Sheshka