The Queen of Stone_ Thorn of Breland - Keith Baker [85]
“This way,” Thorn said. She produced the axe again. Sheshka said she’d need it for what lay ahead … presumably, that meant more wolves. The myrnaxe was a heavy weapon, designed to be wielded by an eight-foot gnoll. With effort, Thorn could carry it in one hand. She’d gone too long without consulting with Steel, and she wanted her partner’s opinion about their situation. She pressed her hand against the dagger’s hilt.
You should have brought Toli’s body, he said. There would have been nothing left to link the incident to Breland.
Damn it. At the same time, if Sheshka was right, the bodies were essentially a formality. “He would have slowed us down,” she whispered. “And it would have been exciting meeting those ogres with a corpse over my shoulder.”
“What?” Sheshka was close behind Thorn, her bow in her hands. Thorn had been muttering, and it was unlikely that the medusa heard her exact words, but she’d clearly heard enough to be curious.
“Sorry. I talk to myself when I’m nervous,” Thorn said.
Why should you be nervous? Steel said. We’re only looking at war between Breland and Droaam.
“But why?” Thorn frowned.
“Why what?” Sheshka said. “If you’re nervous, explain your fears.”
“This makes no sense,” Thorn said. “You said that To—the assassins were werewolves.”
“Not necessarily,” Sheshka said. “The Dark Pack is largely made up of the Children of Zaeurl—wolves. But there are wererats in the Crag, and I’ve seen boars, bears, even fierce lizards. The curse can be bound to any predatory spirit.”
“Fine,” Thorn said. “Shapeshifters. The assassins were shapeshifters. But from what I’ve heard, these creatures were exterminated hundreds of years ago. The assassins were all members of the other diplomatic delegations. How long have they been planning this?”
A torrent of filth rained down into the canal as they passed a set of drains.
“I don’t know,” Sheshka said. “A few among them have the power to pass their affliction to others. But it takes time for the magic to seize hold—a week or more.”
“Why do you call it an affliction?”
“They call it a blessing,” Sheshka said. “But I’ve dealt with members of the Dark Pack, and I remember the past. The power changes the people it takes root in. It’s not always bad—I know an ogre near Cazhaak Draal who is wiser and more serene than is typical for his kind. He has little desire for the company of others, and he has never harmed one of my kin.
“But in others—the change it brings is terrifying. The Children of Zaeurl may wear the skin of wolves, but the wolf doesn’t hunt other creatures for sport. It takes no pleasure in tormenting its prey. Not so the wolves of the Dark Pack.”
She said she remembered the past, Steel said. Find out what she meant. Thorn dutifully repeated the question.
“My people live far longer than yours,” Sheshka replied. “I remember a time when skinchangers came down from the great woods of the north. My people have never been touched by the shifting, but I saw many others who were—ogres, goblins, even trolls. Those corrupted by this power turned on their own kind. Fortunately, they were few in number and we kept them at bay.
“Decades later, Zaeurl came south with her kin, along with worgs and dire wolves. But unlike those who had come before her, she sought only to be left alone, to roam with her pack and hunt the beasts of the wild, or occasionally the humans on the western frontier. She didn’t seek to spread her affliction. And so the warlords left her alone.”
She’s talking about the Silver Crusade, Steel said. The same event Minister Luala described at the feast. It sounds like the Droaamish fought their own battle against lycanthropy. Fascinating.
“I don’t know if Zaeurl had dealings with Sora Katra in the intervening years; many of us dealt with the Mistress of the Mires. But when the Three Sisters called the warlords to the Crag, Zaeurl arrived with her full pack and was the first to swear fealty to Droaam. The Dark Pack and the Znir Pact have always been the staunchest allies of the Daughters—hence my suspicion