Thornhold - Elaine Cunningham [137]
Khelben rose in response to the dismissal. If he felt the chill of his friend’s tone, it did not show in his eyes. “Believe me, my friend, when I tell you that I hope I am wrong on this matter.”
They moved swiftly through the polite gestures and words of leave-taking, and the Harpers left the palace. As they made their way back through the tunnel, Khelben’s silence was heavy, troubled. It occurred to Danilo for the first time that the archmage might finally have entered a battle that he could not hope to win. How could any man go against paladins without appearing to side with evil? And what man alive-especially a man who had lived Khelben’s long years and wielded his vast power-did not have in his past some secrets that would support this supposed charge of wrongdoing? Danilo did not know of any particulars, but Khelben’s reaction when they discussed the history of the Knights of Samular led him to believe that at least a few of the archmage’s secrets might be bound up with this order.
“What you said to Piergeiron…“ Danilo ventured. “You spoke of this thing ending badly, but hoped that your predictions would prove wrong. Do you believe that a likely possibility?”
The archmage sniffed. “Do you want an honest answer?” A wry smile lifted the corner of Danilo’s lips. “I suppose not.”
“I’ve noticed,” Khelben said in a voice heavy with weariness, “that people seldom do.”
Fourteen
The ride to Summit Hall passed more swiftly than Bronwyn had anticipated. Ebenezer’s blue pony, for all his disagreeable nature, had a tireless stride and a stubborn streak as wide as the dwarf’s backside. Blue Devil, as Ebenezer aptly named the beast, would not concede the pace to Bronwyn’s swifter mare, and he trotted along as if challenging the horse to match him.
Shopscat came along with them, sometimes perched on the pack horse, sometimes taking wing and flying in wide circles overhead. “Why the raven?” Ebenezer wanted to know. “You’re looking to scare off shoplifters out here?”
He gestured to the wide expanse of wilderness about them. This was their second day of hard travel. They had forded the Dessarin River early that morning and were now following the Dessarin Road north. The day before, the path had followed several small villages and outlying farms, and riders and caravans waved a friendly salute as they passed. Today they had seen only two other bands of travelers, and both of those early that morning. But for the path itself, this place had little sign of habitation. The trees over much of the road were dense and tall enough to meet overhead. The summer shade would be pleasant, but Bronwyn was just as glad that the trees were still lightly clad with buds and leaflets of golden green. When fully leafed, the trees would provide ample cover for bandits and predators.
“Why the raven?” she echoed. “Sometimes he carries messages back to Alice. Why the pack horse?”
Ebenezer shrugged. “Habit. Never know when you’ll find something worth hauling to market.”
She chuckled. “Now you’re sounding like a treasure hunter.”
“Been known to do it. There’s worse ways of earning your keep. Harpering being one of them, I’m guessing.”
She slid a speculative look at the dwarf. His studiously casual tone proclaimed a certain interest. Dwarves, as a rule, liked to keep to themselves and avoided meddling like they avoided water, but Ebenezer was a curious sort with interests that ranged far beyond those of his kin.
“It’s not really the way I earn my keep, although I suppose some people do. Being a Harper is one way to be a part of something, rather than one person alone.”
“Sort of like a clan,” he reasoned.
“I don’t know much about the ties of fanuly, but I suppose you could say that. Look up ahead,” she interrupted, pointing.
For about an hour now, the trees had been thinning out and getting smaller. To the north of them, the scene opened up, changing from forest