Thornhold - Elaine Cunningham [48]
“You are in good fortune, lady,” he said in animated tones. “Sir Gareth Cormaeril is in residence today. He was a great friend of Hronulf’s and a partner in arms in their youth. You will surely fmd him in the exchequer’s study, attending to the business of his order. Shall I escort you there?”
“Please.” Bronwyn listened carefully as the young man continued to extol Sir Gareth, Hronulf, and the former great deeds of the mighty warriors. He told the story of the Zhentarim attack and the terrible wound that Gareth received defending his friend’s life.
“Sir Gareth serves the Order of the Knights of Samular still as exchequer in charge of funds. Hronulf, of course, is still on active duty.”
Bronwyn’s heart thudded at this news. Her father was still alive? For some reason, that possibility had never occurred to her. She had hoped only to hear stories of him. Never had she dreamed that she might see him again with her own eyes.
The chatty young knight kept talking, but Bronwyn did not hear another word until she stood at the door of Sir Gareth’s study. The knight made the introductions and left her there.
Sir Gareth was a handsome man in late middle life, robust still despite the wound that rendered his right arm virtually useless. He graciously received her and sent a servant for tea.
“You wish to know of Hronulf Caradoon,” he said. “May I inquire what the source of your interest might be?”
Bronwyn saw no reason to prevaricate, yet instinct and habit prompted her to tell less than the whole truth. “I have been looking for my family for many years. It is possible that Hronulf might have information that will help me in my search.”
Sir Gareth leaned back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. “That is most interesting. Hronulf, too, has suffered a loss of family. I am certain he will be most sympathetic to your plight and will do all that is in his power to aid you. Of course,” he said with a faint, proud smile, “he would do so regardless.”
The wann regard in the knight’s blue eyes touched her. “I am told that he is your friend.”
“The best I ever had, and a better man that this world deserves,” Sir Gareth responded. “But meet him, and judge for yourself”
The knight reached for ink and parchment and wrote a few words. He sprinkled the ink with drying powder, then shook the excess away. He rolled the letter into a scroll and handed it to an attentive scribe. “My seal,” he instructed absently, and then turned back to Bronwyn.
“Bear this letter to Hronulf, as my introduction. He is captain of the fortress known as Thornhold. Do you know it?”
“I have heard of it. Off the High Road, perhaps two days’ ride north of Waterdeep?”
“That is correct. Ah, thank you,” he said, taking the sealed missive from his assistant. He handed the scroll to Bronwyn. “Do you desire an escort? I am not at leisure to accompany you myself, but I would gladly send trusted men to guide and protect you.”
Bronwyn smiled her thanks and shoved aside the hint of resentment that his paternalistic tone inspired. It was a gracious offer, and should be graciously received. “You are very kind, Sir Gareth, but I will be fine on my own.”
“Then may Tyr speed your path. You leave soon?”
“Today,” she agreed.
He rose. “Then I will not keep you. If you would be so kind, bear my regards to my old friend.”
She agreed and took his offered hand, then swiftly left the Halls of Justice. She passed the Ilzimmer shop without stopping to inquire about the progress of the commissioned repairs. After all, her client’s family had been missing the emerald brooch for over a century. A few days more wouldn’t alter matters much.
The Street of Silks was lively with mid-morning commerce by the time Bronwyn arrived at her shop. But to her surprise, the door to the Curious Past was closed, and a sign proclaimed that the shop would open after highsun.
Bronwyn frowned as she fumbled in her pocket for her extra key. This was unlike Alice. The gnome was the most faithful shopkeeper in all