Thornhold - Elaine Cunningham [98]
“Another seat, if you please,” called Laharin.
Pages-young boys brought to the temple to be tested for suitability to the life of Tyr-leaped to do the Master Paladin’s bidding. Algorind found himself escorted and seated with discomfiting ceremony. All eyes were upon him when Laharin urged him to speak.
Again Algorind’s eyes sought out Sir Gareth. The old knight solemnly tapped one finger to his lips, reminding Algorind of his pledge of discretion. The conflicting duties made Algorind feel uncomfortably like a tethered hawk bid to fly and hunt.
“I rode north to Thornhold to carry a message of a personal nature to Hronulf,” Algorind said carefully. Sir Gareth’s faint nod assured him that these words were well chosen. “When I was but a few hours away, I saw black smoke rising into the sky. From the scent, I knew it to be a bier.”
Algorind fell silent for a moment in respect to the fallen. All around him knights and priests bowed their heads or formed the hand gestures that affirmed their faith and commended the spirits of their brother knights into the hands of Tyr.
“I heard a patrol and lay ambush.” Algorind blushed to admit this, but he was sworn to the truth. “There were four men, mounted and well armed. They were searching for a woman who had been in the fortress at the time of the attack. She escaped, and none knew how, but it seems likely that she took with her a ring that belonged to Hronulf.”
Murmurs of consternation rippled through the hall. “And did you seek this woman?” demanded Laharin.
“Sir, I believe I caught sight of her. She was in the company of a dwarf and riding south for Waterdeep. If it is your wish, I will seek her out.”
Sir Gareth rose slowly, and his expression was that of a man determined to meet a fate of his own making. “Brothers, I may be able to shed some light on this matter. Some days ago, a young woman came to me earnestly seeking word of Hronulf of Tyr. She gave me the name Bronwyn. A slight woman, with large brown eyes and very determined bones about the cheeks and chin, and a very long braid of brown hair. Is this the woman you saw?”
“By your description of her size and hair, it seems likely,” Algorind agreed. “I was too far away to stop her, much less look carefully at her face.”
Sir Gareth sighed and sank down to his chair. “I have gravely erred,” he admitted. “I spoke of Hronulf to this woman, and perhaps my words sent her to Thornhold.”
“Do not reproach yourself, brother,” Master Laharin told him. “You had no reason to doubt the motive for the young woman’s questions.”
“No, none, but I did not pray to Tyr to test her heart and her chosen path. That was a terrible oversight.” Sir Gareth’s brow furrowed suddenly, and he looked to Algorind. “How is it that you are come so late with this news?”
This was the moment Algorind had been dreading. “My horse was stolen from me by the dwarf who accompanied the woman. I had to walk back to the city.”
“In that case, your progress is most noteworthy,” Laharin said dryly. “Tell me, did you fare any better in retrieving the child of Samular’s blood?”
“Oh, yes, sir.” Algorind said earnestly. He looked to Sir Gareth for confirmation.
The old knight swept the room with a steady gaze. “Upon hearing of the fall of Thornhold, I feared for the child’s safety. She was taken to a place of secret fosterage, outside of Waterdeep. It seemed a wise precaution.”
“But-”
Sir Gareth shot Algorind a glare that stopped his protest as surely as an arrow to the heart. How was it, Algorind marveled, that the knight could make this claim? He himself had delivered the child to Sir Gareth well before the fall of the stronghold and had been told at that time that the girl was to be taken to secret fosterage. Perhaps she had been moved to a safer place, Algorind concluded, finding consolation in this reasoning.
“How, then, are we to proceed?” asked a knight whose name Algorind did not know, a man of middle years and exceedingly ruddy visage.
“This young paladin has