The Queen of Stone: Thorn of Breland by Keith Baker Read Free Book Online Page A

flaps of the wagon and sat down next to Thorn. He gave a long cry, and a moment later, the wagon lurched forward. The journey to the Great Crag had begun.

C HAPTER S IX
    The Korlaak Pass Droaam
    Eyre 12, 998 YK
    T he benches were uncomfortable, and the wagon bumpy and unsteady on the rough road. The passengers had to clutch the edges of their seats to keep from sliding or falling. Toli and Grenn had passed the first hour of the trip glaring at their Thrane counterparts. For their part, the Thranes sought to project cool disinterest, but the tension was there.
    Toward the end of the war, Thrane had been one of Breland’s greatest rivals. Beset on all sides and hamstrung by the betrayal of its mercenary forces, Cyre had been pushed into a desperate position, struggling to defend its remaining territory against the constant pressure of Breland, Karrnath, and Darguun. Breland had formed alliances with Aundair and Zilargo, and Karrnath was too far away to pose a true threat. Which left Thrane as the most significant danger to Brelish security.
    Early in the war, the people of Thrane had turned away from the rule of royalty and fully embraced the Church of the Silver Flame, and the faith served them well in the struggle. When the conflict began, the standing army of Thrane was far smaller than that of Breland or Karrnath, and it lacked foundries to produce the weapons of war.But whereas its army was small, its civilian militias were vast. The followers of the Silver Flame were charged to fight against darkness, and villagers trained with spear and bow. Two centuries earlier, they had exterminated the werewolves and shapechangers of the western woods; that same zeal gave them the courage to defend their nation against human foes.
    Beyond the courage of the commoner, the priests of Thrane were true miracle workers. The people of Breland were pragmatists by nature, never fond of things they couldn’t measure or prove. The work of a wizard was based on formulas and arcane science, and the Brelish could grasp it. But the magic of a cleric was a thing of pure, trusting faith, and when it came to faith, few people could match the Thranes.
    “How did you come to be in civil service, Lady … Tam, was it?” They were the first words the envoy had spoken since the trip began. “I thought I knew the sixty families of Sharn as well as the royal lines of Galifar, but I don’t recall ever hearing the name Tam.”
    Thorn studied the man sitting across from her. Perfect skin, not a hair out of place, fine clothes—unusual for a nation driven by such an ascetic faith. The priestess had an aura of serenity, and her habit was far simpler than her comrade’s garb, with his glittering embroidered flames. No sign of a weapon, no wand that she could see … was he truly just a diplomat?
    “My father was a soldier,” Thorn said. “In Breland, you don’t need gold or noble blood to serve the nation. And what of your lineage? I’d hate to sully your ears with my common speech.”
    The man laughed. “No fear of that. I am Drego Sarhain, milady. And surely, I am as common as they come.”
    Thorn glanced at his gleaming cuffs. “Rather fine work for a common man.”
    He waved his hand dismissively. “Your father was asoldier; my mother, a seamstress. We each have our heirlooms.” He gestured at the dagger Thorn wore on her belt. “Your father’s blade?”
    Perfect!
    “Yes, it’s been in my family for generations.” She drew the blade from its sheath. The eyes of the gnolls and the Thrane soldiers locked on her, but she simply laid the dagger across her legs. “I’ve always wondered what stories it could tell, if only it could talk.”
    Very funny
, Steel whispered in her mind.
Give me a few moments and I’ll see what I can find
.
    “An interesting design,” Drego said, studying the dagger from across the wagon. “Balanced for throwing, yes? May I take a closer look?” He extended his hand.
    “I’m afraid not,” Thorn replied.