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

an angry bear. Although he was a diplomat, he spoke with the authority of a man who believed he served the most powerful nation in Khorvaire. “One of my men is dead,” he growled. “A man I chose myself. You tell me why he died.”
    “You knew the danger of this land, or you would not have guards,” Ghyrryn said, speaking more clearly than usual. “We promised your protection. We do not protect the others.”
    Both Drego and Beren began to protest, but the gnoll snarled and straightened his back, towering over the humans. His eyes gleamed in the firelight. He didn’t raise his weapon—he didn’t need to. This was no guardsman to be ordered about by angry aristocrats. He was a creature of the wild, a predator, and when he showed his teeth, the humans fell silent. Toli rose to his feet, sword in hand,and Thorn moved closer to Beren. But silence was all the gnoll wanted.
    “Your enemy will suffer when found. Know this and be satisfied. It is the only answer you will have from me. Now sleep. We will protect you in the night.” He took a step backward, his eyes locked on Toli, then turned and stalked into the woods.

    Perhaps it amused the Daughters of Sora Kell to put Thrane and Breland in the same wagon, but even the hags didn’t force them to share a tent. Jharl and the gnolls set up pavilions made from stitched hides. Each was built to shelter four persons, and as Thorn entered the tent for her group, the extra space was a painful reminder of Grenn’s death.
    Beren fell asleep as soon as he bedded down, but to Thorn’s dismay, Toli remained awake, glaring at the Thrane tent. Thorn wondered what horrors the man had seen at Vathirond, and when he quietly rose from his bedroll, she feared that he might seek vengeance. Moving quickly, she bunched her blanket around her traveling bag. It wouldn’t fool anyone under close inspection, but at a distance in the moonlight, it would serve.
    Toli was careful and quiet, but he was a bodyguard by trade. A Dark Lantern lived and died by the art of stealth. The light of the moons was almost a match for the sun, and the trees broke the light into deep shadows. Thorn clung to this darkness. Her nightclothes were another version of her shiftweave wardrobe—though her blacks were a better choice for such work, she wanted to play the part of the innocent aide if she were discovered creeping about the camp.
    She needn’t have worried. Murder wasn’t what the bodyguard had in mind—he sought only a secluded place to empty his bladder. A few moments later, he returned to the pavilion.
    Thorn had other plans. She shifted to her dark outfit. An enchantment woven into the black cloth drew the shadows around her, helping her blend into the gloom. She raised her hood and drew her mask up over her face; even if she ran afoul of a gnoll guard, it was unlikely that he’d recognize the Brelish lady. The bracelets she wore on her wrists were multiple overlapping sections, and she drew them back to cover her forearms, activating the defensive magic bound within. She drew Steel, turning the blade against her wrist and keeping him close to her body as she slipped into the woods.
    Is there a reason for this late night stroll?
    Thorn spoke in a low whisper. “I want to learn about the attack. The gnoll said he’d know by morning. That means they’re doing something now—and I want to eavesdrop.”
    A valid concern
.
    “I’m glad I have your approval,” Thorn said. “Given the size of gnoll ears, I don’t think I should be whispering to my dagger while I’m trying to avoid them. If you notice anything interesting, let me know. Otherwise, let the Lantern do her work, yes?”
    Understood
.
    Thorn made her way through the woods, staying just beyond the light of the campfires. The halflings of the Talenta Plains had brought their own sentry—a large lizard that stood on two legs and glared into the woods, sniffing the air and flashing inch-long teeth. If the beast detected Thorn, it made