"Which means someone else is playing."
Indeed, Steel said. And if you want to stay part of it, you'd best find a way to return to the caravan.
"You think so?" Thorn smiled as she returned the dagger to its sheath and shifted her clothing to her envoy's gown. This outfit was still fresh from the coach, so Thorn smeared a little blood and dirt onto the fabric. Then she pried a dented shield from the broken arm of a dead gnoll. A few gargoyles were still circling around the bridge, and Thorn used the shield to catch the light of the sun. After a few tries, she drew the attention of the scouts.
Lured off the edge by the harpy's song, fortunate to have that souvenir from Sharn… Thorn composed the story in her mind as the gargoyles came to her rescue.
"A souvenir from Sharn?" Drego Sarhain laughed. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
Beren ir'Wynarn shook his head. "Have you been to the City of Towers, Flamebearer Sarhain? When you're walking the edge of Skyway, staring at the hard stone a mile below, you might find that peace of mind is worth a few galifars. And I'd say it was gold well spent."
"I suppose so," Drego said. "I apologize, Lady Tam. Blessings to the Flame for sparing us all."
Thorn's daring attack had given the defenders the opportunity they needed to rally and destroy the remaining harpies. But three of the wagons were broken timber on the floor of the gorge. When the gargoyle carried Thorn up to the bridge, she discovered chaos. Diplomats demanded explanations from guards who couldn't hear them, and gnolls struggled to get everyone moving away from the bridge. They called a halt to regroup as soon as they were a safe distance from the span, and the deafening effects of the thunderstones finally faded.
After some animated discussion, growling, and whining, the gnolls drew the entire group off the main road and into a forest, setting up camp beneath the gnarled trees. With the camp settled, the surviving gnolls drew together and appeared to be evaluating the damage and determining how to proceed. Movement in the sky caused a stir among the travelers, but it proved to be the gargoyles bringing salvaged supplies from the shattered wagons.
Night was falling, and the light from the full moons fell through the trees. The passengers of the blue wagon sat around a crackling fire, watching one another uneasily. Jharl, the gnoll tracker who had ridden in their wagon, studied the sky silently, outside the circle, an arrow held to his bowstring. The buzz of flies filled the air, and Thorn fought to push the image of writhing broodworms out of her mind.
The old elf approached Toli. The bodyguard had bandaged his own wound, but he winced whenever he shifted his weight. The priestess reached out her hand, but Toli pulled away, glaring at her.
"Minister Luala only wishes to tend your wounds," Drego said. "She's a gifted healer. Unless you enjoy pain?"
"I'll take the pain over the touch of a Thrane," Toli said, glaring across the bonfire.
"In this, she acts not as an emissary of Thrane, but as a servant of the Silver Flame," Drego said, and the old woman nodded gravely. "We both lost comrades in this attack, and you fought to defend us all. The light of the Flame touches any brave heart, regardless of your nation or your faith. Let us ease your pain."
The minister reached out again, and this time Toli pushed her hand aside. "I saw the light of your Flame at Vathirond, Thrane. I wasn't defending you, and I don't want your help."
Thorn said nothing, watching as the silent priestess returned to the other side of the fire. She understood his anger. The city of Vathirond lay on the border with Thrane and what had once been Cyre. Few Brelish towns had suffered as much during the war, and it took more than a few years of peace to ease the tensions of a century of war.
Soon a gnoll hunter arrived, carrying a brace of large rabbits. Jharl prepared them over the flame, quartering them with his knife and passing chunks out to the travelers. With no spices and only water to wash it down, it wasn't a meal worthy of the Twilight Palace, but it was better than nothing. Beren and Drego took turns asking for explanations of the attack, but all Jharl would say was, "Wait."
At last, the black-furred gnoll emerged from the deepening shadows around their camp. Jharl rose and bowed his head to Ghyrryn, and the larger gnoll addressed the travelers.
"No delegate is dead," he said. There was no hint of apology in his stance or his voice. "You travel in the morning."
Beren was on his feet. "I'll need a better explanation than that, lad. Who did this? How do we know you weren't involved?"
"You are alive," the gnoll growled.
He's got a point, Thorn thought. Despite her earlier doubts, if the gnolls had turned on the travelers on the bridge, it would have been a bloodbath.
"Then who was responsible? Will they come after us again?"
"We will know by morning. Before we travel." Everything Ghyrryn said was a statement. If he had any doubts, he didn't show them. "A messenger is sent ahead. Troops from the Crag will secure the way."
"And they couldn't have done that sooner?" The silver embroidery on Drego's doublet glittered in the firelight.
"No need was seen. No delegate is dead."
The bear was the symbol of Breland, and in his anger, Beren had the menace of 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.