Элейн Каннингем - Thornhold

The Harper swore fervently. “Are you sure they saw this?”

“It would be hard to miss something that big rising out of a rye field.”

“Then we must hurry,” he said. “We must find a way to get Cara away from the paladins before they catch up with you and demand the artifact.”

They slipped through the city, taking a route that led through the back doors of shops, through several private homes and adjoining tunnels, and even, on one occasion, a short dash across a rooftop. There were many such routes in the city, known only to the Harpers and open only to them. Despite her fury with Khelben, Bronwyn found some comfort in the web of support her Harper alliance offered—not the least of which was the determined friend at her side.

Alice met them at the back door and pushed them back into the alley. “Go right back the way you came. There’s a paladin here looking for you.”

A sense of ill news oft-repeated swept over Bronwyn, and she sighed tiredly. “Tall man? Blond hair?”

“Might have been. There’s no telling, as it’s long since gone white. He gives his name as Sir Gareth Cormaeril.”

Bronwyn glanced at Danilo. “I should see him. He was a friend of my father’s. Perhaps he will tell me what’s going on.”

The Harper shoved one hand through his hair and shook his head uncertainly. “I would be wary.”

“I will be. Listen in, if you want,” she said, knowing very well that he would do so anyway.

She hurried through the back room into the shop. The knight rose to greet her, his handsome and well-worn face tight with worry. “Thank Tyr, child! I hoped that I might have word with you before the watch found you.”

That stopped Bronwyn in her tracks. “The watch?”

“Yes. Lord Piergeiron had decreed that you should be arrested on sight. You are not safe in this city.”

She sat down, hard, on a small bench. “Why?”

The old knight gazed intently at her for a long moment. “It is as I suspected. You are innocent of the charges against you.”

“Tell me.”

He sighed. “The three young paladins sent to escort the child from Blackstaff Tower to the Halls of Justice were found dead. The girl is gone. Most of my brothers suspect that you and your brother, a priest of Cyric allied with the Zhentarim, are behind this abduction.” He hesitated. “There is more.”

“Of course there is,” she muttered. Feeling utterly dazed, she dropped her head into her hands.

“Your brother, Dag Zoreth, commands the forces at Thornhold. I have learned on good authority that he killed Hronulf with his own hands. I would not tell a woman, especially one of your delicate years, the nature of the injuries dealt the young paladins who guarded Dag Zoreth’s child, but they bear that villain’s stamp. Unless I am far wrong, the child is with him … in Thornhold.”

“Oh, Cara,” Bronwyn breathed.

“The child is in grave danger, and not only from the corrupting influence of her father’s faith. The paladins are gathering to mount an assault on Thornhold. It appears that this attack will take place sooner than my brother paladins anticipated. There are not enough men to mount a conventional siege, but the brothers have faith that they can prevail regardless. Not more than an hour ago, a young man of our order, a promising youth known as Algorind, rode in from Summit Hall with four of his brothers. Do you know this man?”

“We’ve met,” she said shortly, not bothering to look up. “He and his friends followed me back to the city.”

“They are seeking you even now—you, and the artifact you carry with you.”

This time she did glance at the knight. “The rings,” she hedged.

“And the siege tower,” he added. “Few among the Knights of Samular know that story, but I heard it from Hronulf, and recognized the Fenrisbane from Algorind’s story. Unfortunately, so did Laharin Goldbeard. You see, once, long ago, the great Samular himself captured Thornhold with the help of this artifact. My brother paladin desires to use it again, for the same purpose, and for the greater glory of Tyr.”

Bronwyn rose and started to pace. “Why are you telling me this?”

The knight came to her and took her shoulders. “You are the daughter of my dearest friend. I see in you Hronulf’s spirit. A terrible injustice has been done to you. As a servant of Tyr, it is my duty to try to see it put to rights.”

She stared up into his face. “What do you mean?”

“Your destiny was stolen from you when you were too young to understand it. Now that you are a woman grown, men seek to do this again. This is not well done, even though it is done in all good conscience, and for a great cause.”

“So what are you saying?”

“The power is yours, Child of Samular. You must decide for yourself how you will use it.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the door. “Now go, and quickly! They will find you if you linger.”

“He’s right.” Danilo emerged from the back, holding out his hand for her. “Though I must say, sir, your words surprise me. Bronwyn, I’ll get you out of the city. Once you’re safe, you can decide what to do.”

Alice came up and pressed a leather bag into her hands. “I heard everything. Here are the things from the safe. You might well be needing them.”

Bronwyn nodded her thanks and turned to the Harper. She clasped his offered hand. “I’m ready.”

As Danilo began the words of a spell, Bronwyn felt a whirling force gather about her. She felt as if she was about to be sucked into a tunnel, torn away from her own body. Never had she traveled magic’s silver paths—never had she had occasion to do so, she told herself. But in truth, the notion terrified her more than the prospect of sea travel.

But she had conquered that old fear. Suddenly Bronwyn knew that she need never again yield to lingering demons from her past—or to a belief that meaning and order for her life could only be found in the secrets of the past.

As the roar and whirl of magic carried her away, Bronwyn lifted her chin and stared straight ahead into the white void. The answers she now sought lay not in the hidden past, but the untried future.

Bronwyn emerged from the magical journey at the Thann family estates not far north of Waterdeep. The sun had vanished by the time they arrived, so she accepted Danilo’s urging and stayed the night. As exhausted as she was, as comfortable as the featherbed in the villa’s guest chamber might be, her dreams were haunted by all that had happened in the last several days and by the uncertainty and danger that lay before.

She rose before the sun and found that Danilo had been busy while she slept. Servants brought new traveling clothes and gear to her room, along with a tray of food. She quickly ate and dressed, and then followed the servants’ directions to the stable. Danilo was there, directing the selection and preparation of a suitable horse and the packing of travel supplies.

His face turned somber when he saw her. “I suppose you’re determined to go.”

“You have to ask?” She jingled the full coin purse at her belt. “Thank you for this, and for everything else. I will repay you for all when I return with Cara.”

He hesitated. Though it was clear that he wished to do so, he did not try to dissuade her from riding north. “My family has mercenaries. I could send men with you.”

She shook her head. “I will not be alone.”

Danilo considered this, and smiled faintly. “It is fitting,” he said simply. “Tymora smile upon you.”

She rode swiftly northward throughout the day, avoiding the High Road and taking a network of smaller paths that Ebenezer had shown her on the first part of their journey together. Surely her friend would return to his clanhold the same way he left. She only hoped she would be able to catch them before nightfall.