Read The Queen of Stone: Thorn of Breland for Free Online Page A

length than a dagger. The other held the book—the chronicle of Harryn Stormblade.
    Thorn mentally checked the placement of the dozen professional tools hidden on her person and hid Kalakhesh’s sack inside her traveling bag. Shouldering the bag, she made her way into the hall. A polished marble orb was set on a pedestal at the top of the landing. Thorn placed her palm on the orb and felt a slight breeze blow across her skin. The cleansing stone was an Aundairian innovation. As its energy passed over her, it drove dirt and oil from skin, clothes, and hair. In addition, it dispersed the lingering odor of the slaughterhouse, replacing it with a hint of fresh rain. Thorn didn’t think any of the creatures outside would be looking for her, but it never hurt to be careful. She took a loaf of brown bread from a silver platter in the atrium and walked onto the Roar.
    Seven long wagons were spread across the plaza, their interiors hidden beneath canopies of painted cloth. Dozens of gnoll warriors moved around the convoy, anda knot of gargoyles circled in the sky above the square. Thorn examined the closest soldier—seven to eight feet in height with spotted reddish fur, blunt snout, gleaming green eyes, and strength to rival bugbears. His limbs were long and lanky, and his legs were jointed like those of a dog. Despite the awkward appearance, none of them had any trouble standing or walking upright. The nearest gnoll wore a jerkin of black leather set with iron rivets, and he held a bow taller than Thorn. He glanced at her and grinned. It was difficult to tell if it was meant to be friendly or aggressive.
    “People of foreign lands!” The gnoll who had called them out to the Roar shouted. “I will tell you what carriage to ride in. I will hear no argument, and my soldiers will prevent any battles between you. Leave your struggles in this place. I care nothing for your nations, for crimes done to you or your brood. My task is to bring you safely to the Three, and if you must be chained for your safety it will be done.”
    Thorn glanced around the plaza at the other delegates. The dwarves from the Mror Holds, with jewels and finery fit to rival the King of Breland. The Aundairians—but which was the wizard, and which the spy? Everyone had fallen silent, waiting for the gnoll to speak.
    “Aundair! Brown coach!”
    Thorn watched the delegates as they moved. Both the servants had hidden pouches and pockets woven into the lining of their cloaks. One would be carrying the many tools of arcane magic—pinches of sulfur, cat whiskers wrapped in paper, little balls of guano from which to conjure fire. The other would have poisons, weapons, lock picks, and tools … the same things Thorn had hidden on her person.
    Unless, of course, they were both sorcerers
and
spies.
    “Breland! Blue coach!”
    Gray was about as close to blue as anything on theplaza, so Thorn made her way toward the gray wagon. She spotted two soldiers in the red and gold uniform cloaks of the Brelish Royal Guard, escorting a familiar figure.
    “Nyrielle! There you are!” Lord Beren ir’Wynarn beamed as he caught sight of her, and his escorts turned to face her. “Gentlemen, Nyrielle is here as my aide. Nyri, meet Toli and Grenn, the worst layabouts my cousin could find. I’d say the bear was trying to kill me, but I think you and I could take on these brutes ourselves, eh?”
    Thorn laughed, but it was Nyrielle who answered. “Normally, I could fight an even dozen, my lord, but I slept poorly last night. You’d be unwise to rely on me today.”
    “Then I suppose it falls to me,” Beren grumbled, grinning behind his beard. “Good thing I’m up to the challenge. Did I ever tell you about my victory over the champion of Kalnor Pass?”
    “I’ve had the honor of hearing the tale, Lord Beren, but I’ve always heard it said that your royal cousin King Boranel fought that battle.”
    Beren waved this aside. “Oh, I let it be spread about that way, yes. Good