Dragons of Spring Dawning by Weis, Margaret

He dropped his hand from her arm, realizing he hadn’t the strength to hold her. “It’s what they’ve done in the past. I know. The Highlord told me. Whole villages destroyed. People tortured, murdered. Anyone this man comes in contact with is doomed. They fear whatever deadly secret he carries will be passed on, and they can’t allow that.”

Maquesta sat down. “Berem?” she whispered softly, unbelievingly.

“They couldn’t do anything because of the storm,” Tanis said wearily, “and the Highlord was called away to Solamnia, some battle there. But sh-the Highlord will be back today. And then-” He couldn’t go on. His head sank into his hands as a shudder racked his body.

Maquesta eyed him warily. Could this be true? Or was he making all this up to force her to take him away from some danger? Watching him slump miserably over the table. Maquesta swore softly. The ship’s captain was a shrewd judge of men. She needed to be, in order to control her rough-and-ready crew. And she knew the half-elf wasn’t lying. At least, not much. She suspected there were things he wasn’t telling, but this story about Berem-as strange as it seemed-had the ring of truth.

It all made sense, she thought uneasily, cursing herself. She prided herself on her judgment, her good sense. Yet she had turned a blind eye to Berem’s strangeness. Why? Her lip curled in derision. She liked him-admit it. He was like a child, cheerful, guileless. And so she had overlooked his unwillingness to go ashore, his fear of strangers, his eagerness to work for a pirate when he refused to share in the loot they captured. Maquesta sat a moment, getting the feel of her ship. Glancing outside, she watched the golden sun glint off the white caps, then the sun vanished, swallowed by the lowering gray clouds. It would be dangerous, taking the ship out, but if the wind was right-

“I’d rather be out on the open sea,” she murmured, more to herself than to Tanis, “than trapped like a rat on shore.”

Making up her mind, Maq rose quickly and started for the door. Then she heard Tanis groan. Turning around, she regarded him pityingly.

“Come on, Half-Elf,” Maquesta said, not unkindly. She put her arms around him and helped him stand. “You’ll feel better above deck in the fresh air. Besides, you’ll need to tell your friends that this isn’t going to be what you might call a ‘relaxing ocean voyage.’ Do you know the risk you’re taking?”

Tanis nodded. Leaning heavily on Maquesta, he walked across the heaving deck.

“You’re not telling me everything, that’s for certain,” Maquesta said under her breath as she kicked open the cabin door and helped Tanis struggle up the stairs to the main deck. “I’ll wager Berem’s not the only one the Highlord’s looking for. But I have a feeling this isn’t the first bad weather you and your crew have ridden out. I just hope your luck holds!”

The Perechon wallowed in the high seas. Riding under short sail, the ship seemed to make little headway, fighting for every inch it gained. Fortunately, the wind backed. Blowing steadily from the southwest, it was taking them straight into the Blood Sea of Istar. Since they were heading for Kalaman, northwest of Flotsam, around the cape of Nordmaar, this was a little out of their way. But Maquesta didn’t mind. She wanted to avoid land as much as possible.

There was even the possibility, she told Tanis, that they could sail northeast and arrive in Mithras, homeland of the minotaurs. Although a few minotaurs fought in the armies of the Highlords, the minotaurs in general had not yet sworn allegiance to the Dark Queen. According to Koraf, the minotaurs wanted control of eastern Ansalon in return for their services. And control of the east had just been handed over to a new Dragon Highlord, a hobgoblin called Toede. The minotaurs had no love for humans or elves, but-at this point in time- neither had they any use for the Highlords. Maq and her crew had sheltered in Mithras before. They would be safe there again, at least for a little while.