Chapter 121: A Borrowed Shield.
Count Sterling’s letter had been short and to
the point. Men belonging to a mercenary company called the Third Shield
had taken control of every entrance to the wall inside the Greenward
District. At the morning shift change, Sterling’s soldiers had been
permitted to descend, as they always were. Their replacements had not
been allowed up.
The final line had read: The wall is presently unmanned. I await your instructions. I had read the letter twice, asked Anias to send a reply, and left Veyne Manor before the ink on that reply had dried.
I could have taken a carriage. Anias had
suggested it, and the distance was certainly long enough to justify one.
But a carriage would have sent the wrong message entirely. So I walked,
and I let the whole District watch me do it.
The acting head of House Veyne walking toward
her own wall with its commander at her side, the First Sword and two
heirs behind her, and six armed soldiers following in formation looked
like a procession. Unfortunately, everyone else appeared to have
realized this too.
People stopped to stare as we passed.
Merchants leaned out of their shops. A pair of boys abandoned a ball in
the middle of the road and pointed at me until their mother seized them
both by their collars. A woman on the opposite pavement bowed. The man
beside her did not.
"The Hero," someone whispered.
"That’s really her?"
"She’s smaller than she looked in the picture."
That last one was becoming particularly annoying.
I could have turned my hearing down. The knob
sat inside my mind, waiting for the slightest touch. A single click and
all the whispers would have faded into something distant and
unimportant. I left them alone.
If I was going to parade myself through the District, then the least I could do was hear what the people watching thought of it.
Count Roderick Sterling walked beside me. He
was exactly as I remembered him, which was to say very tall and very
broad. Grey had crept farther into his short hair since I had last seen
him, or perhaps I simply hadn’t noticed it before. After my first
inspection of the wall, we had only corresponded through letters.
When he caught me looking, he tipped his
head. It was a small thing, barely more than a nod. I was fairly
certain it was meant to be respectful, and I was more certain still that
he would have done the same whether or not I was a Hero.
"And they call themselves the Third Shield?" I asked. "A rather odd name."
"There is a history to that name." Sterling’s eyes stayed on the road ahead. "But most mercenary bands have peculiar names."
Behind us, Violet and Damian were arguing.
They had been arguing since we’d left the manor. "All I’m saying,"
Violet said, "is that we should go through them. Who the hell do they
think they are?"
"That's exactly what he wants," Damian said. "Come on. All you need to do is think about this for more than two seconds."
"I am thinking. I'm thinking it'd be fun."
I did not say anything. Damian was saying the
sensible thing, but Violet might have been saying the practical thing
instead. I would just have to go and see for myself.
The crossing between the Veyne and Greenward
Districts had three times the guards I remembered. They eyed us as we
approached. One of them actually moved to step in front of me. Another
caught him by the arm and pulled him back, shaking his head, and the
young man went pale and returned to his post. We passed through without a
word spoken.
"I suppose that's one benefit of coming here with your Ladyship," Sterling murmured, once we were through.
I glanced up at him. "They barred you entry when you came here alone?"
"No. Nothing so honest as that." His mouth
thinned. "They simply made me go through an inspection. It lasted half
an hour. I'd have preferred they told me plainly that I wasn't welcome."
I stared at him. "You are the commander of the Great Wall."
"So I informed them. They insisted it was simple procedure."
I had nothing to say to that. But it did make
me get a good inkling of just how Julian was planning to manage
something as egregious as this.
The Greenward District looked exactly as it
had the last time I came here. Every corner still carried its floral
scent. The Magical Implements still burned a bright and proud emerald,
the kind of green that made the anemic blue of my own District look like
a candle guttering in comparison.
It was beautiful. It was also occupied.
Men in dark steel-grey armor stood at every
other crossing. Some worked in pairs. Others held checkpoints in squads
of four, inspecting carts and questioning anyone carrying a weapon.
A merchant’s cart had been pulled to the side
of the road ahead of us. Two mercenaries inspected the crates while a
third compared the merchant’s papers against a small ledger. The
merchant waited with his hat held against his chest. Behind him, half a
dozen people had formed a line.
No one complained. The mercenaries were
polite. They did not shout. They did not shove anyone or overturn crates
into the road. When they finished, they replaced the lid they had
removed and waved the merchant through.
They were not what I expected. It would have
been easier if they were thugs hired for coin, like the mercenaries I’d
read about. This was…more complicated. "I wonder what Duke Wardell
thinks of this," I said.
The City Watch was entirely under House
Wardell’s authority. The other Houses could keep guards and protect
their own manors, but maintaining order in the streets belonged to
Wardell alone. House Veyne had some leeway at the wall, where our
responsibilities began. Duke Greenward had none at all.
"Julian claims the men are added protection,"
Sterling said. His tone was so dry it could have turned the flowers to
dust. "To ease House Wardell’s burden."
"A thin excuse," Estovan said from behind us.
"Aye," Sterling said. "But it seems it is thick enough to work here."
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
I doubted very much that Julian had actually
aimed to encroach upon House Wardell’s mandate. It was doubtless more of
a byproduct of what he actually meant to do.
The buildings opened ahead of us. The Great
Wall rose beyond them. Even after everything I had seen, the size of it
remained difficult to accept. It climbed into the sky until I could
barely make out where it ended. From this close, the parapet looked like
the edge of a cliff.
The lift platforms sat at the wall’s base,
each wide enough to carry a squad of soldiers and their equipment. Heavy
chains ran up through stone housings far above. On either side,
fortified towers contained the internal staircases.
The Third Shield had surrounded all of it. A
cordon ran around the lift platforms in a small half-circle. More men
and women guarded both stair towers. There were far more of them here
than on the streets. I counted thirty-seven before I stopped.
I looked up. Click. Click. The world
zoomed into focus, and I saw, with sight better than anyone else’s,
that the parapet was bare. I had known it would be, of course. Seeing it
so still infuriated me.
"I see you did not exaggerate," I said.
"I try not to, My Lady. They inspected each
man on his way down. Once the last was off the platform, they closed the
cordon. The replacement shift was turned away."
"And every other passageway remains barred, I take it?"
The Count dipped his head.
A wall built to protect an entire city had
stood empty for hours because Julian Greenward had found a clever way to
stop men at the bottom of a staircase and at the entrance of a lift.
"What about crossing along the wall from the Veyne District?" I asked.
"It can be done," Sterling said. "The nearest
uncontested access is several miles along the parapet. The men could
make the walk. Then, when their rotation ended, they would walk those
same miles back before the next could begin. Supplies and heavier
equipment would likely still need the lifts."
"So the blockade is not technically complete." I stared up at the wall. Perhaps it not being complete was the entire point. This had been done very carefully.
Julian had not placed a single one of his
soldiers on the wall. Neither had the Third Shield. If he had, he would
have directly breached House Veyne’s mandate. The language of our
charter was plain enough that even a blind man could not pretend
otherwise.
Sterling looked at me and waited. He really
thought I could solve this then. No, he counted on me to solve this.
This wasn’t a test of any kind. It was simply him asking his superior to
fulfill his duty. That somehow both made it better and worse at the
same time.
I turned to the others. "Wait here." Violet
and Damian stepped forward anyway. "All of you," I said. "I want to talk
to them, and I want to do it alone. That is all."
Violet's jaw set. "You serious?"
"I just plan to talk," I said, "and see if they'll bar my way too." Besides, it wasn’t like I was actually alone. Sere would be somewhere close by.
Violet huffed and folded her arms. Damian,
after a moment, nodded, though he did not look happy about it. Estovan
inclined his head. "We will be right here, My Lady."
I turned and walked toward the line. Every mercenary watched me approach.
When I was within six feet, one of them
called out. He was a short, wiry man, and his voice was steady enough.
"Halt. Passage beyond this point is barred to all outsiders, save those
who bear the seal of Lord Julian Greenward himself."
I stopped and tilted my head. "This assignment is beyond your jurisdiction. You are currently barring me entry to my wall."
The man’s eyes flicked past me, toward
Sterling and the others. His grip shifted again. I stepped forward. He
raised one hand. "Sorry, lass. No entry beyond this point."
Another of them leaned in and whispered to the first.
Click. Click.
The world sharpened, and their voices came to me clear over the ordinary noise of the street.
"-hey. Ain't that the one? The Hero?"
"Shit, you really think so? Wait- fuck. She really is."
I sighed. So they hadn't recognized me. Well,
now that they knew who I was, perhaps this would become easier. I
stepped forward again. The wiry man did not move. His hand remained
raised. Some of the color had left his face, but the line behind him
held exactly as it had before.
"Hero or not," he said, far more formally than before, "I’m afraid we cannot allow you to take another step, My Lady."
Vaelin pulled. My right arm twitched toward
my hip. There was no hilt there, not until I summoned the blade, but my
fingers reached anyway. The Godblade’s eagerness pressed through me. One
swing and I could cut through this blockage like paper.
But I remembered what had happened the last
time I had lost my temper. For a guard who didn’t bother to look at his
Lady when he answered her. Perhaps Julian was hoping for another story. I
would be a true idiot to give him one.
A man broke through the line from behind. He
was tall, though not as tall as Sterling. He had a bald head, a square
jaw and a face covered in old scars. One ran from his temple to the edge
of his mouth. Another crossed the bridge of his nose. His armor was the
same dark steel-grey as the others, save for a single line of gold
running down the center of his breastplate. A medal had been pinned
above his heart. A dull silver shield divided into three parts.
"And who might you be?" I asked.
"I am Ser Wallace Strong. I lead the Third
Shield." The man looked at me, and from his gaze alone I could tell that
he knew who I was. He gave me no bows.
"And I am Esra Veyne," I said. "The acting
head of House Veyne." I pointed past him at the wall. "And that is my
wall. The wall you are keeping my men from."
He looked back over his shoulder at the wall, and then at me again. "And?"
I raised an eyebrow. "And I would like them to have the access that is their right."
Wallace folded his arms over his chest. "Our
orders are to screen anyone attempting to pass this position. We have
been hired by House Greenward. We will follow the instructions we were
given."
"House Greenward did not have the authority
to give those instructions," I said. "Which means what you're doing runs
against the city's own laws. I would think a man who leads a company
like yours would know how thin a footing that is."
Wallace shook his head slowly. "Noble
politics are none of my concern. All I will tell you is that I hold a
writ bearing the necessary seals. So I will let no one through. And
should someone try to force their way, we will stop them."
I held out my hand. "Show me."
Something almost like amusement moved through his face. "You expect me to hand our orders to you?"
"Then does said writ bear only Greenward’s seal? He has no authority over civic matters."
The man shrugged. "Like I said, noble
politics are none of my concern. I have a writ, and I am here to enforce
it. Apologies if that makes your life difficult. We will not allow
anyone to just force themselves through." He looked down at me, though I
got the impression there was no actual malice behind the gaze.
I looked up at him. "And if the person trying to force their way through were a Hero?"
The men behind him glanced at one another.
Wallace did not. "Then I suspect we will die at our posts," he said. "Or
perhaps we might prevail. Who is to say? We are not weak."
"Rather bold words," I said, "for a man whose loyalty is bought with coin."
"Do not compare us with other mercenary
bands, My Lady. The Third Shield values its reputation more than its
lives." From the way he said it, I could tell he actually meant it.
Oddly, I found myself liking the man. He had
stared down a Hero who had a decent chance of killing him, and he did
not so much as blink. I could respect that, even if I found this entire situation thoroughly annoying.
I looked up at that bare wall. The obstacle
remained. Every hour that wall remained unmanned was an hour we were
fortunate no disaster had happened yet. And when one inevitably did, it
wouldn’t be Julian Greenward who would get dragged through the papers.
He had bought enough of them to be sure of that.
It was rather clever, all things considered.
Some part of Julian might have even been afraid to be surrounded by our
House’s men on all sides. Julian was paranoid enough for a thought like
that. Though, this felt like more than just paranoia.
It was a shield and a spear in one. A clever ploy. I couldn’t see any way to cut through it that didn’t cost me. Damn it. I felt Vaelin’s annoyance mirror my own. Just how am I going to solve this?
Hooves struck stone behind me. By the time I
turned, a green-and-gold carriage was rolling to a stop beyond my
waiting companions.
Julian Greenward stepped down from it. He was
smiling, and the smile reached his eyes. "Well, Lady Veyne. You should
have told me you were visiting. I would have made a more prepared host,"
he said, looking across at me.
And behind him, stepped down Cordelia. She
met my gaze for only a moment, before she looked away again. Her posture
was perfect. Her smile was perfect. The ring on her finger did not
move. Something in my chest pulled at the sight of her.
I looked at Julian again. Then I looked at
his carriage, at the green and the gold and the light it held. It was
rather remarkable timing. It seemed Julian was prepared plenty.