City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [38]
“Compliments of Captain Grazen,” she replied. “He said you’d lost your own blade.” It was a beautiful weapon, even in the scabbard.
Lei glanced at the weapon and frowned. “Daine, why …?”
He followed her gaze and saw the eye-in-the-sun sigil of House Deneith engraved on the pommel, glittering in the light of the cold fire.
“It belonged to an old friend,” he said. “Apparently he doesn’t have a use for it any more.” He considered handing it back to the servant, but a sword was a sword. Scowling, he buckled on the harness. “Now let’s get out of here.”
Wearing a Cyran uniform cloak to a Brelish garrison wasn’t one of Daine’s better ideas—not that it was his plan. Even though they weren’t in chains, Daine’s uniform was drawing unwanted attention, and they moved swiftly through the streets towards the closest lift.
“I think it might be worthwhile to spend a few sovereigns on new clothes, Daine,” Jode said.
Daine scowled. He knew Jode was right, but he hated the thought of setting aside the uniform. The war was over, and Cyre was no more, but as long as he wore the uniform, the nation still existed in his heart.
They walked most of the way in silence, each lost in his or her own thoughts. Pierce approached Daine and spoke quietly. “This situation troubles me, Captain.”
“What is it?”
“You say that we were brought here because this watch captain knew who you were, that he wished to give you a warning.”
And to gloat, Daine thought, but he kept it to himself. “Yes?”
“How did he know your identity? According to your story, the injured guard only saw you for a few minutes, and you never spoke your name. Yet this watch captain committed a significant force to apprehend you for what was apparently a nonexistent crime.” It was just like Pierce to cut to the point of an issue. Many of the social aspects of human behavior were still an enigma to the warforged soldier. But he had fought for Cyre for almost thirty years, and his sense of tactics was at least as sharp as Daine’s.
“You’re right,” Daine said, “and it seems as if they knew where to find us.”
“Could you have been betrayed by our employer? This … Alina?”
Would she do something like that? Daine let his thoughts drift back, reflecting on his two years in her service. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t see what she would stand to gain.”
“If you aren’t certain this woman can be trusted, why are we working for her?”
“It’s not that simple, Pierce. We’re on our own now. Alina’s offering a great deal of gold, and we need money if we’re going to survive. I know it’s not something you need to think about, but most of us need to eat and drink, and after years of that gruel I’d like to be able to eat something with some flavor. We need shelter and security. And I want to get my sword back!” His voice rose with the last sentence. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
“Is that so important?” Pierce asked. “The sword you have been given is of similar quality and design. It appears to be almost identical. Why do you need to reclaim your first sword?”
“It’s not about function. That sword was a gift from my grandfather. It was the blade he carried into battle, and it’s all I have left of him. It’s the memory, not the weapon.”
If Pierce had been human, he might have shrugged. As it was, he paused for a moment, then continued speaking. “If not Alina, what about Lei’s Uncle Jura? It was his request that led us to Malleon’s Gate. Could it have been a trap of some sort?”
“He would have known we were there, but I still don’t see the motive. And the guard captain, Grazen, there’s nothing I can see that would connect him to Jura. Perhaps it is just a coincidence.”
“Perhaps.” Pierce fell silent. His mithral-steel faceplate was impossible to read, as impassive as any statue or helmet.
They reached the lift a few minutes later. “Good riddance,” the lift guard muttered when he saw Daine.
“I’m staying here,” Jode announced as they got ready to board. “We still need to investigate Rasial, and