City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [57]
Daine glanced over at Lei, but she remained silent.
“And you, Daine?” Greykell pointed at his sword, with the blazing Eye of Deneith emblazoned on the pommel. “Do you carry the Mark of Sentinel?”
Thank you, Captain Grazen, Daine thought. “No,” he said. “I lost my sword during our travels, and this is a gift from a friend.”
For a time, the conversation turned to the powers and limitations of Jode’s dragonmark. Teral was interested in what he could do. Could he restore Olalia’s jaw? What sort of parasites could he destroy? Greykell was more interested in the immediate civic applications of his abilities, and Jode agreed to work with the local healer Hulda to try to identify and help those refugees with the most serious problems.
After the meal was done, Sallea thanked Jode again and took her grandson off to bed. One of the twins left—Daine couldn’t remember which one it was. Looking across the table, he noticed that Lei and the other twin were still deep in conversation—a little too deep for his tastes.
“Monan,” Daine said, “shouldn’t you be going now?”
The man laughed—a sound Daine was beginning to hate. “It’s Hugal.” He put a hand on Lei’s shoulder. “And it’s been such a lovely conversation.”
“We must be going,” Daine said. “Lei, Jode …”
“One moment,” Jode said. “Councilor Teral, if I may ask—you are fairly familiar with the comings and goings in High Walls, yes?”
Teral nodded. “Why do you ask?”
“Have you seen this man, by any chance?” Jode produced one of Alina’s sketches, folded to hide the writing. He pushed it to the center of the table, and both Hugal and Teral examined it. “His name is Rasial.”
“Is he Cyran?” Teral said, frowning.
“No. Brelish. But he had family in Cyre. One of his cousins served in our unit and died at Keldan Ridge. We just need to deliver a message.”
Teral studied the parchment for a moment. “No, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
Hugal just shook his head and laughed.
“He does look somewhat familiar,” Greykell said. “Are you sure you haven’t seen him, Hugal?” The twin shrugged. “Hmm. Perhaps it was Monan, then.”
“Well, it was worth a try.” Jode picked up the sheet of parchment and stood up. “Shall we, my friends?”
Greykell stood, and without warning she wrapped Daine in a crushing embrace. She had the strength of a bear. “Well met, Daine, Lei! Jode, I’ll expect to see you tomorrow.”
After he’d caught his breath, Daine nodded. “Good night, Captain. And thank you again, Lord Teral. Let me know if we can be of service.”
“Don’t worry, Daine. I certainly shall.”
The four soldiers gathered their belongings. The serving girl, Olalia, had emerged to clear the table, and Daine noticed that she was staring at Jode. Her marble teeth glittered in the torchlight, and then she disappeared behind a flap of cloth.
Night had fallen long ago. Shadows stretched across the streets, punctuated by pools of light from the cold fire torches as they made their way back to the Manticore. Pierce had slung his bow across his back and was carrying his long flail. The chain swung slightly as he walked. He found the motion was relaxing, steady, predictable.
“It was nice to see a few friendly faces,” Lei said.
“Some a little too friendly, if you ask me,” Daine grumbled.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Jode said.
“What do you mean?”
“Hugal … he’d seen Rasial before. I’m sure of it. I was watching him, and there was a definite reaction.”
“Interesting,” Daine said. “We’ll track him down in the morning. Pierce, are you all right? You didn’t say a word at dinner.”
Pierce raised his flail, causing the chain to wind around the haft. “There seemed little to say, Captain. Though I wonder at Greykell’s words. If she believes that it is a mistake for you to wear your uniform because it is a symbol of the war, what am I to do?” Pierce had been built to serve in the Cyran military, and the symbols of his service were engraved into his torso. “War is my purpose. If the world must forget the war, what place is there for me?”
Even the usually glib Jode had no answer to this.