City of Towers_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [7]
The gate to which Daine and his companions came was manned by a burly dwarf whose beard resembled a patch of black thorns. “You don’t look like you’re from these parts,” he growled. He studied Pierce and then fixed on Daine’s rank insignia. “Mourners, are you? Serves you right, you ask me.” He nodded up toward the statue of Wroann, the queen whose rebellion had started the Last War. “Stand against Breland, and see what it gets you.”
Jode stepped forward before Daine could speak. “I see that little escapes your keen eyes, sergeant. I take it you’ve encountered Mourners before, hmm?”
The dwarf studied him carefully. Jode’s dragonmark was spread across the top of his head—and a dragonmark usually meant power and wealth.
“That’s right. High Walls is lousy with ’em. Used to be where they kept traitors. Some would say it still is.”
Again, Jode interjected before Daine could speak. “Well, it’s a simple mistake to make, but ours is no simple tale, sir. Yes, Lord Daine wears the dress of a Cyran soldier, but there is far more here than meets the eye. Allow me to introduce the Lady Lei, heir to the Mark of Making.”
Lei curtsied and extended her hand, revealing her Cannith signet ring. The dwarf examined the ring closely.
“Lady Lei is betrothed to Lord Hadran d’Cannith, whose name I certainly hope you recognize. As any child could tell you, House Cannith had its seat of power in the confines of Cyre, and after the disaster, Lord Hadran wished to ensure the safety of his beloved. Thus he hired the three of us—Lord Daine, a master swordsman trained by the Blademark of House Deneith; Pierce, a stalwart warforged warrior handcrafted by my lady’s parents to ensure the safety of their only daughter; and myself, Jode d’Jorasco, a healer without equal.”
Minutes passed as Jode wove his tale, describing the great dangers the trio had faced in their hunt for the lost Cannith heir. The dwarf stood spellbound as Jode recounted the battle with the warped warforged and the living darkness. A blackcloaked woman wearing the badge of a captain came over and rapped him on the side of the head, snapping him out of the daze. “Horas! Process this lot and move on! You’re holding up the line!”
The dwarf blinked and shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “Uh, yes … yes. Sorry. Just … make a mark here on the ledger and you can be on your way. I trust you’re not bringing dangerous materials into the city? Pyrotechnics, dragon’s blood, dreamlily?”
“I do have three warforged in my pack,” Lei said. “Is that a problem?” Jode sighed.
“In your … May I see them, please, Lady d’Cannith?”
Lei took off her pack and unfolded the funnel-shaped cloth cone at the top. “Pierce, do you mind?”
A murmur ran through the waiting crowd as the massive warforged warrior crawled into the tiny backpack. A moment later he emerged, dragging the battered body of a small warforged scout.
“All three are inert,” Lei explained. “I haven’t had time to see if they can be restored, but we found them during our travels, and I wanted to return them to the house.”
“I … see.” Clearly Cannith heirs transporting damaged warforged were not a part of this guard’s daily routine. “You … you can go about your business, my lady. Enjoy your visit to Sharn.”
Lei smiled as Pierce pushed the wounded warforged back into her extraordinary pack. “Thank you, sergeant,” she said. “I’m sure I will.”
Once they were safely out of earshot of the guards, Jode turned to Lei, shaking his head. Pierce and Daine were straggling behind, their eyes turned skyward to the towers, awnings, bridges, and buildings that stretched upward and out of sight.
“My Lady Lei,” said Jode, “there really was no need to mention the warforged at all. I had the situation well in hand.”
“I’ve always wondered if you had formal ties to House Jorasco, Jode. Why don’t you ever talk about it?”
“I made that up, my lady. I had the sense that our sergeant would be more impressed by the emissaries of a powerful house as opposed to a few ‘Mourners’ in