Ghostwalker - Erik Scott De Bie [42]
"You're still here," he said.
"I am." Unddreth, not prone to fidgeting, gazed at him stonily.
"There is more?" Greyt asked.
"Speaker Stonar left the city in your hands," Unddreth said. "Thus, when an event transpires that threatens the welfare of the city, it is your responsibility to deal with it, is it not?"
"And I have," Greyt said, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. "I want you and your soldiers to find this attacker and kill him. Or her. Or it. Just do what you are paid to do."
Dim-witted Unddreth. Greyt scowled. Are you as stupid as you look?
"We must inform Speaker Stonar of the event," Unddreth said.
Not stupid then, Greyt decided. He should have foreseen the suggestion.
He didn't miss a beat, though. "So send to the druids to communicate with their magic," he said dismissively. "They may not be under our control, but they will aid us."
"I already have," Unddreth said. "Something blocks their magic, some barrier they cannot pierce."
"Probably another of their foolish excuses-a damned equinox or something," Greyt said quickly. It was plausible, after all. Quaervarr was a frontier town in every sense: unless matters were really out of hand, the people preferred to settle their own problems, without help from the High Lady or her armies of mages. The druids would expect no less from the Watch. "Or it's a sacred time for their gods, or perhaps the guild of Silverymoon has better things to do than listen to our minor complaints-"
"So we must send a courier," Unddreth said.
"I'm sure that's not necessary," Greyt said with a shrug as if he meant to forget the whole thing. "As you said, it is only one man. Some independent town we would be if we ran to Silverymoon with our troubles every time a lunatic crops up. How much trouble can one man be? Take a few of your best soldiers and scour the Moonwood for him."
Unddreth hesitated, but finally nodded. "As you command, Lord Singer," he said curtly. Turning on his heel, the genasi strode out of the ballroom.
Greyt watched his retreating form for a long moment, tracing with his eyes the image of the white stag emblazoned upon the huge shield Unddreth wore on his back.
"As I command," he repeated to himself with a grin. He liked the sound of that.
* * * * *
Wrapped in steel, Arya was approaching the front doors of her uncle's manor when they flew open and the hulking Unddreth stamped out. His face was even harder than usual. She dropped into a light bow.
"Well met, Captain Unddreth," she said.
The genasi's frown turned to a soft smile when he saw her, and Arya was acutely aware of her appearance. Her silver armor gleamed and her auburn hair burned in the soft light. Shining on her breast, the badge of the Knights in Silver-a clasp with the sigil of Silverymoon-secured a deep blue cloak around her shoulders. Arya knew Unddreth admired her simple elegance, and embarrassed warmth blossomed in her cheeks.
"Good morning to you, Lady Venkyr," Unddreth said. He gestured to the sword belted at her hip. "Going about armed, are you?"
She smiled shakily. "One can never be too careful," she said in reply.
"True." He patted the warhammer at his own belt. "Very true."
His face was still stony. Something about his voice, though, told Arya that he was thinking about the audience with Greyt he had just left. He perked up, though, when he caught her staring.
"Thank you for your assistance last night," he said. "I hope it is clear that any momentary hesitation or doubts about your abilities-or loyalties-have been put to rest."
"It is, Captain," Arya said. "I serve the Silver Marches, so I serve Quaervarr as well."
Unddreth bowed his head then plodded on his way.
Arya nodded, smiling as he went. She had read the characters of many people in her time with the Knights in Silver, and she knew that there went a just and noble soldier.
As Unddreth walked farther away, though, Arya looked back to Greyt's doors and her smile vanished. She turned smartly on her heel and headed to the portal, where she rapped