The mercenary assessed the Centaur before he gestured to his men. “Check the wagon.”
I did my best to remain calm as the men climbed in behind us. Matt leaned into me.It’s too miserable a night for them to pull everything out for a look.
I glanced at Talakai, who stood beneath a tree and pulled his cloak tighter, his body language indicating he was wet and miserable and cared little for what transpired. The guards all stared at Mari as they passed her, but I noticed they gave her a wide berth. Her hood was down, the water cascading over her craggy features.
We heard chests being opened inside the wagon. My stomach clenched, but Matt was right—they didn’t move any of them to dig for the deeper ones.
Moments later, the guards climbed out again and reported to their captain, who was already sopping wet. “Just metalsmith stuff,” one told him.
“Any weapons?”
“Knives. Nothing longer than eight inches,” another said.
The captain regarded Emmanuel. “Is that right?”
“Other than my guards’ weapons,” the Centaur agreed.
“Your knives any good?” The glance the mercenary gave the Centaur was filled with calculation.
Emmanuel strode around the back of the wagon and emerged a few moments later with a long knife in an ornate sheath. He handed it over.
“I make damned good knives,” he stated.
The mercenary drew the knife and turned it this way, and that, before sliding it along his chest plate. He nodded at the resulting slice with satisfaction and clipped the sheath to his belt before glancing at Talakai and Mari. “They’ll have to surrender their weapons. They can pick them up when you leave.” He regarded Talakai. “And no shifting while inside the town.”
Just what is he going to do about it if the Dragon decides to go beast?Matt wondered.
Good question.I watched as Talakai and Mari complied. Talakai appeared unconcerned, Mari relieved.
The guards, meanwhile, hurried to swing the gate open.
From beneath his dripping hood, Matt offered me a lopsided smile.
We’re in,he said.
* * *
The town’s energy set my teeth on edge.
The captain’s non-shifting rule clearly only applied to us. Dires in full fur prowled the streets, their glowing gazes watching as we rolled by. Beneath wooden awnings that cascaded rain, hard eyes measured us from cloaked forms. Signs of upheaval were everywhere. Mercenaries sported bandaged arms and limped as they carried packs to sodden animals.
As expected, Galeran is pulling out,Talakai noted.
This place feels like it’s been under siege,I noted with a shudder.He hasn’t been kind to the residents.
I caught furtive glimpses of faces pressed against windows.
Where are the Bellatis?Matt asked.
They won’t hang out with the mercenaries,Talakai stated.Not their style. They’ll be with Galeran.
Emmanuel took us straight through town to the obvious center of activity—a building with mercenaries stuffing supplies into packs beneath the awning. On the way, I noted the profusion of smaller animals skulking in the alleyways or walking among the throngs. They were many and varied, and it meant that Trix would probably be ignored. Which was perfect.
Not so perfect were the many hard, assessing eyes on us as we approached.
Emmanuel went about his business as though they didn’t exist. He took hold of his closest Trantil’s bridle and guided the animals to an alley entrance, where he unhitched them from the wagon and tied them to one of the many posts available. Then he unfolded the extra awnings and unhooked the wooden sides while Matt and I hauled portable displays out from the back.
I let Trix happily sniff around, getting those watching accustomed to her presence. Then I sent her deeper into the alley, so I could see things through her eyes—particularly where the lane merged with the road.
