for us, or the
clientele here is better connected than I had realized."
"Saves us the trouble of worrying about dinner.
No nobleman would be crass enough to summon us at dinner hour and not provide a
meal."
"Davin is no nobleman. He is the king's scribe.
I assume he just asked the favor of a carriage. He has no money for one
himself."
"Being the king's scribe must pay well,"
Soria said.
"For a scribe perhaps," Brannis replied.
He was just about to buckle on his sword belt when he thought better of it. He
wrapped the belt around the sheath and handed the bundle to Soria.
"What do I want with that thing? I feel safer
fighting without a weapon that I could cut myself in half with."
"Ward it up in one of the dresser
drawers," Brannis told her. "If we end up at the palace, I would
rather it be safely here than held by the king's guards."
Soria's own blades were already stored in one of the
drawers beneath a stack of finery. She tried several times to fit Avalanche
inside as well but abandoned the effort with a sigh.
"It won't fit. I can't ward it in," she
said. Brannis was about to say something but she raised her hand. "And no,
I can't make the sword smaller or the drawer bigger. Go ask Caladris if you
want that sort of magic."
"You mean Lord Harwick."
"I meant Caladris," Soria replied,
sticking her tongue out at Brannis as punctuation.
Brannis looked about the room. Finding no other
suitable place to stash the sword, he unsheathed it. Holding the blade
carefully by the hilt and near the tip, he hopped, blade held overhead. He let
it go just above one of the dark-stained rafters, buckled and looped the sword
belt around the blade, and balanced the sheath as best he could upon the
rafter.
"Best I can think of on short notice,"
Brannis said.
"Yeah ... come on, military genius. We've gotta
go."
Brannis thought better of protesting as she took the
lead down the stairs to meet the carriage. The narrow stairwell forced them
single file. This is my errand ... my friend. Why does she seem to always
lead the way?
A footman greeted them and informed them that Expert
Davin would indeed be receiving them at the palace. Soria shook loose of his
attempt to help her into the carriage, and Brannis climbed in behind her with a
nod of apology for her unladylike behavior.
As the carriage rumbled off into the streets of
Golis, Brannis looked out the window. They were not going back the way that he
and Soria had come. Brannis had thought it to be the quickest way from the
palace.
"Excuse me, but is this a better way to reach
the palace?" Brannis called out to the driver.
"Expert Davin requested I give you a bit of a
show about the city, if you please," the driver informed them. "Lots
of history he said you'd appreciate, and I know my way around well as
any."
Brannis beamed at Soria.
"Of course," she answered, rolling her
eyes. She leaned in close to Brannis. "This is the man who was like a
father to you?" she asked in a whisper. Brannis nodded, still smiling.
"I’m beginning to see where you got your tastes."
* * * * * * *
*
Soria was fidgeting by the time the carriage pulled
through the palace gates. Brannis knew that the tour of Golis was of little
interest to her. Having seen the mighty cities of Khesh and Takalia and living
in the vastness of Kadris, Soria must have found local trivia frightfully
boring. She had perked up when their driver had taken them back through Temple
Square, and had known more about the old gods than just their names and
likenesses. After that she had become disinterested.
Brannis had thought to take her to the museum before
they left Golis, but when they had passed by it, she slouched in her seat and
did not so much as look at it. Saved me a half day of boring her, I suppose .
Once they arrived at the palace, the footman left
them in a small sitting room with tea. The furnishings were sturdy and of fine
quality, but not ornate—the tea set was pewter, the rug a simple pattern of
local styling,
Unknown
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