Chapter Sixteen
Custom officials were waiting to inspect our ship after we had docked, coming on board as soon as the gangplank was in place. They cast superior looks at the provincials from the northern marches, only to do double takes so fast that I could hear the snaps as their heads whipped back around. They clumped together on the deck as we left the ship, rubbing their necks and staring at the Faena.
I saw firsthand the unpretentiousness of Dornel. As we left to call on the city’s garrison commander, we passed people pushing wheelbarrows up the dock to our ship. Some were ordinary folk while others wore livery and had other signs of service to the rich and mighty.
“Manure, Lieutenant Rabbit,” Captain Javes said, riding beside me.
“Pardon, sir?”
Javes waved a hand at the line. “They are here for the horse manure on our ship.” Captain Suiden had decided that, as we were horse soldiers, we should ride to the garrison. I looked down at my mount, wondering what was so special about his droppings that people would line up for them.
“They use it for gardens and other shrubbery,” Javes said.
“Well, yes. Of course, sir. But surely the city has plenty of its own.”
“The people of Dornel firmly believe in waste not, want not.”
“Ha, ha, sir.”
Javes’ mouth tightened against a smile for a moment. “They feel it’s better to shovel it on their flowers and vegetables than throw it in the river. After all, the fish have no use for it. A very neat and thrifty people.” I cast a glance back at the ship. Ryson was going to be very busy.
“They’re self-sufficient too,” Groskin said from in back of us, where he rode next to Slevoic. “Enough is grown within the city’s walls to feed all the residents.” We entered Dornel proper via the Rivergate, the wide-eyed guards thrusting people aside to let us through. “There are even underground cisterns that fill up when the river runs high during the spring melt,” Groskin continued. “Sluice gates draw off the surplus to other reservoirs. The city has a plentiful supply of fresh water at all times.”
“Why make themselves so siege-proof?” Laurel asked, walking beside Suiden’s horse in front. He ignored the gasps and cries of those who pressed away from him.
“There used to be pirates who raided along this stretch of the Banson, sir,” Groskin said.
“Didn’t you say, Lieutenant, that the raiding had started again?” Suiden asked.
Groskin frowned. “Yes, sir.” He saw my questioning look. “My family is from around here, Rabbit, and they’ve written that pirate sightings and raids have become almost commonplace in the last few years.” Laurel looked around. “I see no signs of attacks here, honored lieutenant.” Groskin shrugged as he also looked around. “For some reason this time around they haven’t tried Dornel itself, but my father says that he has a friend whose cousin’s son’s wife’s brother was in a settlement that the pirates laid siege to not far from here.”
“So deep in the kingdom?” Laurel asked.
“Yes, sir,” Groskin said. “The garrison troops and river patrols are sent out to search for them, but they disappear like magic—uh, mysteriously, Ambassador.”
There was a bubble around us as we rode through the streets of Dornel and the commotion that started at the gate followed us into the city. Folk would look up, casual at first, then more intent as they realized that Laurel was not wearing a costume. And he wasn’t our prisoner. And he carried a really big stick. He smiled at something the captain said, his canines gleaming white. The bubble widened to include most of the street, and I wasn’t surprised a little later when mounted soldiers appeared ahead of us, bristling with things that had sharp edges.
“I think we should halt here and make no sudden moves,” Captain Suiden said, reining in his horse. We did likewise and waited for the men to approach.
“Lieutenant Jaxtir of the Dornel garrison, Dornel Patrol.” The lead soldier raised his helm’s visor and saluted. The men behind him kept theirs lowered and weapons out.
“Captain Suiden of the Freston garrison.” Suiden saluted back. “Is there a problem, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir. What is that?” Lieutenant Jaxtir pointed at Laurel.
“He is Ambassador Laurel. I’m sure your commander has received orders regarding his journey to Iversly.”
“They said nothing about it coming in my city.”
“You’re privy to your commander’s dispatches?”
Lieutenant Jaxtir shifted his shield. “He shared them with his staff.”
“I see.”
I watched the light play off Jaxtir’s shield, and folded my lips together tight.
“Are you barring us, Lieutenant?”
Jaxtir shifted again. The shield shimmered in the sun and I bit the inside of my lip, drawing blood.
“No, sir. Not you, Captain—” Jaxtir began.
“As I am sure King Jusson and his Lord Commander would both be very interested in a lieutenant taking upon himself to refuse passage to an ambassador to his court.” Jaxtir’s shield flashed green and blue. Something tried to come up my throat and I swallowed it back down, hard. I must have made a sound, though, as Captain Javes looked at me, then faced Jaxtir again, lifting his quiz glass. The shield turned purple.
Lieutenant Jaxtir did some inspired thinking. “Perhaps this should go before the commander, Captain Suiden.”
“What should go before your commander?” the captain asked. “You gainsaying us?”
Maybe not so inspired. The lieutenant’s eyes shifted to Laurel, whose ears were laid back on his skull. “If you would follow me, sir, I’ll escort you to the commander.”
“Thank you.” Captain Suiden nodded. “Ambassador Laurel, if you would, please?”
We started moving again.
“I wonder if you have seen our traveling companion, Doyen Allwyn of Gresh,” Suiden said.
We stopped moving.
“A doyen from Gresh is traveling with you,” Lieutenant Jaxtir said, his voice flat.
“He’s going to Iversly to meet with the patriarch,” Captain Suiden said. “I’m sure the letters with his itinerary were on the mail boat that passed us a few days ago.” The captain paused. “He has gone to pay his respects to the Dornel doyen.”
“Doyen Orso.” Jaxtir made a rough gesture to start his men moving again.
“Oh, is he still doyen here?” Captain Suiden indicated that we were to start moving too. “He’s a relative of yours, isn’t he, Lieutenant Groskin?”
“More of a connection, sir,” Groskin replied. “Through some cousins’ marriages, though as a child I called him uncle. I asked Doyen Allwyn to tell him that I was here. I’d hoped I could see him later.”
“I’m sure that can be arranged, Lieutenant.”
Jaxtir rode a little ahead of Suiden, and the way he was positioned kept me from seeing his shield, but I kept darting glances towards it, like probing a bad tooth. Apparently, though, Captain Javes’ view was unrestricted.
“I say, Lieutenant Jaxtir, that’s an interesting shield you have there. What is it made of?”
Jaxtir glanced over his shoulder at Laurel. “Lizard skin, uh, Captain.”
Bloody liar, I thought.
“Oh, I’m terribly sorry.” Javes gave his silly ass smile. “I’m Captain Javes, also of the Freston garrison. These are Lieutenants Slevoic, Groskin and Lord Rabbit ibn Chause e Flavan.” We stopped again as Lieutenant Jaxtir turned his horse around to stare at me. I smiled, showing my teeth, and watched the lieutenant’s shield, now in front of me, flash delicate pink.
“He’s going to see the king in Iversly, too, and whatever relatives may be hanging about.” Lieutenant Jaxtir’s mouth parted in consternation. That last revelation must have put the last nail in the coffin of any plan to have us waylaid in an alley by thieves and cutthroats.