Count Sterling’s letter had been short and to the point. Men belonging to a mercenary company called the Third Shield had taken control of every entrance to the wall inside the Greenward District. At the morning shift change, Sterling’s soldiers had been permitted to descend, as they always were. Their replacements had not been allowed up.
The final line had read: The wall is presently unmanned. I await your instructions. I had read the letter twice, asked Anias to send a reply, and left Veyne Manor before the ink on that reply had dried.
I could have taken a carriage. Anias had suggested it, and the distance was certainly long enough to justify one. But a carriage would have sent the wrong message entirely. So I walked, and I let the whole District watch me do it.
The acting head of House Veyne walking toward her own wall with its commander at her side, the First Sword and two heirs behind her, and six armed soldiers following in formation looked like a procession. Unfortunately, everyone else appeared to have realized this too.
People stopped to stare as we passed. Merchants leaned out of their shops. A pair of boys abandoned a ball in the middle of the road and pointed at me until their mother seized them both by their collars. A woman on the opposite pavement bowed. The man beside her did not.
"The Hero," someone whispered.
"That’s really her?"
"She’s smaller than she looked in the picture."
That last one was becoming particularly annoying.
I could have turned my hearing down. The knob sat inside my mind, waiting for the slightest touch. A single click and all the whispers would have faded into something distant and unimportant. I left them alone.
If I was going to parade myself through the District, then the least I could do was hear what the people watching thought of it.
Count Roderick Sterling walked beside me. He was exactly as I remembered him, which was to say very tall and very broad. Grey had crept farther into his short hair since I had last seen him, or perhaps I simply hadn’t noticed it before. After my first inspection of the wall, we had only corresponded through letters.
When he caught me looking, he tipped his head. It was a small thing, barely more than a nod. I was fairly certain it was meant to be respectful, and I was more certain still that he would have done the same whether or not I was a Hero.
"And they call themselves the Third Shield?" I asked. "A rather odd name."
"There is a history to that name." Sterling’s eyes stayed on the road ahead. "But most mercenary bands have peculiar names."
Behind us, Violet and Damian were arguing. They had been arguing since we’d left the manor. "All I’m saying," Violet said, "is that we should go through them. Who the hell do they think they are?"
"That's exactly what he wants," Damian said. "Come on. All you need to do is think about this for more than two seconds."
"I am thinking. I'm thinking it'd be fun."
I did not say anything. Damian was saying the sensible thing, but Violet might have been saying the practical thing instead. I would just have to go and see for myself.
The crossing between the Veyne and Greenward Districts had three times the guards I remembered. They eyed us as we approached. One of them actually moved to step in front of me. Another caught him by the arm and pulled him back, shaking his head, and the young man went pale and returned to his post. We passed through without a word spoken.
"I suppose that's one benefit of coming here with your Ladyship," Sterling murmured, once we were through.
I glanced up at him. "They barred you entry when you came here alone?"
"No. Nothing so honest as that." His mouth thinned. "They simply made me go through an inspection. It lasted half an hour. I'd have preferred they told me plainly that I wasn't welcome."
I stared at him. "You are the commander of the Great Wall."
"So I informed them. They insisted it was simple procedure."
I had nothing to say to that. But it did make me get a good inkling of just how Julian was planning to manage something as egregious as this.
The Greenward District looked exactly as it had the last time I came here. Every corner still carried its floral scent. The Magical Implements still burned a bright and proud emerald, the kind of green that made the anemic blue of my own District look like a candle guttering in comparison.
It was beautiful. It was also occupied.
Men in dark steel-grey armor stood at every other crossing. Some worked in pairs. Others held checkpoints in squads of four, inspecting carts and questioning anyone carrying a weapon.
A merchant’s cart had been pulled to the side of the road ahead of us. Two mercenaries inspected the crates while a third compared the merchant’s papers against a small ledger. The merchant waited with his hat held against his chest. Behind him, half a dozen people had formed a line.
No one complained. The mercenaries were polite. They did not shout. They did not shove anyone or overturn crates into the road. When they finished, they replaced the lid they had removed and waved the merchant through.
They were not what I expected. It would have been easier if they were thugs hired for coin, like the mercenaries I’d read about. This was…more complicated. "I wonder what Duke Wardell thinks of this," I said.
The City Watch was entirely under House Wardell’s authority. The other Houses could keep guards and protect their own manors, but maintaining order in the streets belonged to Wardell alone. House Veyne had some leeway at the wall, where our responsibilities began. Duke Greenward had none at all.
"Julian claims the men are added protection," Sterling said. His tone was so dry it could have turned the flowers to dust. "To ease House Wardell’s burden."
"A thin excuse," Estovan said from behind us.
"Aye," Sterling said. "But it seems it is thick enough to work here."
I doubted very much that Julian had actually aimed to encroach upon House Wardell’s mandate. It was doubtless more of a byproduct of what he actually meant to do.
The buildings opened ahead of us. The Great Wall rose beyond them. Even after everything I had seen, the size of it remained difficult to accept. It climbed into the sky until I could barely make out where it ended. From this close, the parapet looked like the edge of a cliff.
The lift platforms sat at the wall’s base, each wide enough to carry a squad of soldiers and their equipment. Heavy chains ran up through stone housings far above. On either side, fortified towers contained the internal staircases.
The Third Shield had surrounded all of it. A cordon ran around the lift platforms in a small half-circle. More men and women guarded both stair towers. There were far more of them here than on the streets. I counted thirty-seven before I stopped.
I looked up. Click. Click. The world zoomed into focus, and I saw, with sight better than anyone else’s, that the parapet was bare. I had known it would be, of course. Seeing it so still infuriated me.
"I see you did not exaggerate," I said.
"I try not to, My Lady. They inspected each man on his way down. Once the last was off the platform, they closed the cordon. The replacement shift was turned away."
"And every other passageway remains barred, I take it?"
The Count dipped his head.
A wall built to protect an entire city had stood empty for hours because Julian Greenward had found a clever way to stop men at the bottom of a staircase and at the entrance of a lift.
"What about crossing along the wall from the Veyne District?" I asked.
"It can be done," Sterling said. "The nearest uncontested access is several miles along the parapet. The men could make the walk. Then, when their rotation ended, they would walk those same miles back before the next could begin. Supplies and heavier equipment would likely still need the lifts."
"So the blockade is not technically complete." I stared up at the wall. Perhaps it not being complete was the entire point. This had been done very carefully.
Julian had not placed a single one of his soldiers on the wall. Neither had the Third Shield. If he had, he would have directly breached House Veyne’s mandate. The language of our charter was plain enough that even a blind man could not pretend otherwise.
Sterling looked at me and waited. He really thought I could solve this then. No, he counted on me to solve this. This wasn’t a test of any kind. It was simply him asking his superior to fulfill his duty. That somehow both made it better and worse at the same time.
I turned to the others. "Wait here." Violet and Damian stepped forward anyway. "All of you," I said. "I want to talk to them, and I want to do it alone. That is all."
Violet's jaw set. "You serious?"
"I just plan to talk," I said, "and see if they'll bar my way too." Besides, it wasn’t like I was actually alone. Sere would be somewhere close by.
Violet huffed and folded her arms. Damian, after a moment, nodded, though he did not look happy about it. Estovan inclined his head. "We will be right here, My Lady."
I turned and walked toward the line. Every mercenary watched me approach.
When I was within six feet, one of them called out. He was a short, wiry man, and his voice was steady enough. "Halt. Passage beyond this point is barred to all outsiders, save those who bear the seal of Lord Julian Greenward himself."
I stopped and tilted my head. "This assignment is beyond your jurisdiction. You are currently barring me entry to my wall."
The man’s eyes flicked past me, toward Sterling and the others. His grip shifted again. I stepped forward. He raised one hand. "Sorry, lass. No entry beyond this point."
Another of them leaned in and whispered to the first.
Click. Click.
The world sharpened, and their voices came to me clear over the ordinary noise of the street.
"-hey. Ain't that the one? The Hero?"
"Shit, you really think so? Wait- fuck. She really is."
I sighed. So they hadn't recognized me. Well, now that they knew who I was, perhaps this would become easier. I stepped forward again. The wiry man did not move. His hand remained raised. Some of the color had left his face, but the line behind him held exactly as it had before.
"Hero or not," he said, far more formally than before, "I’m afraid we cannot allow you to take another step, My Lady."
Vaelin pulled. My right arm twitched toward my hip. There was no hilt there, not until I summoned the blade, but my fingers reached anyway. The Godblade’s eagerness pressed through me. One swing and I could cut through this blockage like paper.
But I remembered what had happened the last time I had lost my temper. For a guard who didn’t bother to look at his Lady when he answered her. Perhaps Julian was hoping for another story. I would be a true idiot to give him one.
A man broke through the line from behind. He was tall, though not as tall as Sterling. He had a bald head, a square jaw and a face covered in old scars. One ran from his temple to the edge of his mouth. Another crossed the bridge of his nose. His armor was the same dark steel-grey as the others, save for a single line of gold running down the center of his breastplate. A medal had been pinned above his heart. A dull silver shield divided into three parts.
"And who might you be?" I asked.
"I am Ser Wallace Strong. I lead the Third Shield." The man looked at me, and from his gaze alone I could tell that he knew who I was. He gave me no bows.
"And I am Esra Veyne," I said. "The acting head of House Veyne." I pointed past him at the wall. "And that is my wall. The wall you are keeping my men from."
He looked back over his shoulder at the wall, and then at me again. "And?"
I raised an eyebrow. "And I would like them to have the access that is their right."
Wallace folded his arms over his chest. "Our orders are to screen anyone attempting to pass this position. We have been hired by House Greenward. We will follow the instructions we were given."
"House Greenward did not have the authority to give those instructions," I said. "Which means what you're doing runs against the city's own laws. I would think a man who leads a company like yours would know how thin a footing that is."
Wallace shook his head slowly. "Noble politics are none of my concern. All I will tell you is that I hold a writ bearing the necessary seals. So I will let no one through. And should someone try to force their way, we will stop them."
I held out my hand. "Show me."
Something almost like amusement moved through his face. "You expect me to hand our orders to you?"
"Then does said writ bear only Greenward’s seal? He has no authority over civic matters."
The man shrugged. "Like I said, noble politics are none of my concern. I have a writ, and I am here to enforce it. Apologies if that makes your life difficult. We will not allow anyone to just force themselves through." He looked down at me, though I got the impression there was no actual malice behind the gaze.
I looked up at him. "And if the person trying to force their way through were a Hero?"
The men behind him glanced at one another. Wallace did not. "Then I suspect we will die at our posts," he said. "Or perhaps we might prevail. Who is to say? We are not weak."
"Rather bold words," I said, "for a man whose loyalty is bought with coin."
"Do not compare us with other mercenary bands, My Lady. The Third Shield values its reputation more than its lives." From the way he said it, I could tell he actually meant it.
Oddly, I found myself liking the man. He had stared down a Hero who had a decent chance of killing him, and he did not so much as blink. I could respect that, even if I found this entire situation thoroughly annoying.
I looked up at that bare wall. The obstacle remained. Every hour that wall remained unmanned was an hour we were fortunate no disaster had happened yet. And when one inevitably did, it wouldn’t be Julian Greenward who would get dragged through the papers. He had bought enough of them to be sure of that.
It was rather clever, all things considered. Some part of Julian might have even been afraid to be surrounded by our House’s men on all sides. Julian was paranoid enough for a thought like that. Though, this felt like more than just paranoia.
It was a shield and a spear in one. A clever ploy. I couldn’t see any way to cut through it that didn’t cost me. Damn it. I felt Vaelin’s annoyance mirror my own. Just how am I going to solve this?
Hooves struck stone behind me. By the time I turned, a green-and-gold carriage was rolling to a stop beyond my waiting companions.
Julian Greenward stepped down from it. He was smiling, and the smile reached his eyes. "Well, Lady Veyne. You should have told me you were visiting. I would have made a more prepared host," he said, looking across at me.
And behind him, stepped down Cordelia. She met my gaze for only a moment, before she looked away again. Her posture was perfect. Her smile was perfect. The ring on her finger did not move. Something in my chest pulled at the sight of her.
I looked at Julian again. Then I looked at his carriage, at the green and the gold and the light it held. It was rather remarkable timing. It seemed Julian was prepared plenty.