The Return of the Firstborn

Chapter 3: Vaedh

It did turn out to be a journey of two hours. The sun was sinking slowly behind the city, currently hovering behind one tower crowned by the statue of a griffin. The effect was impressive. They reached the open gates behind a pair of merchants on a cart crammed with goods. Six halberd-armed guards stood by the gate, letting unarmed travellers on foot pass without comment. Now, an older guard with squinting eyes stepped forwards.

"Na-me, or-i-gin, wa-res," he demanded, drawing each syllable out. The merchant on the right waved a slip of paper, "We are licensed by the Gull's Guild of merchants in Havia. Let us pass, man." The guardsman squinted even harder now,

"You're only guaranteed en-try provided you're not carrying any arms," he stretched the last word into seconds, "We will have to search your en-tire wares. And my friends here are a little clumsy..."

The merchant cursed resignedly, " I'm Welf of the Gull's Guild in Havia. This is Arned," he gestured at his companion, "Of the same. We set out from Havia with the usual: carved statuettes, silk, coffee and all manner of precious minerals from Imrya." He paused. The guard waved, instructing him to continue. "Then we travelled to Nedredah, stocked up on refined iron and silver. For the jeweller's quarter. Would you like to know my mother's name as well you pompous puffed-up power-hungry buf-foon?" He mockingly lengthened his last syllable. That was the wrong thing to say. This one's not going to pass over an affront like that.

And she was right. The guardsman turned crimson, "I think I see the point of a sword sticking out there," he pointed at the wares on the back of a cart. A statuette of Gern was lying on a chest, painstakingly carved into the finest detail - and brandishing a tiny marble sword. "Looks like we will have to search your wares for more dangerous goods after all."

Ten minutes later, the cart passed through the gate into the city. The guards waved their band forward impatiently. Eyes travelled between the dark longsword strapped to Blackguard's belt and the bow slung over Vaedh's shoulders. If only they knew of Zetusa's many concealed knives or the flintlock dragon stowed away on old Ben.
"Mercenaries, eh?" inquired the squinty-eyed guard sneeringly.

"Something of that sort," replied Blackguard coolly.

"And why are you hiding your face under that dark hood of yours? Just as ugly as a sow? Or maybe a murderer on the run? Let us see now..."

Zetusa stepped forwards. Vaedh couldn't see, but knew that she was making those fiery brown eyes of hers meet his squinting glare, smiling that sly smile of hers. "It's getting of cold and we have travelled far." She implored

The guard's glare softened into confusion, "That may be but we have...instructions...no armed strangers-"

"But we're not strangers at all. You remember me not?" She pouted. The guard stammered senselessly, Vaedh could sense his mind labouring to construct intense and wonderful memories of events that had never transpired. "Besides, I am in need of a place where I can wash my cloak", she tugged at that luxurious silk monstrosity.

The guard's mind rested easy. His thoughts had been turned, like the interweaving branches of a tree which were suddenly forced into a new shape. Vaedh shuddered. "I do remember you, Kerria. Of course I do," he smiled pleasantly at the whole band. You can wash your thing in the bathhouse between Turnblade Park and the Cathedral. And Kerria, you can always visit me at the guardhouse," he winked and stood aside. His fellow guardsmen were nonplussed, but did not intervene. Zetusa turned at the group and smiled, "The trick is letting their imagination do all the work for you," she whispered. Vaedh shuddered. The band moved through the open gate and finally entered the city of the nine towers, which now appeared behind a second wall in the distance. The onset of night slowly drained the streets of its regular inhabitants, scurrying home towards the promise of warmth as the sun expended its last light. Wearily, the four travellers neared the crown of the hill as darkness enveloped the living heart of the last union