Rich Wulf - Flight of the Dying Sun

“Speak your name and business,” the captain demanded.

“We are here on an official investigation on behalf of the Sentinel Marshals,” Eraina said, emerging beside Dalan. She snapped open a metal case, displaying her official seal. “We wish to purchase supplies so that we can repair our vessel and continue on to Korth.”

The captain stared at the seal for nearly a minute, with the air of a man who isn’t quite sure if he’s looking at an official document, and doesn’t know if it’s worth making a fuss about. “Marshal Eraina Deneith, eh?”

“My commanding officer is Marshal Kirin Galas, currently stationed in Korth,” she said. “You may contact him for verification.”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” the captain said with a bored sigh. He peered up at the airship again, studying the vehicle cautiously. “As long as you move on quickly.”

“Expediency is our primary goal, I assure you of that, Captain,” Dalan said smoothly. “Now, if I might trouble you, could you please point me in the direction of a local carpenter or lumber mill? I wish to make a few substantial purchases.” He dug into his jacket pocket. “If it helps, I have a precisely detailed list …”

Dalan strode away with the captain in tow, grinning broadly as he discussed business. Eraina remained behind, noting that two of the Karrnathi soldiers remained behind at a respectful distance, watching the ship.

“That was unexpected,” said a gruff voice. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Eraina.”

Eraina glanced back as Zed Arthen stepped out of the tower beside her. He was wearing his long, shabby coat but had left his sword behind. He clenched a thin pipe between his teeth, drifting a plume of smoke over one shoulder.

“What are you talking about, Arthen?” she asked stiffly.

“Your vow of honesty,” he said, keeping his voice soft enough that the remaining soldiers would not hear. He nodded at them amiably.

Eraina glared at him coldly.

“Oh you didn’t lie, sure,” he said, “but you didn’t tell them the whole truth, either. I thought your vows were a little less flexible than that.”

“I told them precisely what they needed to know, and no more,” she said. “Do not question my dedication to my goddess.”

“A hair is a fine thing to split,” Zed said, “but it gets easier with practice. Be careful, Eraina.”

“Or what?” she said with a bitter laugh. “Am I to endure lessons in maintaining my vows from a knight who could not uphold his own?”

“Why not?” he asked, spitting a puff of smoke at her. “Nobody knows the way down better than me.” He straightened his heavy coat over his shoulders and headed off into the city.

Eraina glared after him for a long time, then started down the road leading out of the rail station. She kept her distance behind him, looking pointedly away when he glanced back. Zed stopped and looked back, waiting for her. She moved toward the far side of the road and kept walking.

“I going into town on purely personal business, Arthen,” she said. “I do not require your company.”

“We’re both going into town, Eraina,” Zed said, limping quickly after her. “We may as well walk together.”

“Go with one of the others,” Eraina said. “I have no desire for your company.”

“Nobody else is going but you and me,” he said. “Pherris is too tired. Gerith is still depressed about the Ghost Talon massacre. Tristam is studying Kiris’s journals, so that means Seren isn’t wandering too far away either. Omax knows better.”

“Knows better?” she asked archly.

“Your people treat his like slaves,” Zed said. “Omax could pretend that he belongs to Tristam, but he’d still get treated like a mindless machine here. Karrnath isn’t a place where a free warforged feels welcome.”

Eraina grimaced uncomfortably. “The law stands for a reason,” she said. “Not all warforged are as kind and contemplative as Omax. Karrnath endured many injuries at the hands of warforged soldiers. Many believe that they are better off kept in check.”

“Do you believe that?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I believe they would not have been given life without purpose, and to ignore such a miracle is to squander that purpose. The gods smile upon the warforged, even if they did not create them. Yet I serve the law.”

Zed chuckled. “You do a good job of juggling all of that ridiculous dogma and still coming out of it a decent person, but I don’t envy you one bit, Marshal.”

“The others remained behind,” she said, changing the subject. “But you did not. What business do you have here?”

“Nothing in particular. I couldn’t stand it in that ship any longer.” Zed looked up at Vulyar’s rough walls, removing the pipe from his mouth for a moment. “I need to be around people. Find a tavern, restaurant, someplace to just sit for the night.”

“Odd,” she said. “You don’t seem like a particularly social person.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I can’t stand talking to people, but I like to watch them, listen to them, to figure out what makes them think the way they do-but from a distance.” He tapped his temple. “I like to get into their heads. It’s strange, but hey, you asked.”

“No, I understand,” she said. “I sometimes find myself doing the same thing. It sharpens one’s investigative skills.”

“That’s part of it, sure,” he said, nodding rapidly and popping the pipe back into his mouth. “You can’t do that on a little ship like Karia Naille . Everyone knows each other. Everyone’s too easy to read. Except Dalan, and he’s too much trouble.”

“True,” Eraina said with a small laugh.

“And you,” Zed said. “I don’t quite have a handle on you, yet.”

She looked at him. “Why do you require a handle on me?”

“I reckon I don’t,” he said. “I just like knowing which way people are likely to swing when trouble hits, and with you I really can’t tell. One day you’re threatening to muster allies and bring the law down on us, the next day you’re cleaning out the cargo bay and healing our wounds.”

“What is your point?” she asked.

“I’ve known more than my share of paladins, Marshal,” Zed said. “You’re a fair shade more complex than most of them, to put it gently. Most of them are a lot more blunt. They see evil, they smite it. They see a foe, they pursue. You’re a lot more subtle. Flexible.”

“Faith is not a symptom of ignorance, Arthen,” she said. “A mortal can champion the gods without setting her brain aside.”

“Fair enough,” he said, “but to be fair, faith and ignorance are usually bunkmates, even if they’re unrelated. You may be the exception, Marshal. Like I said-I don’t envy you.”

She laughed. “Because I am a paladin, but I am no fool?”

“Maybe,” he said. “You remind me too much of myself.”

They walked deeper into the sleeping city. Though Vulyar was a center of commerce between Karrnath and the Talenta Plains, few of the locals were abroad in the streets. It was too early and too hot to be working. Those who were about took the time to pause and stare at the two strangers who had entered the city. They cast nervous looks at Zed but seemed reassured by Eraina’s presence. One man even whispered a brief prayer to Boldrei before hurrying away. Zed watched the man go, a sad, bitter look in his eyes. Then it all made sense.

Eraina looked at Zed intently. “You were not merely a Knight of Thrane, were you?” she asked. “You were touched by the Flame. You were a paladin.”

“I never said anything like that,” he said.

“But you were,” she said. “Weren’t you?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, scowling at her.