Marsheila Rockwell - The Shard Axe

Whatever else Mountainheart’s task for her might be, it was obviously extremely important to him. Which meant his comment about not using the Marshals for this job had been a bluff. Good to know.

Of course, since she wasn’t actually a Marshal anymore—a fact Elix evidently had not shared with him—she wasn’t sure how much good that knowledge would do her.

But she’d play along with Elix’s little charade, for the brandy, if nothing else. At least for now.

Elix returned and sat before refilling Sabira’s drink and passing Mountainheart’s snifter over to him. The tactic allowed the envoy his momentary height advantage and showed that the new captain was perhaps more familiar with dwarven idiosyncrasies than Sabira had given him credit for.

“Onatar’s Blood, Your Excellency? I could probably dig up some Frostmantle Fire, if you’d prefer, but they don’t seem to have any stocked.”

Mountainheart waved the suggestion away as he took his seat.

“Hate the stuff. The ironspice makes me break out in spots.”

Elix smiled politely and raised his glass.

“To rich veins, then,” he said, inclining his head to Mountainheart.

“And richer coffers,” the dwarf replied, completing the traditional dwarven toast for the start of a successful business venture. He raised his own snifter and looked expectantly at Sabira, who was momentarily riveted by the silver rings he wore on each finger.

She hadn’t dealt with the Aurum since leaving the Holds, and now she’d met two of its members in the span of a single day? That couldn’t be a coincidence.

After a pause long enough to be just shy of insulting, Sabira lifted her glass. The three drank in unison, though while Mountainheart and Elix only sipped their drinks, Sabira downed half of hers in two quick swallows.

The heady warmth tingled on her tongue and burned her throat, but it wasn’t even close to enough to get her intoxicated—not after her recent binge on Bor’s Bog. Thankfully, it was enough to loosen a knot or two in her neck, which was probably the most she could hope for, under the circumstances.

Elix began speaking as she set her glass on the table and watched the thick liquid slosh back and forth in tiny, ever-diminishing waves.

“Now that Sabira is here, perhaps you’d care to give us a little more detail about the job you have for her?” he prompted, surprising Sabira enough to make her look up from her drink. She’d assumed Elix knew what the job was, since he’d come all the way from Vulyar to make sure she took it, even knowing she’d already quit the Marshals. Why would Breven enlist his aid in getting her to return to Karrnath for this mission and then withhold the details from him? Sabira found her interest piquing in spite of herself.

Mountainheart regarded Elix for a moment, as if gauging how much he could say in front of the captain. Then he gave a small shrug.

“Very well,” he said, scratching his chin and toying with one of the battle beads in his beard as he spoke.

“Recently, there have been a number of murders of prominent dwarven citizens. Each was slain in a similar fashion, with no witnesses to the crime and no clues to be found at the scene.”

Sabira waited expectantly for the dwarf to resume his narrative, but all he did was to scratch his chin again and continue to play with that damnable bead.

“And?” she asked finally, letting her exasperation leak into her voice.

This was what Breven had broken his word for? To get her to play Inquisitive? It was a ridiculous thought. The Sentinel Marshals weren’t in the business of solving crimes; their task was to bring the criminals to justice, no matter where they might be hiding.

When Mountainheart continued to hesitate, Sabira leaned forward, ignoring Elix’s warning look and the quick shake of his head. Diplomacy wasn’t her game; she’d never played it well, and she wasn’t about to start now.

“In case you’re somehow confused, this is House Deneith. We,” she spat, the word acid on her tongue, but not nearly as caustic as the look she threw Elix, “do the following: fight wars, protect people, and apprehend criminals. If you’re looking for someone to solve a string of murders for you, then you’re in the wrong place. Try House Medani, or Tharashk—that’s their line of work, not ours.” Sabira had to fight to contain her ire. She’d given up her brooch for this?

She pushed back her chair and stood.

“If that’s all, then I think we’re done here. I have an actual job waiting for me, and you’ve wasted quite enough of my time.”

The dwarf’s own anger had been building during her tirade, and he snapped back at her with equal intensity.

“I don’t know who you think you are—”

“I’m a Sentinel Marshal,” Sabira interrupted, ignoring the voice in her head screaming was! was! “And I’ve had enough of this. If you are unable, or unwilling, to cooperate fully—and by fully, I mean disclosing all pertinent information, no matter how damning, or secret, or whatever it is that’s keeping you from revealing it—then I can’t help you, Baron’s orders or no Baron’s orders. And by can’t—”

“—she means won’t, ” Elix finished for her, rising to stand himself. Sabira looked over at him, surprised and gratified by his support.

Mountainheart immediately stiffened in his seat.

“But you said Baron Breven—” he began, but Elix cut him off.

“—would never order a Marshal to commit suicide, which is exactly what Sabira would be doing if she went into this without sufficient, accurate information,” the captain finished smoothly, and Sabira marveled again at how much he’d changed. “So let’s either put aside the posturing and be honest with one another or let’s end this now.”

Mountainheart’s eyes narrowed as he looked from Elix to her, and back again.

“Yes, let’s do be honest with each other,” the dwarf finally replied after a moment, his voice thick with disgust as he eyed Elix darkly. Sabira had a feeling there was some undercurrent to this exchange that she was missing, and it was only confirmed by Mountainheart’s next words. “Would you like to begin, Captain, or shall I?”

Elix was unruffled, gesturing graciously to the dwarf to proceed as he resumed his seat and motioned for Sabira to do the same.

“Very well,” Mountainheart huffed, scratching his chin and twisting that same bead, an uncut bloodstone that signified his first kill. Sabira was beginning to think he had a nervous tic. Either that or his beard was infested with vermin.

“As I said, over the past few months, there has been a rash of unsolved murders in the Holds. The victims have all been wealthy scholars, and—”

“You mean members of the Aurum,” Sabira interjected. She wanted to see just how forthcoming the dwarf was willing to be.

Mountainheart’s nostrils flared, but he gave no other sign of his irritation at her interruption.

“Yes. Members of the Aurum. You’ve spent time in the Holds,” he said, addressing Sabira. “You know that we dwarves would not normally seek outside help in such a matter, and this is doubly true for the Aurum. However, there are a number of factors that make this situation … abnormal.”

“Such as?”

“The manner of their deaths, for one.”

When he seemed inclined to scratch his chin again, Sabira hurriedly prompted him to continue.

“So how did they die?”

Mountainheart took a sip of Onatar’s Blood before responding, almost as if he were fortifying himself against what he was about to say next.

“Their eyes had been plucked out—from all appearances, by their own hands—and then eaten; pieces that hadn’t yet been swallowed were found in two of the victims’ mouths. And after that, they were beheaded.”