And so, despite the crowd, Ashyn and Moria cut easily through to the gates, where there was a line of those wishing to enter the city. It was generally a quick process, Gavril had said. Travelers paused, ostensibly to state their business, but in truth so the guards could get a look at them. Exiles were marked by a brand on the side of their neck. As well, there were travelers from outside the empire who did not follow its laws and attempted to carry weapons into the city. And, of course, there were criminals whose faces the guards had been told to watch for, though considering that Ronan knew another way in, Ashyn suspected it was a rare and truly foolish criminal who attempted to use the front door. Ronan himself, fortunately, did not bear the exile's brand--if a convict survived the Forest of the Dead, his exile was considered at an end, so no permanent mark was given.
As they approached the line, their magical crowd-clearing powers proved useful again. They'd stand behind someone who would look back, see the girls and the beasts, and wave them ahead. Sometimes they would be met with lowered eyes and a murmured, "Blessings to you, Seeker and Keeper." Most just moved aside quickly.
As soon as they drew close enough for the guards atop the wall to see them, one hurried down and spoke to his comrades. Then the line truly did part before them, as two armed guards strode along and ordered everyone back.
Ashyn started to dismount, but Gavril murmured, "No," and Moria seconded it with a nod. As the guards drew close, Ashyn could see why they stayed on their horses--because it meant they towered over the guards, putting them in a position of power.
Gavril moved his horse forward. "I bring the Keeper and the Seeker of Edgewood." He didn't shout, but his voice carried, and around them, a hush fell. "They bear a message for the emperor."
The guards exchanged a look. Clearly this was not an occurrence for which they had been trained.
"We were not informed of this visit," one said finally.
"Because that was not possible," Gavril said. "We bring urgent tidings. Grave tidings."
Another look between the guards.
"These are clearly the Keeper and the Seeker of Edgewood," Gavril said, his voice hardening. "No more ought need to be said. You will let them pass."
The crowd behind the guards was parting again, this time for a gray-haired man, an inked warrior. Likely the commander of the gate.
"My apologies to the young Seeker and Keeper. This is unexpected and--" The old man stopped. His gaze went from Gavril's face to his arms. Then his weathered face broke into a smile. "Gavril Kitsune. Welcome home."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Few would have been able to recognize the tattoos at a distance, and even those who had would likely presume it was only some distant relation of the former marshal.
Gavril discreetly waved for the girls to stay seated, but he dismounted and, for a moment, Ashyn thought he meant to embrace the old warrior. Which proved, she reflected, that she didn't know Gavril nearly well enough. He only dismounted and bowed.
"Commander Alain," he said.
The commander clapped Gavril on the back as he straightened. "It is good to see you, son."
"I would say the same, sir, were it under other circumstances. As I was telling the guards, I'm escorting the Keeper and the Seeker of Edgewood with a message for the emperor, along with ill news."
He lowered his voice, and Ashyn knew he was telling the commander about Edgewood. The other guards moved closer to eavesdrop, but Ashyn could tell from their expressions that they heard none of it.
As Gavril finished, Commander Alain's face paled and his gaze shot to the girls. "My sincerest condolences," he said, with a deep bow. "The imperial city welcomes you. My men will escort you to the court."
Gavril murmured something, again too low for anyone to hear.
"Yes, of course," the commander said. "Understandable." The old man clapped Gavril's back again. "It is good to see you, Gavril. Welcome home."
A buzz ran through the crowd, and Ashyn realized this was more than an old warrior welcoming a young one. There was a subtext to the words and the effusive greeting. A dangerous subtext, given the crowd's whispers and murmurs. In welcoming the son of the disgraced former marshal, the commander was making a very public statement.
Ashyn knew that when the emperor exiled Marshal Kitsune, his family was permitted to keep their rank and live in the city, and were accorded all due respect in the court in acknowledgment of the marshal's long service. It had seemed simple enough. Yet given Gavril's concerns about appearing to sneak into the city--and now the commander's reception and the bystanders' reactions--Ashyn could tell it was not simple at all.
As Gavril walked back, he leaned over to Moria and whispered, "I asked for a small escort kept at a distance. Otherwise, by dusk, people will be saying we were taken to the court under armed guard."
Moria nodded. "Good idea."
The commander gave their packs to guards to carry, and two boys led their horses away. No one asked about the riderless fourth horse.
Forty-nine
The commander accompanied them to the gates, talking as they went, mostly to Gavril, though he included the girls. It was idle chatter, yet not meaningless, Ashyn decided as they passed through into the city proper with the commander still at Gavril's side, still talking to him. It was another statement. So, too, were the actions of other guards, older than the ones who'd first met them, warriors coming out from the gate garrison, welcoming Marshal Kitsune's son home.
Was it simply a sign of respect for their old leader? Ashyn hoped so. She knew from her studies that no enemy, no plague, no natural disaster was more dangerous for an empire than a schism between its emperor and its army. She'd heard her father and other villagers speak of the current marshal, saying he was not the man his predecessor had been, and she'd heard relief in their voices. He was a competent marshal and nothing more, and that seemed to be the way most liked it.
At least, it was the way the villagers of Edgewood had liked it. For the average citizen, peace was good. She looked at the armed men greeting Gavril. Were they as fond of peace? Did they chafe under a "competent" man?