Moria didn't stop, but only because silencing the man wasn't necessary. Someone had done it for her--with a punch to the man's jaw. Others had joined in, and a brawl erupted.
The group continued on, but this time they didn't get more than twenty paces before someone else shouted, "Kitsune!"
Gavril kept walking. This man didn't settle for shouting from a crowd. He elbowed his way to the front, coming out behind them and jostling the sheath on Gavril's sword as he passed. In previous ages, to knock against a warrior's sword, even by accident, was an insult punishable by a lethal swing of that blade. Today, such a response broke the empire laws, but the insult remained, and could be answered with a scarring blow.
Gavril turned a cool glare on the man and rested his hand on his blade hilt. For a moment, it seemed the man intended to stand his ground. Then, slowly, he eased back, just enough to let Gavril ignore the insult with a nod and continue on.
Ashyn saw her sister tense as they passed. She also let her hand fall to one of her blades. But the man made no move and said not a word. He simply spat, loudly, spittle landing on Gavril's arm.
Moria threw her blade so fast neither Gavril nor Ashyn had time to stop her. It sailed under the man's arm and pinned his cloak to the cart behind him. Then, with a snarl, Daigo ran at him. The man let out a high-pitched shriek, arms shielding his face, but the wildcat simply plucked out the dagger, giving him a disdainful look, and bounded back to Moria. As she took it from him, the crowd laughed and let out a cheer as the man slunk back into the crowd.
"Keeper! Keeper!"
"What's your name, Keeper?" a young man near them shouted.
Moria sheathed her weapon. "I am Moria of Edgewood. My sister is Ashyn."
"Welcome to the imperial city, Moria!"
"Ancestors bless you, Moria!"
Gavril sighed as they resumed walking. "So much for a quiet and subtle entrance."
"If you wanted either, you needed to give her a sleeping draught," Ashyn said.
Moria rolled her eyes. "The street is lined with people gaping at us. We were hardly passing unnoticed. Gavril couldn't respond to the insult, so I did."
"Which I appreciate," he murmured. "But I'm going to ask you not to repeat it, Keeper. You would do well not to align yourself with me."
"I already have."
"I'm serious, Moria," he said, voice lowering as he moved beside her. "You cannot--"
"Ashyn, is the city what you thought it would be?" Moria asked.
Ashyn glanced at Gavril, but he only shook his head. He'd have the conversation with Moria at another time, she was sure. For now, he let the subject drop, and they continued on to the court.
Moria
Fifty
Moria looked at the palace ahead. It was imposing--she'd give it that much. The wall around the compound was said to take four thousand steps to circumvent and it was so high they could only see blue-tiled roofs beyond. Ashyn had always talked about wanting to see this, not because she was truly interested in court life, but because she'd read of it and heard of it so often that she wished to see it for herself.
Moria wondered if it was what Ashyn expected. Or if Ashyn still cared. No matter what their message brought, it would not return their village.
The Imperial Way ended at the Gate of the Crimson Phoenix. Which sounded terribly impressive, until one realized that it simply meant "the south gate"--the crimson phoenix being the guardian of the south. It was not even a proper gate, but rather a gatehouse two stories tall, with flared roofs at each level, in the imperial tradition. It was made of cypress wood, painted red, with a red tiled roof. The first floor was for the guards. The second was a tearoom, where the emperor would meet dignitaries from enemy nations, which allowed them to be on the palace grounds but not truly within the palace proper.
Once again, guards spotted them long before they arrived. This time, though, they stayed inside the walls of the gatehouse as if they didn't notice the party approaching, though Commander Alain had sent a runner ahead.
When the party reached the gatehouse, the men bowed deeply and respectfully to Moria and Ashyn.
"Welcome, Seeker and Keeper of Edgewood."
There was no greeting for Gavril. Not a glance his way. He'd told her to expect that, as he'd told her to expect the overly warm greeting from some warriors, like the commander, and an uglier one from some bystanders, like the man who'd spat and jostled his sword.
Moria was not sorry she'd thrown her dagger and caused a scene. It wasn't even about avenging an insult to a comrade. Truly, if the man had spat at Gavril over some misdoing, Moria would not have gotten involved. While she'd never felt the urge to spit at Gavril herself, she certainly understood the underlying sentiment. But the insult wasn't about Gavril--it was about his father. That was unacceptable.
She wasn't much happier about the commander's greeting. At first, she'd tho