Brille Covella's Arc

Chapter 5 of 13

Brille left the wagon step before the sky turned gray. The token sat cold in her palm. She kept to the alleys, bow case slung low, boots quiet on the cobbles. The south gate stood two streets ahead, and past it the stable where the company would ride out. She had walked this route in daylight a dozen times. In the dark it felt narrower. She rounded the last corner and stopped. A guard stood under the gate lamp, white hair, blue coat, gloved hands folded at his back. Caelthir Silvershield. The elf who had tried to turn her wagons away her first day in the city. The one she had cornered with a threat about the steward. He was not walking a patrol. He was waiting. He saw her before she could step back. His head turned like a cat's. "Potter." His voice carried across the empty street. "Wrong gate for your trade. The market lies north." Brille kept her hands loose. "I'm walking." "At this hour. In shooter's leathers." He came off the wall one slow step at a time. "Show me what's in the case." "You've no cause." "I have every cause. A merchant girl slinks toward the stables before bell. I detain. I question. I write it up." He almost smiled. "The steward reads what I write." Her stomach dropped. He meant to hold her past dawn. The company would ride without her. The token would be worth nothing. She heard boots behind her before he did. Cassian stepped out of the alley mouth, lizard on the shoulder, one hand tucked casual into a vest pocket. His clothes had road dust on them. His eyes did not. "Officer." Cassian's tone was almost bored. "You're off your post. The third gate east is unmanned. I walked past it just now. Anyone could stroll through." Caelthir's jaw tightened. "My post is where I stand." "Your post is the third gate." Cassian drew a folded paper halfway from the pocket and let him see the wax on it. "I could ask the steward which he prefers. A guard at the merchant checkpoint, or a guard playing games at the south wall." The elf's eyes moved between them. He was calculating what one more complaint would cost the seat he wanted to empty. "Go," he said. He did not look at Brille. "Walk. Quickly." Brille walked. She did not run. She heard Cassian fall in beside her, humming something with no tune. "You didn't have to," she said, when the gate was behind them. "I did. He'd have held you an hour." Cassian glanced sideways. "You owe me a second time now. I'll collect on the road." The stable lamps showed ahead. Horses stamped in the yard. The red-haired woman stood counting saddlebags, and she looked up as Brille came into the light, and nodded once. Brille had made the ride. The debt to Cassian had just doubled.