The line of guards stood just outside the gate, evenly spaced along the road. Spears rested in their hands, but none were pointed toward the village.
Up close, Felix noticed details he hadn’t seen from the cottage.
Their armor was made from boiled leather, layered beneath overlapping scales of thick fish skin. The scales were large, almost the size of a man’s palm, and had been carefully drilled and stitched into the leather. They were crude by the standards Felix remembered, but well made. The edges were uniform. The stitching was tight. Nothing looked loose or neglected.
The men themselves looked equally well kept.
All of them wore their facial hair short and neatly trimmed. Their clothing was clean. Their boots were maintained. Even the horses looked remarkably healthy, their coats glossy and their tack in good repair.
The village behind Felix was another matter.
Its cottages were little more than rough timber frames covered with thatch and woven reed. Moss and lichen had claimed many of the roofs. The barricade surrounding the settlement was made from sharpened trees, their branches stripped away and their trunks driven into the earth at irregular intervals. It was effective, but it looked like something that had been built because there had been no other choice.
The riders looked like they belonged to a different world.
Moira sat calmly among them, mounted on a well-fed mare. Her cloak flowed loosely around her shoulders, made from pale flax that moved gently in the morning air.
“I’ll need you to step outside the gate before we can enter,” she said. “But before you do, we should discuss terms.”
Her voice remained professional, almost conversational.
“May I ask, is anyone inside in a position of emergency?”
“Yes. The lady named Lydia took a blow to the side from a large animal not long ago. She’s alive, but she got banged up pretty badly. Can we forgo the formalities while your entourage sees to her?”
“Unfortunately, that’s not how things are done. But we can expedite.”
Moira straightened slightly in the saddle.
“To be clear, I am here under orders to escort you to Delta. You are to be received as a guest, but the request is not voluntary.”
Felix frowned.
“It is preferred that you travel unbound and willingly,” she continued. “We are to secure your belongings, but they will be transported with the party and returned on the orders of Z. No one is to be harmed.”
She paused.
“Is that agreeable?”
“We probably don’t have time for this.”
“Is that agreeable?”
Felix looked past her toward the road.
“And if I decline?”
“Then we are ordered to secure you and deliver you to Delta, preferably unharmed.”
Her tone didn’t change.
“That would greatly impact the manner in which you are received.”
Moira gestured slightly down the road.
“Be advised that a vanguard is currently en route with orders to secure the road. A contingency force is also being dispatched to aid in your…” She paused for the briefest moment. “…safe detainment.”
Felix mulled over his options.
There were too many of them.
And Lydia was hurt.
He decided the shenanigans had gone far enough.
“How would I proceed with option A?”
Moira lifted one hand.
A rider from the rear of the formation brought another horse forward. It was saddled and ready.
“Lay down whatever objects you may possess. Exit the gate peacefully and mount the horse.”
She looked directly at him.
“You have my word that you will not be harmed. Once you are safely outside, a contingent will tend to the other residents.”
Her expression hardened slightly.
“Any motion to the contrary will be viewed as hostile, and our agreement will be terminated.”
She held his gaze.
“Do we have an agreement?”
Felix took a step toward the gate.
“STOP!”
The command came from the man standing nearest Moira.
He was clearly the senior guard. His armor was better fitted than the others, with silver thread worked into the seams. Thin silver streamers hung beneath the crest of his spear. A plume of horsehair rose from the top of his helmet.
Every guard leveled his spear at Felix.
Then they took a single step forward.
The synchronized thump of their boots against the road was more intimidating than the shouted command.
Felix froze.
“It is important, Felix, that we have an agreement,” Moira said.
Her voice had become almost exaggeratedly calm and soothing, a deliberate contrast to the sudden wall of sharpened steel facing him.
“Albeit verbal.”
Felix slowly raised both hands.
“Apologies. Yes. I agree to the terms.”
He looked at the spears.
“May I exit the gate? I have nothing currently in my possession.”
Moira nodded curtly.
She raised one hand and made a small beckoning motion.
Then she turned her horse away from Felix.
The guards did not lower their weapons.
Moira gave no indication that they would.
Felix kept his hands raised and slowly approached the gate.
The sharpened trunks of the barricade loomed above him. Beyond them, the road stretched toward the river and the waiting riders.
He reached the crude wooden gate, pulled it open, and stepped beyond the barricade.
Artavus Quill 