attention returned to the city around her.
Leonidas had relaxed even more. Now that he did not have to be constantly alert for ghostly buildings and people, his gait smoothed to a fluid motion that was a pleasure to ride, and the knots of muscle in his back, neck, and shoulders eased away beneath his golden-brown skin. His face lost its look of intense concentration, making him look even younger.
“I have never been to a place like this before,” he said. “I think I like Mirage better than the City.”
Many people did, Linsha knew. The buildings of Mirage did not copy the Silvanesti architecture of the phantom city, so more than anything else they revealed the changing character of the new city. Many newcomers moved into this district and built as they preferred, using the few natural resources from the plains and the sea. Quite a few of the new arrivals to Mirage were refugees fleeing the terrors of the dragon overlords-kender from their devastated homelands, Silvanesti elves trapped outside their beloved forest by the Shield, centaurs and men from the Plains of Dust held by Thunder and the lands drowned by Sable. They came and built with stone, mud bricks, shells, and plaster. The result, while eclectic, was pleasing. The streets were neat and orderly. The storefronts were in good repair and painted in muted colors that complimented the natural colors of the beach, rock, plain, and sea around them. Trash and debris were cleaned regularly, drunks and derelicts and gully dwarves were removed, and everything was meticulously maintained.
Part of this civic-minded responsibility was due to a zealous city council and a dutiful city watch, and a part of it was due to Iyesta herself. The big brass liked cleanliness, organization, and efficiency, and woe to anyone who tried to disregard her wishes in the capital of her realm.
Trotting quickly now, the centaur bore Linsha through the streets, past the small, unobtrusive Legion command post to the edge of Mirage where a low rise of hills lifted from the beaches and overlooked the city. On the highest point Sir Remmik had built the epitome of Solamnic fortresses, a masterpiece of smoothly crafted walls, powerful towers, and perfectly placed defenses.
Only two years old, the walled stone edifice loomed over the open hilltop, guarding both the harbor and the city like a silent, vigilant giant. Outside the high stone walls, the ground all around had been cleared for training fields, a parade ground, and pens and corrals. Within, the fortress was a self-contained citadel for a garrison of seventy-five with its own well, kitchens, smithies, stables, barracks, storerooms, brewery, jail, and a central keep with a hall large enough to seat the entire circle for a feast.
Leonidas stared up at the smooth walls of the gate tower to the glow of torches high on the ramparts above. “This is very impressive,” he remarked as he came up the sloping road to the heavily guarded gate.
“Yes,” Linsha said. “Sir Remmik is very proud of it. I believe he paid for much of it himself.”
From somewhere in the scrub trees at the base of the hill came a long, haunting cry of an owl. Linsha heard it and nodded with satisfaction. Good. Varia was back.
Leonidas paid scant attention. He continued to study the imposing building, then tilted his head and his lips curved in a slight frown. “Has he ever fought dragons?”
Linsha chuckled. The centaur saw with a keen eye. He recognized the difficulty she saw in the citadel. While the Legion of Steel kept an unobtrusive profile in the area, the newly arrived Knights of Solamnia had come barging into Mirage like a saber rattling, over-zealous lordling trying to win accolades for himself. Considering the volatile and offensive nature of the enemies around them, Linsha would have preferred a little less pomp and a great deal more circumspection.
Unfortunately, circumspection was little known to the Knight Commander. Although Sir Remmik was second in command of the Solamnic Circle in Mirage, Sir Morrec admittedly had little taste for the daily grind of organizing and supplying a garrison and building a fortress. More often than not he gave full authority to Remmik, who was not only a talented engineer, but a brilliant organizer and supplier. Because of him, the Solamnic garrison had the finest fortress on the Plains of Dust, bulging storehouses, well-crafted armor and weapons, and an attitude that said to the people of Mirage, “Now that we’re here, everything will be fine.”
Linsha wasn’t so sure.
A few steps before the main gate, Leonidas came to a stop and offered Linsha his hand. She lifted her leg carefully around his waist, took his hand, and slid to the ground. Before she let go of his fingers, she pulled him closer. “You are right that something is stirring,” she said softly. “Be careful, and if you need help or you need to get word to someone, let me know.”
The centaur’s deep brown eyes stared into hers for a long moment, and Linsha saw that her guess had been right. Young and gawky he might be, but intelligence and understanding flowed in him.
“Thank you, Lady.” He bowed to her and turned away into the night. The sound of his hoofbeats faded down the hill.
Linsha listened for a short while, then squared her shoulders, saluted the officer of the guard, and strode in to make her report to Sir Remmik.
3
Sir Remmik was making his rounds with his scribe and two torchbearers when Linsha found him. For some time he deliberately ignored her as he examined the storeroom locks, issued flour, meat, and rations of ale for the morning meal to the cook, checked the barracks and stables, and took a final head-count for the night. Linsha followed him wordlessly, hoping the grinding of her teeth was not obvious over the sounds of their tramping feet.
It was not until he inspected the guardposts that he nodded to Linsha. He frowned at her torn shirt and disheveled appearance. His own uniform was beautifully tailored and immaculate. He moved on, expecting her to follow as he stopped to speak to each sentry and visit each guardpost on the walls, in the towers, and at the gate.
“These Knights were promptly at their stations,” he said to her at last, his expression cold. “They were not gallivanting about the city ignoring their duty.”
Gallivanting? Linsha fought to keep her expression unreadable. The insulting pompous scarecrow. She did not deserve his condescending reprimand; she was no untrained recruit. She was a Knight of the Rose, third in rank in the Circle, and a highly experienced operative.
“Sir Remmik, there was a stranger in the market. I followed him. I suspect-”
She stopped. What exactly did she suspect? But the Knight gave her no time to consider. His hand chopped off any further explanation. The two younger Knights holding the torches clamped their jaws tight and looked anywhere hut at Linsha.
“The Knights of
Once again, Linsha thought irritably, here it comes.
“Let honest pride be felt in possessing that truest virtue of a Knight-obedience,” he intoned as if chanting a devotional incantation.
And there lay the crux of the matter. Obedience. Knight Commander Jamis uth Remmik believed in nothing but himself and the Solamnic Measure. He was a high ranking Knight of the Crown, and for him there was only the law, the Oath and the Measure, the obedience of Knighthood. To him, Linsha was an anathema, an undisciplined rogue, a troublemaker, and Sir Remmik couldn’t abide troublemakers.
Much of his animosity stemmed, Linsha knew, from an incident that happened four years ago when she had been brought before the Solamnic Council on charges of treason and disobeying orders after she helped the city of Sanction and saved its governor, Hogan Bight, from assassination. The three commanders of the Clandestine Circle in Sanction had ordered her to disregard the clear threat against Lord Bight and let him face death. She had refused. After the crisis, she had turned herself over to the Council in Sancrist to clear her name, hut politics being what they were, she languished in prison for weeks while arguments passed back and forth between the authorities. It wasn’t until Lord Bight sent an officer of his guards to Sancrist to inform the Council that he was in the debt of the
