The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 909: Interference
As the patrol approached us, Luke groaned, folding his arms. "Damn, thought we gave them the slip," he muttered.
"Please stay back, my Lady," Luxxa said softly, stepping in front of Luke and me.
Following her lead, Gith and Jenna fanned out to the edges of the street, all three holding their mana. The stamp of the guards’ boots was suddenly audible, and I looked around, finding the street had abruptly cleared of elves. A few looked on from the sides, whispering to each other, giving us hostile looks.
"Halt!" the guard captain called, his voice ringing through the market.
There were a dozen of them in the patrol, a mixture of third and fourth-level soldiers with a fifth-level captain. They were old and grizzled, with graying hairs and creases uncommon on even middle-aged elves. Some of their gear was enchanted, each piece bearing the stamp of House Ellenwinter.
"State your business here, demons," the captain commanded. He was a stern-looking elf with a scar across his jaw and a piercing gaze that seemed to cut right through me. I shifted, half-hiding behind Luke, the tip of my tail switching, audible in the quiet tension.
"We’re guests of the Sunsingers, on our way to return to their estate. Our escort awaits us not two blocks from here."
"Heh, is that right, human? I don’t recall the law granting such a generous exception," Martheve said, his voice laced with sarcasm. He took a step forward, his gaze passing through Luxxa, fixed on Luke and me. "In fact, it clearly states that any non-elf found armed within the city is to be detained until their identity and purpose can be verified. That goes for all you humans, much less the filthbloods hiding behind you."
"Our identities can be confirmed by our escort, a servant of House Sunsinger," Luxxa pressed. "If you’ll accompany us--"
"Silence, human. That would be a valid excuse yesterday, but we’re here due to reports of armed nonhumans intimidating and harassing elven citizens within the market, breaking the new city law," Martheve said, his voice dangerously low. "If you wish to prove your innocence, surrender your spatial rings and accompany us to the guard station. We can ensure you’re carrying no weapons there."
"Surely you jest," Luxxa said, folding her gauntleted hands across her breastplate. "You would ask us to relinquish our possessions to you, here on this street? Who knows what could befall them? It would be more proper to bring your concerns to the manor where our host can assure you of our good intentions."
"The laws of Sylvarus are absolute, and they apply to all, be they servant or master. I don’t have the authority to allow you to leave. Surrender now, or I will be forced to subdue you."
The tension thickened as the guards advanced, their spearheads level. At their belts hung iron cuffs linked with chains, each set with a small, enchanted crystal. More anti-magic cuffs. They couldn’t be cheap or easy to produce. There was no chance that every patrol had been issued them. Even more confusing was that we hadn’t hurt or threatened anyone, nor had any of the elves shown any real discomfort at our presence. Had someone really reported us, or were these guards here for another reason altogether?
"Would you like to go with them?" Luke whispered.
I frantically shook my head, gripping his sleeve. The thought of being chained, of being at their mercy, made a cold knot form in my stomach, and my tail quiver. But we couldn’t fight them, not here in public. Not when we were here to show we meant no harm!
"Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding," I whispered back, trying to keep my voice steady. "Maybe they just want to verify us and then they’ll let us go."
Luke raised an eyebrow, but I could see the hardness returning to his eyes. "Maybe. But I’m not letting anyone put those things on you."
He turned, facing the incoming guards, and reached for his mana. I braced myself for his aura, for the oily power of his curses to flow across the street. The sudden shift in temperature caused the guards a moment of pause, hesitation flashing across their faces.
"Stop!" a new voice cried out from behind the patrol.
Anrynth, cold and furious, ran up from behind, pushing through the gathered onlookers. Behind him, a squad of soldiers marched on his heels, nearly twenty strong. They were younger than the guards, but their armor was dull and scarred, and their faces lined with deep-seated exhaustion. Across their breastplates was emblazoned a sigil with a distinct wing pattern that indicated they belonged to a skyship troop accompaniment.
Their captain was a sixth-level. He stalked beside Anrynth with a scowl, his aura simmering over the street. A thick, crimson ribbon was wound around his scabbard, with a few inches between the loops.
"What’s going on here? These are my guests! Did they not tell you such?" Anrynth demanded.
"Peace, servant of the Sunsingers," the newcomer captain said, placing a firm hand on Anrynth’s shoulder, stopping his advance. He looked over the scene, his gaze lingering on me. His eyes, a piercing green, narrowed slightly, and he turned to the patrol surrounding us.
"Captain Kaelon," he said, identifying himself. "Why have you detained these people?"
"I am Captain Elmere, and these filthbloods and their human accomplices are being detained as armed aggravators. You have no jurisdiction here, so what purpose do you have for interfering?"
"Jurisdiction? As an officer of House Whitemarsh, I have every duty to the safety of Sylvarus. Unless you suppose your authority supersedes my own?"
I looked between them, my heart thumping. The officer of the Whitemarsh soldiers was young, but there was a weight to his presence, a confidence that made Martheve, the patrol captain, look even more sullen than before.
"This is a city matter. I’ve detained them, and once they are arrested, take them to the guardhouse for questioning to confirm intentions and identities. The military has no cause to interfere," Elmere said.
"I can confirm their identities. This man, Anrynth, has vouched for them as guests of House Sunsinger, related to the party negotiation on behalf of the infernal horde. To arrest them now would cause undue tensions that could endanger the city, perhaps even the entire kingdom."
The captain’s eyes shifted nervously, and his hand fell to his sword hilt, gripping it tightly.
"So you say," Elmere said, taking a shallow breath that seemed to pull his patience taut. "But their identities aren’t in question. It’s the weapons they so brazenly carried in defiance of law. Duskwood stands for order and discipline, regardless of their status. Were it Lady Lastlight herself who broke the law, I would still take her in."
"A law that was passed not five hours ago, and has not been widely circulated," Kaelon countered, his voice rising slightly. "Given the hour, it wouldn’t be unusual for them to have already been out before word was given. Can you not offer them leeway? I will personally escort these travelers to the manor to avoid any further unrest."
"I’m afraid I can’t do that," he said, his voice a dangerous, low hiss. "They’ve already been detained and must now be processed. If you’re unable to assist in arresting them, I ask you to stop interfering."
The officer sighed, shaking his head. "I didn’t wish to do this, but you’re leaving me no choice. This is now a military affair, and you are now required to comply with my orders. Step aside, and allow my men to take over their detainment."
The soldiers stepped forward, their spears held at the ready, their eyes fixed on the guards, but it was the two captains facing each other that truly carried the tension.
"You can’t do this," the guard captain snarled.
"I’m afraid I can, in accordance with the Third Garrison Charter, clause seven. If you wish to retrieve custody, you may lodge a complaint with my Garrison Captain."
"What? But that’s--"
"Commander Whitemarsh, exactly. I’d be curious to see how far you get with him." Captain Kaelon flashed a toothy grin. "Your House is not the only one with leverage in this city, and perhaps it’s time you and yours realized that."
The patrol captain’s face went red, and I could see the frustration in his eyes. He took a deep breath, his jaw set in a tight line, before turning to his men.
"Stand down," he commanded.
The guards hesitated, their spears still pointed at us, but they reluctantly lowered them, taking a step back. Captain Elmere turned smartly on his heel and stalked away, shooting us a final, hateful glare. His men followed after him, shoving roughly through the watching elves with no regard for the irritated looks they drew.
"Well, that was interesting, and certainly convenient," Luke murmured, gazing curiously at the garrison soldiers. "I was afraid I was going to have to make a mess."
