‘Thoughts, Shroudweaver?’ Arissa says.
‘I’m not a military man, my Lady.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘So what? I’m rolling in those. I want your thoughts.’
Shipwright laughs. ‘You sure?’
Arissa shoots her a look. ‘Yours too.’
His gaze flits between the two of them. ‘I can’t sense anything much, but that’s no surprise. We know they’re in there somewhere. Which means they want to draw us in.’
‘Which means they’ve got something else up their sleeve,’ Shipwright finishes.
He nods. ‘Quite. But then, so do we.’
Arissa twists her lips sourly. ‘Assuming your voice on the wind is to be believed.’ She waggles her fingers meaningfully.
‘That’s not helpful, Arissa. But I trust them. I’ve never known amagic like it. And the Emperor doesn’t seem to be one for guile.’
She nods slowly, reaches up to scratch under her helm. ‘So what do you suggest?’
Shroudweaver feels her eyes on him, a twist of fear in his gut. ‘If it were me, and I’m not saying it is, I’d draw the tooth. The two of us are enough to punch through and scout the first street or two. And we can get out quickly if they’re waiting.’
Arissa looks sceptical. ‘Unless they’ve got something we’re not prepared for.’
Shroudweaver looks at Shipwright. ‘They’re not prepared for us, my Lady, And, respectfully, this is why you brought us along.’
She looks at him, a faint quirk of her lips. ‘They train you well at the Aestering, don’t they?’
He dips his head. ‘Tolerably.’ Turns to Shipwright, ‘You ready for this?’
She shakes her head. ‘No, but I’ll do it. Let’s not take the horses though. And give us twenty men. I’m good, but I don’t want keeping you alive just on my back.’
Arissa nods. ‘Done. Brimlicker’s crew will go with you. They’re the worst pack of street dogs I’ve ever met.’
She motions a captain over, a tall woman with a ridiculous hat, and a pair of daggers that sit easily on her hips. Her crew follow her, low-browed and bright-eyed, rolling their shoulders and hips.
Arissa points at the pair. ‘Brim, don’t let these two die.’
Brimlicker’s eyes rove over them and she adjusts her belt. ‘You got it, lady.’
She steps aside as they dismount. ‘Nice to meet you. How do you want to play this?’
Shipwright looks at Shroudweaver. ‘Stay behind me.’
He nods.
She turns to Brimlicker. ‘Boarding speed, we don’t go deeper than a couple of hundred yards, anything less than us that gets in our way, we put it down hard. He’s there to take care of anything worse.’
Brimlicker nods, teeth flashing. ‘This is fun, isn’t it?’
Shipwright shakes her head as they start advancing on the gates, ‘Not really.’
Brimlicker pats her shoulder, ‘Relax, new captain. I’ll buy you a drink after. Never been in a battle that killed me.’
Within minutes they’re under the shadow of the pillars, their angles impossibly large, glimpses of bone sheared through the torn metal.
The gates open out into a plaza scoured with dust and swirling wind.
