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“The Santanas work for the Crown. They wouldn’t dare stop business of the Captain of the Royal Guard,” I declare.
“We are a far ways from Turin, Ari.” There’s a minuscule pause before he says my name. He still has to intentionally think through what to call me, the contempt ofthiefstill wanting to cross his tongue. “The Santanas are loyal to the Crown, but to themselves first and foremost. If we are to keep our assignment private and expeditious, keeping our tails out of their sights and a gilded prison in the process, we need to blend in.”
“What did Parker do? It’s pretty obvious to have a girl passed out in the back as he crossed through. Would they have gone around the perimeter to stay out of eye-shot?” Aiden asks.
“It would take too long. Aldren is smart. He would have found a way to hide her, not daring take the extra day around,” the captain says.
“Are we sure they are going to Thenstra? He could be going to the Western Seaport. Side-step entering Fort Lowsan altogether,” Otto questions.
“He could,” says the captain. “But it’s unlikely. The Seaport was used to trade between Thenstra, Felshan, and Venes. Once Thenstra shut its borders, it no longer stayed the most lucrative option. We can trade with Venes easier by land. There’s hardly anything at the Western Seaport anymore. A small town, a small garrison of guards keeping what order they can.”
I turn and roll my eyes. I’m sure those guards are keeping order, as long as that order fills their purses.
“If he wanted to throw us off, he could take a boat from the Seaport up to Thenstra, instead of going through the mountains,” I say. The geography of Felshan’s northwestern border isn’t something I ever studied closely, but if it’s less traveled like they say, it might appeal to Parker Aldren. Stay off the beaten path. Less likely to be seen.
“Hmm. It wouldn’t be a bad plan. But he’d still have to pass through Fort Lowsan,” the captain replies. “The north gate of Fort Lowsan bridges where the northern Kotar Mountains and southern Prythan Mountains gather the melting snow run-offs, creating the river Villar which heads toward the western oceanfront, and the Rashan, winding down toward Turin and the eastern oceanfront. The water flows around the city and underneath it, building in aquifers. Eventually, they empty into one of those two rivers.”
The captain bends, drawing in the soft ground. Triangles mark the Kotar, a square for Fort Lowsan, and the flowing lines of the Villar and Rashan moving away from the city.
“In the spring, the waters of both rivers overflow at their meeting point. The warm weather melting the snowfall from both mountain ranges. Fort Lowsan is built higher than sea level, saving the city from flooding. However, the only passable bridge at this time of year is the northern gate of Fort Lowsan. Aldren wouldn’t be able to cross to the seaport unless he went through the Fort.”
The captain’s drawing and hurried potamology lesson squashes any theory that Aldren might have gone another way.
“So, his goal could still be the Western Seaport. But we might find him in the Fort before he makes his way out. Especially if they indeed have a wagon in tow, and a girl to hide within it,” Aiden adds.
“Yes,” is all the captain responds.
“What about these wagons here waiting?” I ask. “Princess Adalena could be in any one of these. We should send someone forward, someone who knows Aldren and could spot him, while keeping an eye on the cargo of each. See if anything seems out of place.”
“In order to move to the front of the sequence, I would have to declare myself. My title is the only thing that would give me that opportunity,” says the captain.
Otto meets his statement with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t go straight through the gate. Just wiggle yourself in with a group at the front when no one’s looking. Come on, boy— get a little creative.” It’s clear Captain Montgomery isn't fond of being called boy, even by an old mentor like Otto. Aiden doesn’t seem too distraught about it, maybe even a little pleased to not be the only one referred to asboyin our group.
We dissipate into the waiting crowd, each one moving a little closer to each wagon, surreptitiously checking the contents when we can. My eyes meet with Aiden and Otto once I’ve checked the last cart in my vicinity, no longer able to see the captain from where I stand. As far as I can tell, none of us have found her.
I hold Prue’s reins, feeding her a small apple from my bag as we wait for our turn in line.
“What is your business in Fort Lowsan, woman,” a soldier asks me after I cross the vast, metal threshold with Prue.
“I have an aunt in need of help with her children. I’ve come to aid her for a time.” Do I look like someone good with children? A dress would’ve solidified my story, but maybe women in pants aren’t as uncommon in Fort Lowsan.
He nods and moves me forward out of the entrance.
“And your name?”
“Seneca. Seneca Smith.” He jots my name down on some paper.
“And your aunt’s name?”
“Fiona Smith.” I smile to myself. Seneca and Fiona. Some of my better aliases. Although Calla and Corin weren’t half bad either.
“Ok, Miss Smith. If you stay longer than a month, you’ll need to file for permanent residency.”
“Permanent residency? That sounds like a daunting process.” I joke, just enough to seem trustworthy, but not enough to be memorable.
“Aye, it is.”
I only wanted to make idle conversation, but now my curiosity is piqued. “What must one do to be granted permanent residency in Fort Lowsan?”
