Marked for Death

Chapter 45

There it is, boss, Burch said. He handed Kandler the spyglass he’d found in a compartment on the bridge.

Standing in the airship’s bow, the wind whipping all about him as they sailed forward at top speed, the justicar lifted the spyglass to his eye and gazed off in the direction Burch had pointed. Even at this distance, he wasn’t sure how he could have missed it. The city had to be half a mile long and perhaps a hundred yards wide. It was built on a series of interlocking platforms that crawled along the ground. Smoke billowed from great furnaces in the factories that rose from the center of the town. Guard posts lined the edges of the place, each outfitted with a massive set of ballistae and a squad of well-armed soldiers.

“If there was ever a good reason for people to stop making warforged, that’s it,” said Burch.

“We are not all bad,” Xalt said from over the justicar’s shoulder.

“Staggering,” said Sallah, who stood next to the warforged and peered over Kandler’s other shoulder. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She turned to Kandler. “How does it compare to your Argonth?”

Kandler handed the spyglass to the lady knight, who looked through it and gasped. “It doesn’t,” said the justicar. “Argonth is a floating fortress built from the start for war. It’s the most powerful weapon in Breland. An entire army can travel on it at once.

“This looks like it just grew. There’s almost no plan to it, other than the guards on the perimeter. I bet you could take any of those platforms off and run it around by itself too. In an emergency, they could split the place into as many parts as they like and run them in different directions. Imagine being surrounded by a city like that.”

“Argonth is taller,” said Burch.

“With Construct,” said Xalt, “each platform can tilt independent of the others. If you built up too high, the tops of the buildings would crash into each other.”

“Why did they build it like that?” Brendis asked.

“It has to do with the terrain around here, doesn’t it?” said Sallah.

Xalt nodded. “A flat-bottomed structure like Argonth would never work here. How would such a thing traverse a hill? Or climb the Glass Plateau?”

“Good point,” said Kandler. “Argonth works in Breland because it sticks to the flatter parts of the country. There’s a reason the fortress has never been used in an invasion. It would have a devil of a time getting past Breland’s own natural boundaries.”

“But how does this thing move?” asked Brendis. “If it doesn’t hover by magic, what pushes it along on those wheels?”

“May the Flame protect us,” Sallah said in awe as she lowered the spyglass. “Those aren’t wheels under those platforms. They’re legs. Are those warforged?”

“That’s impossible,” said Deothen, as he strode up behind the others. “That would mean there are thousands of them there.” He took the spyglass from Sallah. “Maybe tens of thousands,” he said.

“Were that many warforged made?” said Brendis. “How can that be?”

Xalt laughed. “Those are not warforged,” he said. “My people are free here. They would never submit to such mindless drudgery again.” \

Kandler turned to look back at the artificer. “Then what are they?” he asked.

“Walkers,” the warforged answered. “Metal golems that consist of little more than a platform on legs.”

Kandler’s breath caught in his chest. He heard Sallah gasp.

“You’re jesting,” said Burch.

The artificer shook his head. “Many wizards use them, and you can find them in the warehouses and factories of the wealthiest houses in Khorvaire, where they are used to help transport goods.”

“Ifyouknowhowto make them,” Kandler said, “then making lots of them is just a matter of time.”

“Precisely.” Xalt nodded.

“Thank the Flame they haven’t figured out how to create their own kind,” Deothen breathed.

“If the changeling is in there, we’ll never find her,” said Sallah. “The place is too big.”

“Get me in there,” said Burch. “I can pick up her scent.”

“She might not even be there,” Deothen pointed out, Kandler nodded at this. He’d had the same thought but been reluctant to voice it. “Well,” he said, “I don’t think we have any other choice. We have to go in to find out.”

“How do you propose we do that?” said Deothen. “Shall we simply fly this airship in and set down in their central square?”

“I’ve heard of worse ideas,” said Kandler. “It might give us the element of surprise.”

“It also might give those ballistae a chance to knock us out of the sky,” said Deothen. “I doubt we could take too many hits from those. An expert pilot might be able to avoid them, but not I.”

Burch pointed up at the ring of fire that surrounded the airship. “They see us already, boss.”

Kandler looked around at the ring. “I suppose you’re right.”

“They don’t seem to have raised any kind of alarm,” said Brendis. “If I saw an airship on its way toward me, I’d have something to say about it.”

“Dragons don’t worry about mosquitoes,” Kandler said.

“Can’t a mosquito bite a dragon?” asked Sallah.

“Sure,” said Kandler, “if the mosquito doesn’t mind being crushed afterward.”

“We’re more than a mosquito,” said Brendis. “If we crashed the airship into the center of their town, that would loose the fire elemental. That would get their attention.”

“And how do you suppose we’d walk away from that?” Kandler asked.

“It is a good thought, Sir Brendis,” said Deothen, “but we’re not here to get their attention. We want to get in and find out if the girl is there. If she is, we rescue her and leave. If not, we leave and look elsewhere. The changeling was traveling northeast with undead Karrn warriors. It’s safe to assume she’s headed to Karrnath.”

“So how do we get in there?” asked Sallah. “We’re not all warforged. They’ll spot us at once.”

“True,” said Xalt. “But there are many breathers in Construct.”

Sallah’s face lit up. “Excellent! Are they merchants, diplomats? I’m sure we can pose as them and sneak in. It’s just a matter of doing it right.”

Xalt shook his head. “They do get such people from time to time, but they are rare enough that they always draw a crowd.”

“You said there are many ‘breathers’ in town,” Kandler said. “Why are they there?”

Xalt paused a moment before speaking. “Slaves.”

Everyone stared at Xalt.

“You saw Superior’s attitude toward your kind,” said Xalt.

“He is not alone in such beliefs. Among my people, I am somewhat of a… rarity.”

Kandler tapped his forehead. He didn’t like the idea that sprang into his head, but there was nothing else there. “All right. We can pose as slaves and you”-he pointed at Xalt-“you can be our master.”

“You would trust him that far?” Brendis asked.

“You saved my life when you had no reason to do so,” Xalt replied. “I am in your debt. I will pose as your master, if that is what you wish.”

Deothen fell a half step back. “Never,” he said. “The Knights of the Silver Flame are no slaves. There is no honor in such a deception.”

“The honorable route would be suicidal,” said Kandler, frustrated. He had known that Deothen would find some way to object. “You can’t just announce yourself and walk in. They’ll tear you apart.”

“Actually,” said Xalt, “they would probably take you before the town’s ruler for judgment. Then they would either enslave you or tear you apart.”

“Who’s the town ruler?” Deothen asked, a tad too imperiously for Kandler’s taste. “Perhaps he is a creature who can be reasoned with. We have no issue with him. We only want the changeling and the girl, neither of whom are his concern.”

“He’s a lieutenant of the Lord of Blades,” Xalt said. “Each of them is named after a particular kind of sword or knife. They are his tools, after all, his weapons in his war on breathers.”

“What’s this one call himself?” asked Kandler. The artificer’s hesitancy had piqued his curiosity.

“He calls himself after the hand-and-a-half sword, the kind that you can fight with in one hand or switch to a two-handed grip for a more powerful blow. He uses the colloquial term for it-Bastard.”

Deothen’s face fell, and Kandler couldn’t help but smirk to himself.

“The Knights of the Silver Flame are not slaves,” Deothen said firmly.

“We’d just be posing as slaves,” said Sallah. To Kandler, she sounded like the voice of reason, but it seemed that Deothen didn’t share the justicar’s opinion.

The senior knight spun about as if he’d been stabbed. “I can’t believe I’m hearing such words from your mouth, my daughter!”

“Please hear me out,” the lady knight said. “While it is beneath a Knight of the Silver Flame to engage in such deception, there is something else to consider here-the life of the child and the fate of our mission. We can adhere to a strict code of honor here and all end up dead and the girl in enemy hands. Or we can… bend the code. These are extraordinary circumstances, after all.”

“Listen to Sallah,” Kandler urged. “Would you rather ride in with your head held high and have it handed to you or swallow your pride and get the job done?”

Deothen stood before the justicar and steamed, unable to bring himself to speak. Kandler looked the man dead in the eyes and shook his head.

“Never mind,” the justicar said. “Burch and I are going in anyhow. With or without you. If you want to charge in after us, just don’t give us away.”

“Wait!” said Sallah. She turned to her commander. “Sir Deothen, I beg your leave to accompany the others into the warforged city. They may have need of a knight’s talents.”

Deothen grimaced as he considered the request. As Kandler saw it, this was a way for the knight to be able to do the right thing while still keeping his own precious pride. He just hoped the knight would agree.

“Very well,” Deothen said finally. “Brendis and I will stay here in the airship, ready to come to your aid at your signal.”

Kandler nodded. “What kind of signal would work for you?”

Deothen gave Kandler a hard look and said, “If I see the light of the Silver Flame dancing along Sallah’s sword, we will immediately fly to your aid.”

Kandler saw what the knight was doing. If the only signal Deothen would pay attention to was Sallah’s sword, then the justicar would be compelled to help keep Sallah alive.

“Fine,” he said. He turned to Sallah. Her face was flushed, but whether from the impending action or just standing in the whipping wind, he couldn’t discern. “You in?”

The lady knight offered a small bow. “To the end. My sword is yours.”

The justicar turned to Burch and Xalt. “Let’s go.”