Curse of Blades (Blades #1)

Chapter 3

[Freshly edited July 27th, 2021.]

The day that the envoy was expected to arrive, Coulta waited at the city gate, sitting atop the wall and gazing out over the land beyond. It was a long wait – he saw no signs of the approaching group of horsemen until dusk had begun to set in.

Coulta watched them enter the city gate below him, and counted fourteen men in total. Thirteen of them wore red uniforms, and one of those thirteen wore a golden cord of rope tied from his left shoulder across his body to his opposite hip, a symbol Coulta took to mean that he was the captain. Riding beside this man, at the head of the group, was a man dressed in blue and tan. He also had a cord of rope draped across his body, but it was thicker and there was blue braided into the gold which Coulta assumed was a mark of higher station. All the soldiers, even the captain, wore helmets of silver metal, but the envoy did not and his chestnut hair shone in the setting sun. He was also the only man in the group who was clean-shaven.

The man looked up abruptly and directly at Coulta, a momentary look of puzzlement crossing his face before he shook his head and focused on the direction he was riding. If Coulta wasn't certain he was hidden from sight, he would have thought the envoy had spotted him. He shook off the sudden strange desire to show himself to the man and forced himself to pay attention to the entire group of soldiers.

Coulta couldn't help staring with wonder at the sight of them. They must have stopped before reaching the city to groom their horses, because they all gleamed far more than any steed ridden for several days could have. They were clearly there to remind Varin who was truly in control of the city.

The group moved down the street and Coulta followed silently on the rooftops. As he had expected, they stopped at the best inn the city had to offer. Coulta knew the layout well. There was a tavern on the ground floor, above which there was a floor with two large group sleeping rooms, and on the top floor were two smaller group rooms that could fit five men each, and two private rooms. He was fairly certain the group would take the top floor.

He waited and watched from the roof across the street, crouching in the shadows. The men stabled their horses in a public stable beside the inn, and made their way into the tavern. Coulta slipped soundlessly from his post and found a place where he could watch from a closer vantage point, still hidden in shadow.

He could see a large portion of the tavern from his new location thanks to the shutters being wide open and, as he had expected, the soldiers were already busy getting drunk and flirting with the girls working inside. Though he kept track of what the soldiers were up to, his gaze returned frequently to the envoy and the captain, who were speaking to the innkeeper.

Moments later, coins changed hands and the two guests made their way upstairs carrying several traveling packs with them.

As they went up the stairs, Coulta climbed easily onto the stable roof, which allowed him to see into the window on the second level. As expected, the men did not stop there. So Coulta grabbed the handholds he had planted in the wall the night before. These allowed him to climb up to just below the top window and rest almost comfortably there to listen.

Luckily for him, the men chose to enter that room and not the other private room at the opposite end of the building. Coulta heard them enter and glanced up to see the window gradually grow lighter as the candles in the room were lit.

"Oh, let the men have their fun," the older man was saying. "They're soldiers, Wildas. They've spent six days on the road, away from the comforts of ale and female companionship."

"If what I have been told of these Arren whores is true, they're likely to be leaving a part of themselves here when they go home," Wildas grumbled.