Part 39

Greza saw the border station up ahead.  There was a gate and a small outpost for the guards.  The Imperial flag flew from the roof.  There was no line and no one to distract the guards.  She would have to face their scrutiny and hope they didn’t recognize an escaped slave.

She put on her helmet and checked all her gear.

“You’re nervous,” Onata said.

“Imperial border guards can be cruel.”

“They won’t recognize you.”

“We have to hurry through.  Our mission can’t wait.”

“Relax.  If you look nervous they’ll suspect something.  Look like you belong and they’ll pay less attention.”

She didn’t feel like she belonged at all.  She felt like she was riding towards her own execution.

“We have all the proper papers and aren’t carrying anything illegal.  There’s no reason to stop us.  Everything will be alright.”

Greza swallowed and tried to control her breathing.

“I don’t see why you’re scared.  You can take four guards with one arm.”

She knew she could, but that didn’t ease her fear.  All her life she had grown up fearing Imperial guards.  Her master’s house was surrounded by them.  She’d seen what they’d do with slaves.  They had a habit of accusing a pretty slave for theft and swore they wouldn’t tell if the slave did ‘favors’ for them.  The word of a guard would unquestionably be taken over a slave.

“You don’t fear them?”  Greza asked.

“Because I was a slave?  No.  I’ve met too many guards since then to fear them.  If anything, they’ll be intimidated by us.” 

“How?”

“We’re professional killers.  They search carts.  They know the difference.”

She tried to imagine the guards of her childhood being afraid of her.  The scenarios that appeared in her head all seemed ludicrous.

But she could kill all of them.  Easily.  She could tear them apart without trying. 

As they approached the gate, two of the guards stood up and readied themselves in the most slovenly, bored way they could manage.  They had been playing a game of dice and apparently didn’t want to be bothered. 

They stopped and Onata raised her passport. 

“We’re messengers from the Duke of Ekonia on official business,” Onata said.

“Destination?” One of the guards asked.

“Fairfield in Spetium.”

“Right.  Dismount and come forward.”

They dismounted and walked to the guards.  The guards gave them a half-stepped look over and waved them through.  They looked through their bags too fast to have actually seen anything and then stamped their passports. 

They went back to their game of dice without saying anything else. 

Greza couldn’t believe it had been that easy. 

“Is it like that everywhere?”  She asked once they had ridden a good distance away.

“Along the borders, most of the time unless there are special circumstances.”

“Such as?”

“Word of smugglers, caravans full of undesirable people.  Ork traders.”

Greza looked back at the shrinking guard post and wondered why they even bothered to post guards in the first place.  Seemed a waste of time and resources to her. 

She was back in Imperial territory.  It had been a year since she escaped Roristan Manor. 

A lot had happened in that year.  She was a new individual; someone respected and feared.  She was a person now, not a thing. 

This was not coming home.  This was returning to a prison; a place of abuse and degradation.  She had not missed it and felt no loyalty to it.        

“Have you ever fought the Empire?”  Greza asked.

“No one’s been insane enough to start a war with the Empire.  We’ve worked for the Empire before, when they didn’t want to bother sending their own men to punish some small kingdom.”

“How could you work for a nation that enslaves thousands of people?”

“I don’t.  I work for Duke Verin.”

How could he?  He had been a slave.  Didn’t he feel that humiliation and need for vengeance?

When they came to the first town she realized that she was disgusted with it before they had even talked to the first person. 

“You feel like this is returning home?”  Greza asked.

“Hardly.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t like the food, I guess.  You?”

“Definitely not.”

“You didn’t like the food either.”

“No.”

She looked over and saw that Onata wasn’t just giving her usual frown.  She was glaring at the village as it passed by. 

Neither of them talked much about their days in slavery.  It was one of those rare instances where knowledge wouldn’t help.  Sometimes people needed their privacy.    

It was another three days before they arrived at Fairfield.  It was a walled city with architecture different than the usual Imperial that she was used to.  The place seemed far older and the stone in the walls was pitted from countless ages. 

The trees were taller and thicker than anywhere else she had seen and the air was far warmer.  Birds she had never seen flew above the trees.  The mosquitoes she recognized though.  Even in early winter this place had flying pests. 

Greza didn’t know the history of this place but she was determined to find out.  She hated not knowing. 

Statues of gryphons and long extinct dragons of enormous scale decorated the city’s walls.  The guards at the gate wore white robes over their clean armor and their arquebuses were simple with elegant touches of gold.    

The guards looked more like priests than soldiers. 

“Been here before?”  Greza asked.

“Once. Briefly.  They’ve always been…very faithful people.”

“What religion?”

“Don’t remember what it’s called.  Have a bunch of gods, animal sacrifices on full moons. Loud music.  Not looking to join up are you?”

“I’ll stay with my own.” 

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have a religion where you’re not the only believer?”

“I’m not.”

Onata snickered and shook her head. 

They showed their passport and writ of passage to the guards and were waved in.  Inside the gates the city was filled with people who were all dressed in either gray or white.  Only a handful of outsiders wore colors. 

“A cheerful place,” Onata said. 

The city also didn’t look as if it were doing well.  There were too many beggars and many of the people that weren’t begging looked to be only one step away.  Half naked children ran through the streets with sticks for toys. 

This wasn’t how the Empire was supposed to be.  Everywhere else she had seen was full of wealth. This place was worse off than some of the small towns she had seen back east.

“Sad pig farm of a city,” Onata said.

They made their way through the quiet streets to the castle that was tall, simple and intimidating.  The same ancient statues that decorated the city wall decorated the castle.  She didn’t recognize the artistic style at all. 

“Stop staring at the statues.”

“I’m not.”

The guards at the castle stopped them and after an hour of waiting they were ushered into the main audience hall.  The long, old style hall with the pillars running down each side with faded tapestries hanging between them. 

The Governor sat on his throne surrounded by robbed men.  The hall was full of a rabble of people all talking and shouting at once.  Their escort had to shove people aside to bring them up to the governor. 

“Emissaries from the Chimera Company of Ekonia,” the escort announced. 

“Hurry up and bring them here,” the old, thin man on the throne said. 

As they came closer she saw that he wasn’t old, but he was worn down and his long beard had grown prematurely white.  His eyes however were as strong and full of energy as anyone she had seen.  The brows were heavy and creased in a permanent scowl.

“You have a message for me?”  The Governor asked.

“We, do,” Onata said.

“Very well.  I suppose this is business to be done in private.  Follow me.”

The Governor stood up and they followed him and his entourage into a side room with a long wooden table.  The Governor nor his men took seats. 

“Well, emissaries, I don’t know how much your duke had told you, but we’re about to start a war.”