“That warforged attacked my daughter behind the Crafting Hall! He hit her in the head with that hammer and took her pouch! And now we’re going to teach him a lesson!”
The Crafting Hall was across the square, one of several buildings-like the one Guisarme was working on-that faced the Gorgon and saw a lot of foot traffic. It seemed an unlikely place for a robbery, especially in the middle of the day.
“With that hammer there?” Sabira asked. The crowd was on her right and Guisarme was on her left, so she stepped back toward the building as she gestured, to give the angry parents and their followers a better view. Guisarme held out the small sledge he’d been working with. “The one that is completely free of blood?”
“So? He wiped it off!”
“On what?” Sabira countered. “His clothes-the ones he’s not wearing? The nonexistent grass? Oh, I know. He wiped it off on a rag which he then stashed in the same place where he put the money he stole, somewhere in between this little courtyard and the Crafting Hall less than one hundred feet from here. All while about a dozen people and their iron dogs milled around, including a handful of Cannith monitors. Yes, that makes perfect sense.”
“In the bushes, then!”
Well, that was barely possible, she supposed, though it would make Guisarme the stupidest thief she’d ever encountered. Either that, or the cockiest.
“Look for yourself,” she said magnanimously. As Kanjira’s mother moved forward, Sabira shook her head. “No, not you.” She didn’t trust the woman not to cut herself behind the bushes and drop her own pouch to fabricate evidence against the warforged.
“You.” She pointed at an orc who’d wandered over to the edge of the crowd, attracted by all the commotion. “What’s your name?”
“Skraad Walor,” he replied. “It’s a travesty, seeing a proud warrior treated this way.”
She wasn’t sure if he meant Guisarme or Kanjira’s mother-or possibly Kanjira herself, who was conspicuously absent from the mob that had formed to avenge her.
“Actually, a travesty is what I’m trying to prevent. So, if you wouldn’t mind…?”
The orc pushed his way through the crowd, which had grown in number, though it didn’t yet include any House Cannith monitors. Surely the enclave’s security must be aware of the situation by now. Sabira had to wonder what they were waiting for.
He crossed the dirt yard in three steps and shoved the bushes aside, bending low to examine the ground and disappearing behind the greenery in the process. After a moment of searching, he reappeared, holding up something in his left hand.
A bloodthirsty cheer went up from the mob until the orc stepped back out onto the dirt and proceeded to smooth out the crumpled up paper he’d found. It was a copy of the Stormreach Chronicle.
“Droaam Expedition Lands in Xen’drik!” he read, in a surprisingly good imitation of a Chronicle newsboy. “Invasion Rumors Spread!”
He made a show of examining the broadsheet front and back.
“No blood. No pouch. No warforged prints, either. Sorry.” He balled the paper up and threw it back into the bushes.
Sabira turned to Kanjira’s mother, who was even redder than before, though Sabira would have bet a hefty sum that particular shade of crimson wasn’t humanly possible.
“It seems like you have the wrong warforged. Maybe you might want to get back to Kanjira and try tracking down the real culprit now? Though he’s probably halfway to the harbor by this time.”
Several of the members of the crowd started to move away, murmuring in disappointment. Sabira was relieved to see more than one sword make its way back into its sheath. It would be nice to settle this without having to bloody her shard axe.
Kanjira’s father placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder, but she shrugged him off. Another man moved up behind her, and by his size and florid complexion, Sabira guessed he was either Kanjira’s maternal uncle or her brother.
“I don’t care what you say, I don’t care who you are-I know that warforged attacked my daughter, and he’s going to pay!”
“Melcare!” her husband yelled in warning, but it was too late. The woman pulled a dagger from her voluminous skirts and darted around Sabira to try to get at Guisarme.
With an annoyed sigh, Sabira set her feet and grabbed the woman’s long braid as she passed. Just as the slack played out, Sabira put all her weight on her right foot and yanked as hard as she could. Melcare’s head snapped back and she was lifted several inches off the ground as Sabira pivoted and then released her hold in one smooth motion. The woman went tumbling into the dirt courtyard, skirts fluttering as she fetched up against the base of the tree and lay there, unmoving.
“What have you done to my mother?” the red-faced man shouted, drawing a pair of long knives from sheathes hidden in his sleeves and advancing toward her.
“Pulled her hair and got her dress dirty?” Sabira replied, reaching around to unharness her urgrosh as she took a step back to give herself more room to maneuver. “Considering she drew a weapon against a Sentinel Marshal, she’s lucky she’s still breathing. Are you really that anxious to find out how far your family’s luck-or my patience-will hold out?”
“Save it, you metal-loving bitch!” he growled, bringing one blade down in an overhead strike while he lunged at her midsection with the other, as if he were trying to enfold her in a deadly, drunken hug.
Sabira whipped her shard axe out and across, catching his left elbow with the cheek of the axe and sending the knife headed for her stomach flying into the courtyard. The force of her blow rocked him back and the other blade went wide. On her backswing, she brought the sharpened dragonshard that formed the spear tip of the urgrosh down into the meatiest portion of the man’s right thigh, then jerked it back out again with equal force.
As blood spurted, he dropped the other blade and clutched at his leg. A kick sent him sprawling onto the ground, where he rolled around in agony.
Sabira turned to face what remained of the crowd, her shard axe held across her body in an easy two-handed grip.
“So. Who else is feeling suicidal today?”
There was a sound behind her and Skraad yelled, “ ’Ware the mother!”
Sabira spun, expecting to see Melcare. Instead, the blade the woman had thrown skimmed Sabira’s cheek before impaling itself into the wood of the building behind her with a quivering thunk.
Stupid, stupid, she chided herself, even as she advanced on the woman who stood up against the tree, dagger held out in front of her. The scar would serve her right for disregarding a potential foe just because she looked more like a washerwoman than a warrior.
Melcare’s eyes were wide and frightened, but determined. She’d thrown her son’s knife, which had landed on the ground near her when Sabira disarmed him. While the woman was definitely skilled with a blade from a distance, it was clear she wasn’t as comfortable in hand-to-hand combat, and the dagger shook in her grasp. But she didn’t lower the weapon as Sabira stalked toward her; instead, she raised her chin defiantly.
Sabira had no desire to hurt the woman. Melcare obviously really believed Guisarme was the culprit, all evidence to the contrary, and she was simply trying to protect her daughter-and now, her son. Sabira could understand the maternal instinct, even if she didn’t share it.
Ideally, she’d disarm the woman and put her in shackles, but that would mean putting her shard axe aside while there were still potential enemies at her back. Sabira had already let her guard down once today and had blood seeping down her face as a result. She didn’t particularly want to add blood from a sword thrust to the ribs into the mix.
So she did the next best thing. She transferred her urgrosh to her left hand with a flourish meant to distract the other woman. When Melcare’s eyes left hers to follow the axe, Sabira pulled her right arm back and punched the hapless woman under the chin. Melcare’s head snapped up against the trunk of the tree and her eyes rolled back, showing the whites. As she dropped the dagger and her knees gave out, Sabira caught the other woman around the waist with her free arm and lowered her to the ground. She made sure to step on the dagger blade this time, just in case the woman was a better actress than she let on.