“Oh, I’m not ready to settle down yet. Pierce and I thought we’d stay with the captain and see where fortune took us. Right, Pierce?”
“You won’t be coming with me, Pierce?” Lei said, surprised.
The warforged soldier glanced over at them. “I’m sorry, Lei.” His voice was deep and resonant, slow water running across stone. “I would not have survived the war without your aid. But I wish to remain with Captain Daine. The war may be over, but he is still my commander. House Cannith sold me to Cyre. The house does not own me now.”
This time, tears finally began to flow. “I knew we’d be going our separate ways, but Pierce-” Lei looked up at the armored warrior. “I thought … I just thought that you’d …” While she was casting about for words the boat dropped sharply, stealing her breath.
“Round Wind!” shouted the driver.
Lei dried her eyes and nodded. “We’ll discuss this later tonight,” she said, her voice tight. “I’m going to have a lot to explain to Hadran.”
As impressive as the lower streets of Sharn had been, Dalan’s Refuge was on an entirely different level-literally and figuratively. The district was built on a massive ring encircling one of the largest towers of Tavick’s Landing, and they were thousands of feet above the waters of the Dagger. Despite the altitude, the breezes were warm and light, and Daine had no trouble with the air.
They were surrounded by the ostentatious display of wealth. Statues surrounded the streets, prominent citizens of Sharn captured for eternity in bronze and marble. At the edge of the ring, a fountain of illusions threw shimmering columns of rainbow light into the air, dropping off the edge to fall towards the lower districts. Night had fallen, and there were far fewer people on the streets than there had been below. Dalan’s Refuge was a residential district, and most of its inhabitants had either retired for the evening or were off seeking entertainment in more exotic regions.
Round Wind proved to be true to its name-at least partially. The manor was formed from large spheres of different stones, merged together to create an unusual aesthetic effect.
“Hadran’s grandfather was an architect,” Lei explained.
“And insane?” Daine muttered.
Two men in Cannith livery stood at the front gate, but they allowed the group to pass once Lei displayed her Cannith signet. They walked down a long corridor with rounded walls. Statues of Hadran’s ancestors watched from either side-proud artificers and wizards bearing the symbols of the house.
Eventually the hall opened into a large atrium, but a bulky warforged that dwarfed even Pierce blocked the path. Where Pierce was designed for battle, this guardian seemed to have been built to impress. He was armored with plates of silver, and gemstones adorned his torso and faceplate. Lei seemed to recognize the ’forged and stepped out in front of Daine.
“Domo, I have returned, and I have three guests. I apologize for arriving unexpectedly. It’s a very long story. Please inform your master at once.”
The warforged did not budge. “You are not unexpected. Nor are you welcome in Round Wind. Leave now.” Its voice was a deep, rolling rumble, and the hostility was unmistakable.
Lei frowned. “What are you talking about, Domo? I am Lei d’Cannith of Metrol!” She held her signet before her like a sword, and her anger caused the Cannith seal to blaze with light. “You will announce me to Lord Hadran at once, or I’ll see you melted into scrap!”
The air seemed to ripple around her hands, and Daine had a flashback of a warforged soldier exploding in the battle of Keldan Ridge.
“I do not take orders from excoriates,” said Domo. “You have no place here. Return to the streets or I shall summon guards and have you removed.”
The words hit Lei like a blow. The fire went out of her, and she took a step back. Daine half-expected Jode to jump in, but even he looked pale. Lei looked back at the warforged, seemingly dazed. “Ex … but … why?”
Domo raised a hand, and Daine heard guards approaching. He stepped forward and took Lei’s arm. “Back off, gemstone. We’re leaving.”
Lei followed blindly, still in a state of shock. As they walked down the long path, Lei paused to look at the statue closest to the door. It was a work in progress-a masculine figure in the robes of a Cannith artificer, but the features were still unformed. Lei stared at the blank face in silence, and then allowed Daine to pull her toward the street.
“We spent all of our silver on the coach,” Jode said, “so I’m afraid we’re going to have to take the long way down. I think we should go to that High Walls district the gate guard mentioned. If there are other Cyrans there, it’s probably our best chance for finding shelter. Still, we’re going to need coin, and quickly.”
Lei still seemed to be in a daze. She had taken off her Cannith signet ring and was idly turning it around in her hand. Daine couldn’t remember seeing her cry before today, but for the second time today her eyes were glittering in the light of the cold flames.
Pierce was bringing up the rear of the group, and he approached Lei. “My lady, what is wrong? I am afraid I did not understand the conversation at the manor gate.”
Lei stopped walking. Anger and sorrow warred on her face. “I’m not your lady, Pierce! Not anymore. I’m ex … ex …”
“Excoriate,” Jode said quietly.
Lei wheeled to face him with fury in her eyes then clenched her fists and turned away. She grabbed Pierce in a fierce embrace, sobbing against the mithral plating of his chest.
Pierce had been forged for war, and none of his companions could match his skills in battle. But he knew little about soothing distress. He put his hands on Lei’s shoulders as if he was worried he might break her.
“My lady, I do not know this word. What is this … excoriate?”
Lei continued sobbing. “Why?” she murmured.
“Excoriation is a tradition among the dragonmarked houses,” Jode said, his tone more subdued than usual. “It is a punishment reserved for those who have severely violated the precepts of the house, not unlike excommunication in the Church of the Silver Flame. It was first put into practice around the time of the War of the Mark … though back then they would actually flay the skin from the victim, stripping away his mark both literally and figuratively.”
“You can’t actually cut away a dragonmark, can you?” Daine asked.
“No, you can’t actually take the mark away. The flaying was a symbolic gesture-though many excoriates must have died during the process. The social implications are what matters. An excoriate is no longer part of the house. Other members of the house are not to speak with him or aid him in any way. He is barred from all enclaves and estates. He cannot marry within the house. If he claims to be an heir of the house, he can be prosecuted under the laws of Galifar. It’s a serious charge, and it takes the authority of a baron or a house council to order it.”
Daine approached Lei and gently put his hand on her back. “Lei,” he said softly. “Why would they do this to you? What have you done?”
Lei pushed away from Pierce and Daine. “I don’t know!” she howled. “All I’ve ever done I’ve done for the house! How could they do this to me?”
Blind with rage, she made a savage gesture with her left hand. There was a glitter of silver, and Daine realized that she’d hurled her signet off the great ring of Dalan’s Refuge to fall thousands of feet to the peaks below.
Jode sighed. “That would have bought us at least a night’s lodging.” He shrugged. “Look, Captain, we need to get moving if we’re going to get a roof over our heads.” He made a sidelong gesture with his head. “And I think the natives are getting restless.”
Indeed, a few Brelish guardsmen were watching them from a hundred feet away, and one was idly toying with his crossbow.