A sudden shudder passed through her and, despite her best efforts to control herself, she sneezed. Seren slapped herself in the face.
“Who goes there?” Rolf shouted, holding up his lantern and flooding the alley with light.
“Show yourself!” said Shain.
Seren peered back and tried her best to look innocent, which she found a somewhat difficult prospect crawling on her hands and knees in a garbage strewn alley at night during a thunderstorm. She held out her hands so that they could see she held no weapons and slowly rose, turning to face them. She made sure to keep her hood’s shadows over her face but held her cloak open so they could see the rest of her. Watchmen, especially young watchmen, tended to be a bit more easily distracted when they saw she was a girl. Sure enough, Officer Shain stopped wrestling with his crossbow strap and left the weapon hanging at his belt.
“Who are you?” Rolf demanded. “Why are you hiding?”
“There’s a simple explanation,” Seren said, keeping a charming lilt in her voice despite her chattering teeth.
Rolf lowered his lantern a bit and looked at her warily. “What is it?”
Seren pretended to sneeze to buy time. She couldn’t think of anything they’d be likely to believe, but at least she had stalled long enough to stand up and get a good look at them. Both guards were somewhat overweight and wore the cumbersome chain mail that was part of their typical uniform. They still hadn’t seen her face. Seren doubled over in a fake sneezing fit, then heaved the rain barrel at their legs and ran off through the alleys.
“Get her!” Rolf cried, jumping back as the heavy barrel rolled past. The clang of a loud bell followed as he did everything he could to summon his fellow watchmen.
Seren wove and ducked as she ran, trying to present a small and random target. She didn’t expect the guards to shoot their crossbows, but she wasn’t willing to risk it. Lightning crashed overhead, throwing the alleys into a flash of daylight brilliance. In that moment of clarity she saw a mounted watchman in the intersection ahead, looking toward the clamor. Not willing to attempt outrunning a horse, Seren stopped abruptly and ran back to an unmarked door she had passed.
Well, that was what she intended to do, at least. In reality she tried to turn and found the rain slicked alley unwilling to cooperate. Her feet slipped out from under her and she skidded through the mud and garbage to stop near the horseman. She looked up at the point of a hastily drawn sword and tried to smile demurely. Given that she was flat on her back and covered with filth, the guard was unimpressed.
“Stop her!” Rolf cried, running up behind her.
“She’s stopped herself, Officer Rolf,” the horseman said.
Seren scowled and staggered to her feet. This time, the three watchmen surrounded her. Officer Shain had his crossbow drawn. Rolf still held his lantern and bell. He leaned heavily against a wall, struggling to catch his breath. Ironically, it was at that point that the storm faded into a drizzle, ending as quickly as it had begun.
“What’s this all about?” the mounted guard asked, looking at Rolf curiously.
“She was acting suspicious, Sergeant Narem,” Rolf said. “She rolled a barrel at us. Probably a thief.”
“Search her,” Narem commanded.
Well used to the ritual, Seren sighed and held her arms up, away from her body. At least in her current filthy state, perhaps the guard would enjoy this as little as she did. Officer Shain put his crossbow away and began to pat her down. Seren grimaced. The way he pressed against her, she realized the dirt wasn’t doing a great deal to dissuade him.
“Can I at least have a cigar so I enjoy this too?” she asked.
“Quiet, you,” Sergeant Narem said. “Shain, go easy or I’m telling Doris,” he added in a gentler voice.
The other watchman looked embarrassed and mumbled an apology.
“Hello, what’s this?” said a bright voice with an elegant Lhazaarite accent. “A little midnight justice? What drama unfolds in the weary, rain-soaked roadways of Wroat?”
The watchmen looked to the sound of the voice. Seren peered over her shoulder as well, though she kept her hands raised. A young man stepped out of the shadows of an awning, greeting them with a broad smile. He was dressed in a long blue coat and fine black cloak. His sandy brown hair was tied back by a think leather cord, and a thin pair of spectacles sat perched upon his nose. He wore a sword at his belt in the manner of a gentleman, though he kept his hand away from the hilt so as not to upset the guards.
“My, this is more dangerous than I first suspected,” the man said, eyes widening as his gaze met Seren’s. “Three watchmen band together to arrest a fifteen-year-old girl?”
“Nineteen,” Seren said tersely.
“My apologies, my lady, but one day I think you will treasure such underestimations,” the man said. He looked back to the guards. “But clearly this is even worse than I suspected. Four years more experience than I thought-all the more reason for caution. Are you certain you three can handle her? I am no citizen of your fair city, but I would be pleased to offer you my modest sword arm for the cause of justice, if deputies are required. I would be proud to participate in such a heroic confrontation.”
“You’re not funny,” Rolf growled. “Move on, stranger.”
“What’s in this bag?” Officer Shain asked, tugging at the sack at her hip.
“Book,” Seren said. She looked straight ahead and kept her voice and posture bored, hoping this would soon be over. She had no doubt that if they saw the seal on that book’s cover, it certainly would be.
“A scholar!” the man interrupted again. “She is obviously a student of some local university. Is this how Wroat’s watchmen encourage Breland’s youth? No wonder this neighborhood is in such a sorry state.”
Even Seren glanced back at that, fixing the stranger with a bewildered scowl. She hoped this odd person wasn’t trying to pick a fight with the Watch. One man against three guards was bound to go badly for him, and she didn’t want to be in the middle of that. The man noticed Seren looking at him. He winked. What was he doing?
“Go take your advice somewhere else, pirate, before we search you too,” Narem said. “Chances are a Lhazaarite has something in his pockets that doesn’t belong there.”
“Your prejudice does not surprise me, though it saddens me,” he said. “I am Tristam Xain, citizen of Zilargo and an honored guest in this city.” He sighed. His shoulders slumped. “I am wounded.”
“Keep it up and you will be,” Narem said. He looked up at the horseman. “Rolf, detain this man.”
Rolf drew his sword, moving purposefully toward the well-dressed stranger.
“Put your weapon on the ground and back away from it, please,” Rolf said.
“Now this is just going too far,” Tristam answered, removing his spectacles and tucking them into his jacket pocket. “I am a protected guest of the city with powerful friends. I have papers granting me immunity from such action as this. Omax, show them my papers.”
The shadows behind Tristam moved. A bulk that Seren had previously thought to be a large stack of barrels rose and resolved itself into a monstrous figure. It was a foot taller than a man, with shining black wood and gleaming blue metal in place of flesh. Its face was a smooth metal plate, split only by an expressionless line for a mouth and two hollow eyes, glowing with an unnerving blue light. It wore only loose brown trousers and a soft woolen hat. It stepped out of the darkness with movement surprisingly lithe and graceful for a creature of its size. The watchmen each took a step back, and even Narem’s horse whinnied nervously. Seren had seen creatures such as this before.