The pillars of creation

When they reached the soldiers, Jennsen held the knife out, holding it by the blade so that the handle stuck up above her fist. She kept her arm out straight and stiff, pointed down at the cluster of men, so that they might see what she was announcing. She didn't look at them, but watched the road ahead, showing them the knife as if she couldn't be bothered to talk to them.

Every pair of eyes watched that knife handle with the omate letter «R» upon it as it flashed past their eyes. None moved to stop the wagon, or to nock an arrow. Tom let out a low whistle. The wagon shook and rattled as it rolled onward.

The road switched back and forth as it made its way steadily up the plateau. In some places there was ample room, but occasionally the road narrowed, forcing the wagon to ride close to the dizzying drop. Each tight bend offered them a new vista, a new view of the expanse of the Azrith Plains spread out far below. Off in the distance the plains were rimmed by dusky blue mountains.

When they arrived at the bridge, they finally did have to stop; the bridge was pulled up. Her faith in herself, and her plan, faltered as she realized that this, and not her bold bluff, was probably the reason the soldiers below had let her pass so easily. They knew she couldn't get over the chasm unless the guards lowered the bridge. They knew she couldn't simply barge into the palace, and at the same time they didn't have to challenge a woman who had what very well might be an official pass, of sorts, from the Lord Rahl himself Worse yet, she now saw how the soldiers had also isolated, in a place without escape or hope of rescue by reinforcements, people they deemed potential intruders. Any hostile foray would be stopped cold, here, and in all likelihood, captured or killed on the spot.

It was no wonder Tom had advised against using the road up.

Stimulated by the effort of the climb, the big horses tossed their heads at the interruption. One man stepped in front and took control of the horses' bits to keep them still. Soldiers approached the side of the wagon. Jermsen sat on the cliff side, and although she saw men guarding the rear quarter on her side, most of the men approached on Tom's side.

"Good day, Sergeant," Tom called out.

The man scrutinized the inside of the wagon and, after finding it empty, looked up at the two in the seat. "Good day."

Jennsen knew that this was no time for her to become timid. If she failed here, everything would be lost. Not only would Sebastian have no hope, but she would likely join him in a dungeon. She could not afford to lose her nerve. When the soldiers were close enough, she reached past Tom to hold the knife down toward the sergeant of the guards, showing him the handle as if she were flashing a royal pass.

"Drop the bridge," she said before he had a chance to ask them anything.

The sergeant took in the knife handle before meeting her glare. "What's your business?"

Sebastian had told her how to bluff. He had explained how she had done it her whole life, that she was a natural at it. Now she had to do it with deliberate intent if she was to save him, and get out alive, herself. Despite how fast her heart pounded, she showed the man a stem but empty expression.

"Lord Rahl's business. Lower the bridge."

She thought that he was taken back a bit by her tone, or possibly he was worried by her unexpected words. She could see his level of caution rise, tensing his features. Nevertheless, he stood his ground.

"I need a little more than that, ma'am."

Jennsen twirled the knife, weaving it over and under and between her fingers, the polished metal flashing in the sunlight as it spun, until it came to an abrupt halt with the handle upright in her fist once more, the ornate letter «R» showing to the soldier. In a deliberate manner, she pushed the hood of her cloak back, exposing her fall of red hair to the morning sunlight and the men's stares. She could see in their eyes that her implication had been clearly understood.

"I know you have a job to do," Jennsen said with terrible calm, "but so do I. I'm on official business for Lord Rahl. I'm sure you can appreciate how displeased Lord Rahl would be with me were I to discuss his business with everyone who asked about it, therefore, I have no intention of doing so, but I can tell you that I wouldn't be here were it not a matter of life or death. You are wasting my precious time, Sergeant. Now, lower the bridge."

"And what might be your name, ma'am?"

Jennsen leaned farther past Tom in order to more directly scowl at the Sergeant.

"Unless you lower that bridge, Sergeant, and right now, you will forever after remember me as Trouble, sent by Lord Rahl himself."

The sergeant, backed by a few dozen men with pikes, along with crossbows, swords, and axes, didn't flinch. He looked at Tom.

"What's your part in this?"

Tom shrugged. "Just driving the wagon. Were I you, Sergeant, this is one lady I'd not want to be delaying."

"Is that so?"

"It is," Tom said with conviction.