At one o’clock in the afternoon, the check column marched up the steep, winding incline of the High Terrace. The rain was drumming against the cobblestones, washing streams of red mud down the gutters. Before them loomed the Gate of the Three Rivers. A massive portal of dark bog oak studded with bronze rosettes, set into thirty-foot walls of dressed cut stone granite.
Standing before the closed portal were eight academy wardens in azure tunics, their arms crossed. They held heavy bronze-headed maces. Their captain, a tall, scarred veteran named Varn, stepped forward with his hand resting on the handle knob of his short sword.
‘Halt!’ Captain Varn commanded, his voice echoing in the wet archway. ‘The High Terrace is the consecrated safe hall of the College of Summoners. No armed town force may pass this gate under ancient charter!’
Sergeant Kray didn’t break stride. He stepped directly into Varn’s face, his iron breastplate clanking against the warden’s bronze cuirass. Behind Kray, twelve town guards leveled their axe-spears with a same-time, menacing click.
Korr Var stepped between them, holding out the signed warrant. The red seal of the High Senate gleamed in the gray light, directly beside Master Davin Sorell’s fresh signed name.
