Rezkin thought about giving a false name, but he was not hiding from anybody. If Farson came to find him, that would make his life much easier. Besides, if the guards noticed his Sheyalins and asked for proof of ownership, it could create greater problems for him. These guards did not appear very observant, but perhaps they were both masters of deception. If he were selecting guards for a city gate, he would definitely post a couple of masters of deception.

The first guard was lean with brown hair peeking from under his helm and had a wiry mustache. The second was at least a hand shorter than the first and had a ruddy complexion and bright green eyes. Rezkin stopped before them and waited to be acknowledged. The first finished his scrawling on the parchment and then glanced up. His eyes widened for a moment, as though in recognition, and then he shook his head and continued.

“Name?” the guard barked.

“Rezkin,” he replied. The guard glanced up at him again with a critical eye. He grunted as he took down the name.

“From?” the man asked.

“Perdony,” Rezkin answered calmly.

Both guards’ eyes locked on him as they took in his attire, weapons, and gear. They examined the magnificent battle charger and then looked back at him with suspicion and disbelief.

“You don’t look like anyone from Perdony,” the second guard accused with a hint of hostility.

Rezkin’s icy-blue eyes fell on the second guard as he replied, “I am not from the village proper, but it is the closest named settlement to my home.”

The first guard grunted and nodded in understanding, “You’re a wilder, eh? You’d be better off saying you’re a wanderer than claiming Perdony. No one here will believe you.”

Inclining his head, though still staring the second guard in the eyes, Rezkin replied, “Very well, then, I am a wanderer.” What was the point in asking if they were just going to tell him what they wanted to hear?

The first guard grunted again and made a note on his scroll. The second guard could no longer hold Rezkin’s gaze and looked away quickly as though he had seen something interesting farther down the line.

The first guard said, “State your business.”

Rezkin, satisfied that the second guard had been cowed, looked back to the first and replied, “I am passing through on my way south. I am expecting a comrade of mine, though. He may have arrived sometime in the last week. Is there a way I can find out if he has entered the city?”

“You’ll have to go to the main guardhouse for that. The city’s travel records are public information, but you’ll have to look through them yourself,” the first guard informed him.

“Thank you, sir.” Rezkin nodded courteously. “You have been most helpful. May I now enter?”