--donation bonus day (Page 1/3)--
Zeff didn’t know very much about Sanko, but that wasn’t especially surprising. Promotions within the Vanguard tended to work that way. As servants moved up through the ranks, their identities became increasingly concealed so as to protect any uninvolved family members or friends from Abolish. Naturally, the promotion from captain general to field marshal was the most dramatic, which was why none of the field marshals had last names. Sanko was undoubtedly not the woman’s birth name, either, and given her age--likely pushing two hundred years, if not more--there would not be many people left alive who knew what her original name was.
But it was easy enough to see why she was called the Gargoyle. She wore a gray mask with a grotesque devil’s face on it, bearing stubby horns at the top and long fangs around the open mouth. It hid everything but her pale lips and large eyes, which were so darkly blue that they almost looked purple.
If she had hair, it was concealed beneath the hood of her uniquely black overcoat, which she chose to drape over her shoulders like a cape rather than wear properly. Beyond that, however, her uniform was no different than the average member of the Vanguard’s ground forces--simple brown-on-white camo.
All-in-all, one could be forgiven for assuming she was a man. Only the subtle curves in her uniform offered any real visual clues.
“Octavia Redwater,” the woman said in two voices.
And her audience of Rainlords shifted uncomfortably as they realized that she was already using pan-rozum.
Octavia kept composure well enough. “How’ve you been, you old crone?”
Sanko responded with quite a long pause, perhaps not appreciating the Red Lady’s attempt at affection. But she did answer the question eventually. “We have been fine.”
‘Why are you using pan-rozum already?’ said Wendy, apparently unafraid of asking the question everyone was thinking.
“Merely a precaution,” said Sanko. “For the unlikely case in which you intended to ambush us upon arrival. Do not take offense.” It sounded more like an order than an apology.
Wendy wasn’t through asking questions. ‘Why have you come alone? Shouldn’t you have a security escort with you?’
“We did not come to fight. And we will not be staying long. We must return to Korgum as soon as matters here are settled.” She started walking for the airfield office’s exit, and the Rainlords made way for her, soon falling in behind.