Knight Eternal (A Novel of Epic Fantasy) (Harbinger of Doom Volume 3) (18 page)

Ob looked over at Theta. “Any ideas?”

“
We’ve only one ship and
not enough men to split our force. Given that, we must find someone
who saw the ship leave. We must discover what direction they
went.”

“
Or take our chances by
choosing east or south,” said Ob. “Another coin toss?”

“
If we choose wrong, all
could be lost,” said Theta. “We must find another way.”

Par Tanch sat up on the couch. “There’s a
seer,” he said. “Azura the Seer, she’s called. Trained in the Tower
of the Arcane and gifted with far sight and prescience. She may be
able to point the way for us.”

“
I put little stock in
so-called seers,” said Theta.

“
Her powers are real
enough, my lord,” said Tanch, “or the tower wouldn’t have passed
her through.”

“
Hogwash and
horsefeathers,” said Ob. “They’re nothing but charlatans and
mummers.”

“
Let’s try it,” said
Claradon. “If she knows nothing, we will have lost little but a bit
of time.”

“
Where do we find her?”
said Theta.

Tanch shook his head. “I’ve heard her tower
resides in the western district, but I don’t know where.”

“
Western district, you
say? Near the Raging Giant Inn, there’s a tall tower. Could be
that’s it.”

“
Perhaps,” said Tanch,
nodding.

“
Let’s try it,” said
Claradon.

“
Why don’t we just ask
someone for directions?” said Dolan.

“
You start asking folks
and the entire city will know within the hour,” said Ob, “unless
the harbormaster has already told them. We don’t need any more
attention.”

***

“
Slaayde—keep your men
close, no shore leave,” said Theta. “We may need to leave with
speed on our return.”

Slaayde smiled a wide smile with his mouth
but not his eyes. “Bertha and her men are still out collecting
supplies.”

“
Have
them back before we return.” Theta turned to Seran and Glimador who
stood nearby. “Keep a watchful eye for
The
Grey Talon
. She could be here any time.
Keep our men on the ship. See that Slaayde’s men don’t stray
either. Post a strong guard on deck. Be ready for
trouble.”

“
What trouble are you
expecting?” said Slaayde.

“
The troubling kind. Just
keep your men close.”

The group set off and made their way down
the long pier past Tragoss trawlers and heavy Minoc merchantmen, a
trireme out of Kern and exotic sailing vessels from the southern
islands. At the pier’s end, a broad avenue stood before them,
stretching as far as one could see in each direction along the
water’s edge, filled with wagons and carts, seamen and citizens, in
transit in all directions. Though the way was wide, the group could
walk no more than two abreast due to the throngs of dockworkers and
teamsters. Claradon and Theta walked side by side at the vanguard
of the group, Ob and Tanch behind them, and then Dolan and
Artol.

Despite the crowds, nearly
half the storefronts they passed were closed—abandoned and boarded
up. Many lots were piled high with debris, stone and brick, wood
and tile, the remnants of demolished buildings, long past their
time.

“
Last I was here,” said
Ob, “Tragoss had more brothels than bricks and more pubs than
peddlers. Next to trading or slaving, those have always been their
biggest businesses. All these abandoned storefronts were pubs.
There on the corner was a place called The Great Mug. They’d been
in business a couple centuries at least and sold more than a
hundred kinds of beer from across Midgaard. Best tavern south of
Lomion City. I will miss it. Stinking Thothians.”

“
What of the buildings
torn down?” said Claradon.

“
Gambling halls and
brothels mostly. Guess even the buildings offended the monks.
Reminds me of one time when me, McDuff, and Red Tybor were down
here and—”

“
Not now, gnome,” said
Theta over his shoulder.

Ob replied only to Theta’s back with a crude
gesture.

Despite the changes, the streets still burst
with inns and eateries, tackle and bait shops, food stands and
fruit carts, and souvenir shops beyond count.

Sprawling warehouses of
stone and brick and wood also thrived here, some of good repute,
others ramshackle and abandoned—husks of past glories and finer
days. Nearly all the buildings, save for the warehouses, were two
stories, mostly built of tan-colored brick and mortar. They had
flat roofs and wood-railed parapets. The citizenry were far more
varied. There were tall Lomerians, dusky sailors from Minoc, short,
yellow-skinned men from Tragoss Gar, colorful traders from Piper’s
Hold, and many more.

The women all wore long
gloves extending from fingertip to elbow on both hands. The gloves,
some in cloth, others in leather, varied in color, style, and
pattern, and were universally worn by all women, even young girls.
“In the inner city, the local women only wear white or black
gloves,” said Ob. “Last I was here, foreigners didn’t need to wear
the gloves at all. Guess that has changed.”

“
Need to?” said
Claradon.

“
The Thothians consider it
improper for women to go out without gloves. “If you do, they will
stone you.”

“
To death? For not wearing
gloves?”

“
Yup. And they call us
northerners barbarians. They say ungloved women are unclean whores,
or some such nonsense.”

Everywhere were the Thothian monks, in
groups of two or four and sometimes more. Stationed here and there
and everywhere, watching every move, marking every word and glance.
Besides the monks, and some of the merchants, few Tragoss Morians
moved about the harbor district. It was a land of sightseers and
seamen, tourists, traders, and foreign laborers.

It took almost an hour for the group to make
their way on foot to the thirty-foot-tall wall that separated the
Harbor District from the Western District. Iron portcullises barred
passage from the wide gravel-filled avenues of the Harbor to the
narrow cobblestoned lanes of the West. A guard post stood behind
the iron, manned by a group of city watchmen.

“
The Harbor District is
all most visitors see,” said Ob. “Once we pass this checkpoint, you
will see the real Tragoss Mor. She’s a beauty, except for the
sewers. I expect we will have to pay to get through.”

Ob stepped up to the gate and banged on it
with his axe handle. “Open up.”

Two uniformed guards stepped out of their
shelter and approached the gate. One was middle-aged and tall, with
bright eyes. The second was average height, lanky, and vacant.

“
Who seeks to enter the
Western District?” said the first guard.

“
We do, bucko. Open
up.”

The guard looked down at
Ob and wrinkled his nose. He looked up at the others. “Is this imp
yours?”

“
My servant,” said Tanch.
“Kindly pass us through.”

“
Your names and
business?”

“
I’m—Par Sinch of Kern,”
said Tanch. “I am on a pilgrimage to visit the great shrines of the
Thothians. These others are but my servants and
bodyguards.”

The captain looked surprised, even taken
aback. He looked around, as if to see if anyone was listening
before he spoke. “Did you say, Par Sinch?”

Now Tanch looked surprised. “Yes,” he said,
uncertainly.

The captain studied the group for several
moments. “If I didn’t know better, I might mistake you for a wizard
of the Tower of the Arcane and these bodyguards for church knights.
But since any fool knows that months ago the Thothians issued an
edict ordering the arrest of wizards and church knights on sight,
you must, of course, be joking.”

The second guard nodded knowingly, but
gripped the hilt of his sword.

“
Well said, sir,” said
Tanch without missing a beat. “A joke, it was. A bad one at that. I
trust you will forgive me my foolishness. I am but a simple spice
merchant seeking new markets for my wares. I hoped that if people
thought me a wizard, I would garner more respect and more
customers. I had no idea that magic users had come to disfavor in
this fine land. What a fool you must think me.”

The captain looked
relieved. “Don’t let it trouble you. A man must feed his family
after all. Note well that the guardsmen of the 4th Gate,” he said,
looking at his comrade, “could not be fooled by your charade. We
knew at once that you were a fraud.”

The lanky guardsman nodded. “That’s right,
you can’t fool us. We’re no dummies,” he said, and then hacked up a
wad of phlegm and spit most of it on the ground by the gate, the
balance dribbled down his beard.

“
The toll for foreigners
to pass this gate is one silver piece or ten bronze rings,” said
the guard captain. “I trust you will be heading straight to the
spice market on Brick Street.”

“
Where else?” Tanch turned
to Dolan. “Pay the good Captain.”

Dolan pulled out a Lomerian silver star from
his pocket and handed it to the guard through the bars.

Theta stepped forward. “Where on Brick
Street might we find the best spice dealer?”

The captain smiled and nodded ever so
slightly. “There are many spice dealers there and I know little of
them.” He glanced at his comrade who was busy stomping an ant. “I
heard once though of a good one on the ground floor of the building
just past the red awning about midblock. But I could be
mistaken.”

The captain turned to his comrade. “Open the
gate. Let them pass.” As the guard pulled out the keys for the
gate, the captain stepped closer to Tanch and lowered his voice.
“Keep your staff quiet in Tragoss, Par. The Thothians do arrest
wizards on sight. Go carefully.”

Tanch nodded. “Thanks.”

The group filed through
and proceeded down the narrow alley. At its end, it seemed as if
they had entered a different city entirely. Here, the sprawling
warehouses and wide lanes gave way to narrow alleys winding betwixt
one and two-story brick or stone residential buildings, some more
hovel than home.

Beggars lined the streets.
They extended cups or bowls as the men passed, entreating them for
spare coin or scraps of food, though they kept themselves at arm’s
length from the armed men. Each side of the street held gutters
that served as open sewers that flowed with filth and foulness.
Rats, some small, some as large as cats scurried fearless along the
gutters and swarmed over the occasional corpse, fallen and
forgotten amongst the muck. Along each street, some men and women
lay unmoving. They seemed dead, save for when a passing rodent took
a nip at them—then they would curse and stir and sometimes strike
out. The people ignored these sorry creatures. Only that they
stepped around them, told they even saw them at all.

“
Dead gods, what has
become of this place?” said Ob through the cloth he held to his
face to keep down the stench. “When I’ve been here before, much of
the inner city was poor, but nothing like this. I heard that the
Thothians promised that if the people followed their god and obeyed
their edicts there would be an end to poverty. They said they would
restore dignity to the downtrodden and fairness for all.” Ob
stumbled over a body fallen in the street, and barely kept his
feet. “They seem to have mucked that up a bit.”

“
They’ve destroyed these
people, and their culture,” said Claradon.

“
The price of stupidity,”
said Theta.

Tanch looked down in horror at the bodies
and the beggars they passed. “Is it a plague? What ails these
people?”

“
Hopelessness and
despair,” said Ob. “And with that came smoking of strange plants
and eating foul powders of foreign make. That much had started when
I was last here.”

“
No one seems to care,”
said Claradon. “They just walk past the fallen.”

“
Can the authorities do
nothing?” said Tanch.

“
They are doing
something,” said Ob. “They’re letting them die. Some say the
Thothians are the source of these poisons. That they brought them
in to keep the people docile.”

“
Will we pass Brick Street
on the way to the tower?” said Theta.

“
I don’t know,” said Ob.
“You think there is more than spice merchants there?”

Theta nodded. “Dolan, buy some fruit, and
ask that merchant.”

Dolan was back in a few moments with small
bag of apples. “Six blocks north, and two or three east.”

“
Not on our way,” said
Ob.

“
The tower first, and then
Brick Street,” said Theta.

***

People crowded along the low stone wall that
surrounded a well-appointed house of brick and stone, watching a
group of monks drag an elderly man from the house. Other monks and
guardsmen threw his paintings, books, and other belongings from the
windows.

“
You’ve no right, no
right,” shouted the man. “I’ve done nothing.”

“
Nothing?” said a monk. He
grabbed the man and pushed him to his knees. “Yes, fool, you have
done nothing. There are people starving in the streets and yet you
live in a rich house. Do you care nothing for your fellow
citizens?”