Before long the stretcher arrives, and I follow it back to the amphitheater. As I enter, I look around at the dozens of wounded city dwellers on makeshift beds. It appears that this conflict has been going on for a lot longer than I realized. A real battle of attrition, and one that surely can’t last for much longer.
It’s a frustrating wait as Lugg is conveyed to an area off to one side, and I can’t immediately see what is being done. But after twenty minutes or so, he is taken to one of the makeshift beds, and it appears that he is being competently cared for. While there is not exactly modern medicine here in the city, I can see that the healers have stitched up his wound. He is still wearing the bracelet, too.
I hesitate as I come to his side. He is sleeping, and the bracelet may be at risk of theft if I leave him. But if I take it off, any benefit that it is having could be lost, and Lugg’s life will be at risk once again.
“Sorry, Maleki,” I mutter.
I rip a scrap of bloodied fabric from my own cloak and tie it around his wrist to cover up the priceless artefact. Then, speaking to another member of the Elemental Hand Guild, I promise to return to check on him by morning, and then turn to leave.
Garner is deep in conversation with a stocky mustachioed city guard when I return to the city wall, but he breaks off to look at me as I approach. He smiles, wiping sweat from his brow. “You did so well, Daria. The supplies are here thanks to your work with the wagons, and we have arranged for them to be distributed to those most in need. It’s just a shame the lizard folk failed to stick to the plan.”
“Yes,” I say, recalling Connor’s casual dismissal of the lizard warriors’ deaths. “Though it was not their fault. Their losses are a cruel blow to the rebellion, and I think I know who to blame for that.”
He looks at me curiously, but doesn’t press me on my comment. Instead he asks, “What about P’oytox?”
“I don’t know – but he wasn’t among the group that came through the gate.”
“I really hope he’s not on that pyre, then,” he says, nodding towards the fields outside.
I walk past the pair and lean upon the wall. It is getting dark now, but sure enough, I can see that further back, close to the lake, the enemy have formed a pyre of bodies – mostly lizard warriors by the looks of things – and have flaming torches in hand.
“Oh no… please, please let it not be so,” I say softly.
To think that I returned to Shadow Kingdoms with the thought of coming to the Empire and saving P’oytox’s clan from the Knights of Dawn. I never thought I’d be standing watching as the knights burned them.
No doubt Connor would think I was an idiot for concerning myself with their fate. What did he call them? Digital tokens, that was it. I shake my head. To me, they are real people, even if they seem to vary a lot in terms of independent thinking. They think, that is for sure, and they care. Who is to say that they don’t also feel something when they experience pain or loss?
Garner comes to stand beside me, and I feel a little comforted by his presence. “We are all doing what we can, Daria,” he says. “Those lizard warriors were fighting for their homeland, and they gave their lives bravely and willingly. There is still more that we can do, and alliances that can be built. We have the city, and we have the food. The rebellion is not over yet.
“I guess.”
“And as for P’oytox, he has repeatedly shown himself to be difficult to kill.” He glances down at me with a knowing look, and I realize that he must not know all the details about the Genke heirloom, even although we fetched it together from the old knight Mac-Shinter.
“Let’s hope his luck persists,” I say feebly.
“Anyway, you must be tired.” Garner points to the soldier with the moustache that he was speaking to. “This guardsman here is named Jeffo. He offered to let me stay at an abandoned property near his family home. Perhaps you could stay there instead, as I have promised to remain on watch overnight, and help to organize the troops from the village.”
I thank my friend. The short guardsman with the bristly moustache briefly shakes my hand with a calm smile, and then walks with me down the granite steps.
Glancing around at the city from this unfamiliar angle as I descend, I can see that it has three main divisions – the southern part where we are currently, a north-eastern segment and a north-western segment, separated by internal walls which are about half the height of the external city wall. Lights, lanterns and torches dot the cityscape as the residents prepare for nightfall.
Overall, I think, as the last glimmering of light on its spires, granite and marble starts to fade, it really is beautiful.
Chapter 39: Katresburg
Before following Jeffo into the heart of the city, I ask him to wait by the entrance to the amphitheater and I return once more to check on my friend, hoping that he will be well enough to come with me.
The guardsman patiently waits by the stadium entrance, and I soon make out Lugg’s lank reddish hair among the beds where the injured lie. He is being tended to but is awake, and gives me a weak smile from the distance.
“The half-orc has recovered well,” one of the healers tells me – an older woman who looks serene despite the suffering all around her. “Check back in the morning, please – he needs to sleep.”
“Very well,” I say.
“And are you paying his fee?” she adds.
“Fee?”
“Ten gold for the healing, plus twenty silver for the overnight.”
Perhaps I look a little stunned at this, as I say nothing, and she adds: “The money is not for us, but for the gods. There is a war on. We can’t cover every newcomer to the city.”
“Fair enough,” I mutter, reaching into my coin purse and fishing out a handful of coins. Then something else occurs to me. “What about the lizard folk that were brought in here?”
“One was dead on arrival, but we have two who live yet.”
“The tall one with the blue skin?”
“He lives, but is badly wounded. In truth, we are not experienced in healing their kind, for they usually keep to themselves in the Great Swamp. But I can say one thing for them – they are tough.”
“Do I need to pay for them too?”
She blinks at me a few times. “We will take better care of them if you do, right enough.”
“Hmm.” Perhaps through guilt as much as anything else, I pass her a further handful of gold and silver, wincing as I do so.
I had previously parted with thirty silver for my stay at the Black Swan Inn, and so as I leave the amphitheatre, my wealth stands as follows:
Copper: 11 Silver: 2288 Gold: 196
Jeffo escorts me round the vast building to the north. It is quite dark now, with only the occasional flickering torch sconce to see by, and I follow him away from the arena-like structure and along a wide street. Katresburg certainly looked like a gem of a city from a distance, but close up it is dirtier, smellier and more crowded than any city than I’ve been in so far. I see gangs of ragged children, but in contrast to the light-hearted games of chase that I witnessed back on Dubasa, these kids just stand around listlessly, staring. They are thin, too, as are most of the adults.
We continue towards a wide archway with metal grid gates that are folded right back against the wall itself. “Katresburg has three neighborhoods,” Jeffo confirms to me, pointing as he walks, “and these gates in the internal walls are normally a place where tolls are charged. But with everything else that has been a-going on – war, rebellion, and whatnot – the gates are only lightly guarded, and nobody much is challenged or stopped. We should be fine now.”
Sure enough, when we get to the gate there is only a single guard on duty and no toll, and we pass through into the north-eastern part of the city. It is an even more densely packed area, with winding streets going off in every direction, and no sense that city planning has ever touched the design of the place.
And if it smelled bad near the amphitheater, it’s truly terrible here
.
“Bit pongy ‘ere?” says Jeffo, perhaps noticing my reaction. “Folks are a-throwing their business out to the streets. Can’t take the pigs and goats out to pasture no more, either.” And indeed we have to tread carefully; fortunately the worst of the muck heaps have been swept to the sides of the narrow streets, leaving a path in the middle which is only a couple of inches deep with compacted dung.
We take a left and then a right. “Are your family going to have enough room to host me?” I ask, hurrying to keep up, and clutching at my wounded side again, as it is throbbing.
“Shouldn’t be no problem. Folks from the house beside us left town when things started to go bad with the Empire. Didn’t want no trouble, they said, and didn’t care for monitors, witches and the like, anyhow, or revolutionaries either. So they’re gone, and their house is empty now. Nothing fancy, but it’s a bed, isn’t it?” He flashes a broad smile, his mouth disappearing beneath his moustache as he does so.
When we arrive, the house does indeed turn out to be empty, other than a pair of goats who have already settled in the doorway for the night. I step gingerly past, thanking Jeffo as he continues on towards his own house, and I step inside to look around. Sure enough, it is very small, but I find a bed upstairs which looks moderately clean. I make use of my own bedroll all the same.
I am ready to sleep in the real world, too. It has been a long and focused day. But again I decide to take a quick look around the office. Now that Daria is safe and resting, I am keen to question Connor and Asma about their activities – and, frankly, to hold Connor to account for leading the lizard warriors into a bloodbath that seemed to benefit only him. It was inherently cruel. Plus, I don’t like the thought of working with someone who doesn’t care about the survival of his own followers.
But then, when I wriggle around inside the gaming pod, the exterior door won’t open.
Am I doing something wrong?
I take a deep breath, calm myself, and try again. I reach out, take hold of the metal bar, twist. No movement.
The little doors can be locked, I know, but it should automatically unlock from the inside when I move the bar. Is something blocking it on the outside? A heavy object leaning against it, perhaps?
I try one more time, wriggling onto my elbows and holding the bar with both of my hands, and straining to push it upwards, listening for the satisfying click that would suggest the door unlocking.
But nothing. I can’t move the bar at all.
I am stuck in the gaming pod, unable to get out.
* * *
What follows is a restless night’s sleep despite the comfort of the pod. I can’t put away the thought that someone has deliberately trapped me inside. And to what end, I wonder? My mind keeps returning to my stern words to Connor near the gates, and his response. He spoke like someone who knew he had the upper hand, and perhaps this is what he had in mind.
By morning I wake, fully immersive in the game, and pull some rations from my pack in the gloomy surroundings of the abandoned house. But I can barely bring myself to eat. I take a couple of strips of dried fruit, and wash it down with a drink from my waterskin.
I briefly wonder what Lugg would make of this place. He’s been in worse, I know; I don’t suppose that the orcish caves were too clean or fragrant. And where did he grow up, exactly? In Zagra? He hasn’t talked about his childhood much, though he has shared stories of his time in the town guards.
And then I catch myself acting as if my friends are real, again. NPCs didn’t have childhoods, they have backstories. And nothing before Imperial Year 1 actually happened; it’s written history, no more.
But yet…it all seems very real to the people themselves.
Having agreed to return to check on my friend at the amphitheater today, I am soon ready to leave. The goats have already made themselves scarce, and as I step out into the street, I nearly bump into Zakira, who is approaching the hovel’s doorway.
She smiles and reaches one hand out to touch my arm. “Daria. I spoke to Garner, and he told me where to find you.”
I step towards her, glaring, one finger pointing accusingly towards her chest. “What is going on? I can’t get out of my gaming pod! I am stuck. What kind of sick joke is this?”
Her mouth moves silently for a moment, and then she grips my arm and begins to lead me up the street. “I don’t know, Lucy,” she says, “but that is very strange indeed. Please, let me take you to Connor’s house. I’m not in the office myself, but we can find someone there who can check on your pod. I guess there must be a malfunction of some kind. I am so sorry. It must be frightening, but we will get it sorted, I promise.”
“Very well,” I say brusquely, glancing sideways at her. Her eyes are wide, her pretty elven face determined and a little worried-looking. For the second time, I wonder to myself if I am being just a little too naïve to trust this young woman. Is she just a convincing actor? She has been by Connor’s side at every turn. Could she be conspiring against me with him, and just working to keep me on side a little longer?
I will have to wait and see what Connor Champion himself has to say. For while I know on one level that the pod is perfectly safe, I can’t help but feel trapped and deeply anxious.
We take a left and then a right, and soon reach one of the grand internal city gates, again unguarded.
“This leads to the merchant neighborhood,” says Zakira as we pass through the portal together. “It’s a bit more pleasant than the one where you’ve been, as you’ll soon see. If I’d realized, I would have asked you to come and stay with us. The town house is really nice and comfortable.”
Sure enough, the streets transform almost immediately to much wider and cleaner surroundings after we pass through the internal gate to the neighborhood. There are ornate copper lamps, neatly paved road surfaces – and no bad smells at all that I can detect. In fact, quite the opposite – every so often along the road there is a blossom tree, and I pick up scents of mandarin and peach wafting through the air.
“This is where the more successful merchants, business folk and craftsmen live,” says Zakira, gesturing to some of the buildings as we pass them. “City elders and administrators, too – and most of the magic users. It was once a major centre for the sorcerers and witches of the Empire.”
Glancing beyond our current street, I can see some of the beautiful spires that were visible even from back in the forest. Nearby are large, detached stone houses, and just behind them I see a tall granite building, glistening in the morning sunshine, with a balcony that runs all the way around the upper floor.
This really is how the other half live.
“Wait – did you say crafters?” I respond after a pause, something stirring in my memory, and look around at Zakira as a pair of older woman walk past us in the street, closely followed by a city guard in uniform. I have noticed that most of the people around here look better fed, too.
“Yes. I believe so.”
“You don’t happen to know of a blacksmith, do you? I am looking for one, a woman by the name of Amelia-something.” I hesitate, trying to remember the family name by visualising the sign outside the blacksmith’s shop back in Vel. Praxer? Prexhart?
“I think it was Amelia Praxis,” I finish, although I’m not too certain.
“Oh, yes, I think so,” Zakira replies. “I’ve seen the sign. Let’s take this side street and we can pass by that way.”
I stop in my tracks, hesitating. “I mean, I do want to get to the city walls and check on my injured comrades. But if it won’t take us too far out of our way…?”
“It’s not really much of a detour at all, Lucy. Come on.”
She takes my hand for a moment, and we turn down a side street, which although less grand than the street we were on before, is similarly clean. I notice finely cast iron grates in the ground – there is drainage here, and no muck or dung in the streets. I wonder if the houses have running water, too. In fact, I’d be surprised if they don’t.
We t
ake two left turns in quick succession, and before long I see an ornate bronze-colored double gate, with figures of miniature dragons along the top in the place where some gates have spikes. Off to the side, carved into the stone of the wall, is a sign: Amelia Prexis – Master Smith.
Increase in skill level: Investigation level 16 (Spirit +3)
That bonus is kind of surprising… I had been planning to find the blacksmith, but it wasn’t an in-game quest. In fact, the in-game quests seem to be entirely malfunctioning, which is at least one area where things don’t seem to have gone back to normal in Shadow Kingdoms, despite PreacherKorp’s efforts and claims. In which case, how does the software know that I was looking for Amelia? Perhaps Connor Champion can explain that to me, too.
I push at the gate but it is locked, and there are no sounds of smithing coming from inside. I peek through the gap between the two gates, and am able to make out a large, well-appointed blacksmith’s yard. No tools are on display, but I can see a wide and surprisingly clean forge under a shelter but otherwise open to the elements. There are various barrels, and a doorway that is also closed, and perhaps locked.
For now, nobody seems to be home.
“Most tradespeople don’t open until ten around here,” says Zakira, coming to stand at my shoulder. I mentally call up the calendar:
Time: 09:17 Day: Twelfthday, month of Obanask Year: Imperial year 47
Fine. At least I know where the woman’s workshop is, and I can return when things are less fraught.
“Let’s move on, then,” I say.
“Yes. And don’t worry too much about your friends at the gate. The healers there are all very skilled, and the conflict has settled down to a stalemate once again, exactly as Connor predicted. The mercenaries outside have mostly returned to their tents, and the wounded have been taken away by wagon.”
The Call of the Coven: A LitRPG novel (Shadow Kingdoms Book 2) Page 27