Nyset walked up to the crier, careful not to get in anyone’s way.
“News, m’lady?” the crier asked, leaning forward, eagerly grinning and nodding. He around six feet tall and had a speckling of dark hair over a long jaw.
“Yes, please.” Nyset smiled and fished one of the twenty or so marks out from a hip pouch. She was surprised to find it felt like they were all still there. She placed it in the crier’s hand, who then jammed it into his coat pocket.
“Local news or realm news?”
Nyset tapped her lip. “Realm.”
“Realm news! Here’s the realm news!” He dramatically threw his arms into the air. “Villages in the west are burnin’. Men, women, children, dogs, cats, sheep, all murdered, raped, eaten by the Death Spawn razing the lands.” Seems true, Nyset thought, besides the sheep raping, though Death Spawn were an unpredictable lot. “Shamans in the Great Retreat are pulling out all the stops, gettin’ their best and deadliest weapons against the marching horde of demonic bastards. Something’s changed in the forest called the eh—” The crier extracted a rolled up strip of paper from his pocket, glanced at it, then tucked it back in. “The Woodland Plunge. The darkness there is gone and some say it’s safe for travel now.” Perhaps the works of her friends? “Mean old King Ezra holes himself up in his keep, never leaves anymore. Some say he’s stricken with the brain sickness.” He was a madman when she met him, nothing changed there. “There been rumors o’ Northman seen coming in from the Mountains o’ Misery,” The young man stopped to take a breath. Northman, did they still live? How could they survive in such cruel conditions?
A few people crowded around to get an earful free of charge.
“The Silver Tower burns and spreads its wicked smoke over the realm. Some say the smoke carries disease and the air close to it should be breathed through a shirt. The Sand Buckeyes south of Lich’s River have doubled in population this year. Amber Bongols have migrated south to the Far Realms for the coming winter. The—”
“That’s enough realm news, thank you.”
“Oh, good day to you then. Thank you very much for your patronage.” He tipped his wide-brimmed hat.
“And the local news?” She held up another glittering mark and put it in his dirt-creased hands.
He grinned and bit his lower lip with all of his front teeth. He puffed his chest out and sucked in a great breath.
The words spilled out. “The Earl has warned that the Festival of Flames this year will be a smaller display than usual as the city is short on resources.” Because they’re being used for war, Nyset thought. “Fang Cress addiction is on the rise in Dirt Bottom, with more becoming addicted and causing troubles for people in the Middle and the Center.” No surprise there. “The fish eatin’ Sisterhood of Herbalists have climbed into bed with the Arch Wizard, some say they’re planning to take over the city and oust the Earl.”
“News travels fast,” Nyset blurted. “Wait — did you say oust the Earl?”
“What’s that?” the crier yelled in her face. “Sorry, habit,” he lowered his voice.
“Thank you,” Nyset mouthed and walked away.
The crier continued. “The Middle is planning to raise money for a new statue of the Earl and…” The crier’s bleating blended into the din of the background.
“Did you hear that, Claw?”
He was staring up at the sky, mouth hanging open. She poked him in the ribs. “Huh?” he gasped.
“Did you hear the crier?” Nyset asked and took the mare’s reins from him.
“Someone’s crying?”
Nyset tilted her head at him “Aren’t you supposed to be guarding me and not burning your eyes out in the sun?”
“Told Ghostwalker to watch over you, not to worry, Mistress. His eye is better than any o’ mine.”
“Ghostwalker doesn’t appear to have eyes to me. How does he go about watching me?”
Claw turned his face from the sky to look at her, seeming to have some difficulty in doing so. His gray eyes went wide with a touch of madness. Nyset instinctively inched back. “Well. He… can feel things, like danger. He tells me when I should be looking out for you and where the threat is.”
“That is peculiar.” Though she had seen stranger things with Juzo’s sword Blackout. She remembered after she’d entered the weapon, it had apparently killed a Silver Tower healer and injured Walter of its own volition. “I’m glad he’s watching me, though,” she winked at him.
Claw scratched his neck and shrugged. “You’re missing out on some gorgeous clouds. Look at ‘em!” He pointed up.
Nyset put a hand over her brow, shielded her eyes and followed his gaze. She was prepared to tell him that they had to stop wasting time until she saw it. The clouds took on the shape of a galloping horse, trimmed with amber light along the belly and legs. She watched the cloud drift and one of the horse’s legs gradually extended, giving it the appearance of being in motion. “Wow… it’s beautiful, Claw.” Nyset had to exert a bit of willpower to drag her eyes away from the beauty above.
“Claw,” she poked him in the shoulder, frowning, “did you hear that the crier knew I’d let Lena join us?”
“Mhm. Yeah, I heard.”
“You did?” Nyset slightly shook her head. “Then why did you say earlier…” She sighed heavily. “No matter. Apparently, the Earl thinks we’d try to oust him. That must be only rumor… it’s absurd, don’t you think?”
“One way to find out.”
“Right, let’s be on our way then.” They started off, looking for the next gate to pass into the Center. “One more thing, Claw. I really need you to try to have a little more restraint with people. You can’t go around beating everyone you think shows a little disrespect.”
Claw stopped, swallowed hard and he lowered his head. “Alright,” he murmured and looked at the ground. “I was just trying to help,” he muttered, then kicked stone into a wall. His piercing eyes and dangerous gait fell away, leaving him looking as shameful as a child who had disappointed his mother.
“No, no. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, truly I do.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe, instead of whacking someone with your sword, you could try growling at them like you did with the boy Aris?”
He nodded and met her eyes. “Suppose I could do that.”
It was strange that he always tried so hard to please her. What had she done to deserve his loyalty? The notion of having followers was still bizarre to her and somewhat discomforting. “However, if there are Death Spawn or killers about, please do what you do best.” She grinned at him and he grinned back.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Oh please, call me Nyset when we’re together. Save Mistress for in public… for the sake of appearances.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Think I’ll stick with Mistress, less to remember.”
She shrugged. There was no arguing that logic.
A man barreled past Nyset from behind, thudding into her shoulder and almost knocking her over. She slitted her eyes, feeling a burst of anger well from her chest and flare with the Dragon in her eyes. “Someone’s in a rush,” she said through her clamped jaw.
Claw growled and slapped his sword against his leg.
The man wore a well-tailored forest green tunic with golden filigree around the cuffs and neckline. His boots were unusually clean and he carried a leather satchel over his shoulder. He looked back and threw her a disdainful sneer. She saw his skin was dark, his face and full lips familiar, but she couldn’t remember why.
“Where have I seen him?” she asked Claw.
He sucked his teeth. “Don’t know.”
“I appreciate you not responding with violence.”
“I’m turning a new leaf, as they say in the East.” Claw bowed slightly.
They passed a merchant selling cheese and tomato filled dumplings. Nyset swooned and sucked on the intoxicating air. “I can’t resist anymore. You hungry?”
Claw shrugged
. “Could eat.”
Nyset walked up to the cart. “Two please.”
The merchant beamed up at her and paused in the middle of stuffing raw dough with cheese. “Just a moment, please.” Her hands were dusted with a coating of flour. She brushed them off on her dark apron, drawing white streaks down the front.
“What do you call these?” Nyset asked. “Never seen them before. They smell incredible.”
“Oh, thanks, dear. Call it Azzip. My grandmother made them for me when I was a kid. Thought others may like it too. So far, business has been good. One for the both of you, right?”
“Yes.” Nyset nodded.
“One mark please.”
Nyset handed it to her and the merchant handed them each a dumpling, loosely wrapped in brown paper. They were still warm on the outside.
Claw bit into his like a savage animal, ripping off most of it in a single bite.
Nyset gave hers a nibble, fearing it might be hot on the inside. It was.
Claw’s eyes bulged then he spat the half-chewed hunk of dough into his hand. “Ah! It’s on fire!” He scowled and hurriedly popped the cork from his waterskin and inverted it into his mouth. Rivulets of water trailed down his jaw, washing lines through a patina of dirt.
Nyset snickered and shook her head at him. “You silly man.”
“Sorry, should’ve warned you. Azzip stays warm, er, hot on the inside,” the merchant said sheepishly.
“Don’t worry, that’s just him.” Nyset waved her off. “Thanks, they’re delicious!” She took another bite of the Azzip, savoring the depth of flavors bursting out from the cheese. Nyset waved to the merchant and started off.
The merchant grinned at her, planting her hands on her narrow hips. She then started dusting them with flour and returning to her unfinished Azzip laying on a small table.
“Now, where are those elusive gates to the center?”
“There.” Claw nodded to a guard and winced.
She approached the imposing guard, almost as big as Grimbald. She steeled herself for all the potential ways he’d deny her entry.
“Welcome, Mistress. The Earl is expecting you.” The guard sniffed and adjusted his polished tower shield so they could pass.
Nyset squeaked with surprise. “Expecting us?”
“That’s all I know, ma’am.” The guard flicked a piece of dust from the corner of his shield, sending it drifting through the air.
She looked at Claw, who stared at the guard’s mighty shield.
“Alright then.” She strode through the archway. The archway was a series of five successively layered arches, wider on the outside and going deeper and narrower as they approached the arch they had passed through.
The Center had four walled rings that followed a similar structure to others before it. The concentric rings grew ever tighter as Nyset and Claw drew farther in towards the Center. The roads here were filled mostly by enormous houses that could’ve passed for mansions in Midgaard. The stones making up the narrow roads were cut in beautiful diagonals and were immaculately clean. Nyset had yet to see a single scrap of trash. She was determined to find at least one to make this place feel somewhat real.
Each successive ring they passed through had even bigger houses on the other side of the wall. Each house seemed to compete with their neighbors in window sizes, molding details, house height, and garden variety. A few spanned four stories into the sky. It was an incredible feat of craftsmanship that Walter and Grimbald would’ve appreciated.
The path leading up to Harwood Hold was steep and straight, the next three gates clearly visible from the first they’d passed under. She wondered if it was purposeful to make it easier for the nobles to visit each other. She guessed it was no coincidence that the gates between the Middle and Dirt Ring were staggered, making it more difficult to march upon the palace. Given the state of the people in the Dirt Bottom, she guessed revolution would be the last concern of most.
Nyset veered off the path to admire a garden behind an iron fence. Phoenix heads were forged between the balusters. The garden stood before a house painted white and trimmed with what was very likely real gold, given the way it reflected the sun. There were three pink flowers the size of her head protruding between the bars. Behind them, purple vines reached to the sky. A bush with bright orange needles had a series of green mouth-like traps dangling from the sides, sharp teeth crisscrossing on the outsides.
“Hi, there!” a woman’s voice called from above.
Nyset peered up and waved at her. “You have a lovely garden.” She was an elderly woman with an exuberant smile. Nyset felt her spirits lift at seeing someone so happy.
“Thank you, dear. Look out now, going to give them some water. They’re thirsty!” she said.
Nyset and Claw stepped away from the fence. The woman reached out with a watering pail and drizzled gleaming beads on the verdant patch of land.
“Such a waste,” Claw said.
“It’s a stunning garden, but I agree with you, Claw. There are far too many people who’d kill for the water these plants are getting.”
“Hey!” Claw shouted with his hands over his mouth to project his voice.
“Yes, young man?” The woman grinned down at him from the window, her white hair as white as the house.
Claw let out a soft laugh. “Instead o’ watering these plants, why don’t you go and give some water to the people in Dirt Ring, eh?”
Nyset started. “Claw we really shouldn’t meddle in—”
“Well, well aren’t we a bit presumptuous this morning?” The older woman laughed down at him.
“Other people’s business,” Nyset quietly finished.
“Do you know who runs the only free shelter for the poor in Dirt Ring?” the woman asked.
Claw opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came.
“My family.” Her bright smile became a hard line. “We give food, water, free clothing, beds to sleep on. And what do we get in return for our generosity? Scorn from hapless youths such as yourselves.”
“Youths?” Claw balked.
“You should learn to think before your words end up cutting you, young man. Assumptions are very dangerous.”
“Uh, sorry.” Claw awkwardly nodded.
The woman’s window slammed shut. She waved them off from behind the shimmering glass.
“Hm. A lesson for both of us, I suppose.” Nyset brushed her lips with her fingers.
Claw scratched his salt and pepper beard.
They made their way back to the road and passed through the next gate. Harwood Hold was an odd miniaturized version of King Ezra’s palace. It even had the same geodesic domes gleaming from the tops of a pair of twin spires on either edge of the palace. The same architect who had built the Midgaard palace had been commissioned for Helm’s Reach. He was a good architect, but severely lacked in creativity, Nyset thought. Though, could she do better? Doubtful. She needed to learn to stop making sweeping judgments about people.
Nyset peered over at Claw, huffing as they trudged up the ascending road. He looked old enough to be her father. The mare’s hooves clopped from behind. She realized she hadn’t spent the proper time to get to know him, despite all the time they’d spent together. These times were strange. The thought made her stomach squirm with an ugly hollow sensation. Everything was moving too fast all the time. She didn’t want to feel like she was merely using people for their utility, but did she really have a choice? There were always more imminent issues that needed tending. What was life for if not for the relationships we forged between each other?
“Claw, you told me before that you had searched for me for a long time.”
“Indeed, Mistress,” he breathed.
“How long was that?” She furrowed her eyebrows.
“Years. Many years…”
“What compelled you to look for me of all people?”
“The Oracle, of course.” He grinned at her and sweat trickled down his temple.
“The Or
acle? Where are you from, exactly?”
“I’m from everywhere, Mistress. The earth, the air, the stones, the stars above, just like you.”
Nyset huffed with exasperation. “I mean where were you born?” Imprecise questions get imprecise answers, she thought.
“Was born in the Far North, came here when I was a lad. That wasn’t known to you, was it?”
“The Far North… as in, you’re a Northman?”
Claw chuckled. “Aye, Mistress. I’m the King of the North. Every man’s a king somewhere, ain’t he?” Claw threw his arms into the air and shook his wrists.
Was it all an act or was he truly mad? Nyset wondered. “I don’t think so.”
They passed under the next set of gates and the guards let them through without any resistance.
Claw stopped to catch his breath. “You don’t believe me?”
Nyset gave him a wry smile.
“Just cause I don’t have my damned crown on doesn’t mean I’m not a King,” he said, laughing. “Surprised you of all men, a child in elder’s robes, would judge me by my looks so.”
“A child?” Her jaw dropped. “Well, had I realized my guard was royalty, perhaps I’d been treating you differently.”
“And you wonder why I never told you?” Claw snorted.
“You’re really from the North, Claw?”
“Really, Mistress.”
“What’s it like then?”
“Cold, painfully so. Life’s a struggle to survive there, makes men hard. Suppose much like life here, though at least there’s more you can eat…and of course, the cold isn’t always trying to bite through your bones and take your limbs during the long night.”
Nyset loathed the bitter winds that came in from Abyssal Sea during the winter months, but snow was rare here. She shivered at the thought of living in a snow-covered environment every day. “Have any family back home?”
“Nah, well, not anymore. All back in the dirt now. Killed by an invading clan who’d wanted our grains, the Poison Wolves. I’d already burned the grains, knowing the Wolves were coming. The Wolves didn’t like that…killed every man, woman, and child. Left a single survivor to tell their tale…” Claw stared into the horizon with distant eyes. “Was the tradition, anyway. Leave the survivor, usually the clan’s chief.”
A New Light (The Age of Dawn Book 5) Page 20