by Max Irons
"Is that all?" asked Iven. "The way you've been talking, it sounded like there was a lot more to it."
"Lonni is very picky about the way her laboratory and workshop are set up," said Rand. "You might be regretting that choice to work for free by sunset tomorrow."
Iven grunted and said nothing.
"After that, you two are free to go about and do whatever it is you need to." Rand scratched his head. "However, I wouldn't go and get a room at an inn just yet. I imagine Corinna will want to house you during your stay."
"His wife," mumbled Iven before Galeron could ask the question.
"She will be eager to repay you for saving Lonni," said Rand.
"Even though it was our fault in the first place?" asked Galeron.
"Hmm, maybe you shouldn't say that part." Rand gave a nervous laugh. "I'm already going to have enough explaining to do as it is."
The journey continued. The highway passed several large farms, fields filled with maturing wheat stalks. Galeron watched some of the field laborers hack away with their scythes at more matured sections of the crop. He brushed sweat from his eyes and shook his head. At least there was some good to come from Melia's change of heart. That could be him right about now.
"Considering your fortune?" asked Iven.
Galeron turned. He had peaked out from under his hat, looking across at the fields. "Just thinking I'm glad it's not me."
"Aye." Iven laid back down and put his hat back over his face. "Steady food is nice. Breaking your back to get it, not so nice."
Azura came into view a few hours later. A smattering of villages, their huts and buildings clustered around plowed fields, cropped up alongside the highway a few leagues before the walls. Water lanes ran parallel to the road on either side, various side channels supplying the outlying areas with fresh water. As they drew closer, the water lanes thickened, becoming wider in breadth and crowned with battlements as they stretched over the towering, light brown walls of the city.
Squat, round towers bristling with long bronze-barreled culverin stood watch over the plains. The glint of metal helmets in the fading light made Galeron squint. He put a hand up to shield his eyes and looked closer. A doubled watch. Had they heard of the trouble the caravan encountered? The sergeant inspected each carriage as it passed through the gates, checking trade papers and searching the cargo. If this were any indication, they had definitely heard of the Drake activities.
If Galeron had to guess, Azura was a newer city. He wasn't sure, but the grid-like pattern its buildings and streets followed seemed to bear him out. It was a vast concourse of right angles and sharp turns, with wide paved boulevards and ample room at storefronts to tie up horses or park a carriage. Such thoughtfulness implied order and purpose in construction, a vast difference from the tangled concoctions of other cities like Harracourt, which grew up organically over the centuries. In fact, despite the wide streets, only a handful of cart merchants plied their trade. Everyone else seemed to have a permanent shop.
"I do believe I'm seeing buildings," said Iven. He sniffed. "Baking bread, livestock, and corruption." He sighed. "It feels good to be back in the city."
Like most cities in Broton, Azura sported the same red clay roof tiles, but masons pieced together the city's buildings out of a darker brown stone, much like the outer fortifications. Strangely, Azura didn't sport the tall, slender towers of Harracourt. The tallest structure, the keep of Azura's baron near the city center, only stood about five floors high.
"Kind of a short city, though, isn't it?" asked Iven.
"It's on purpose," said Rand. "Coastal cities have much rougher weather, and Azura is the naval hub for Broton. Double risk from storms and foreign ship attacks. Squat buildings, while not necessarily pretty, do much better with extremes."
Rand navigated the carriage toward Azura's center. They drove past the keep, down a few streets, and emerged alongside a circular inlet cut into the city. Tall masts swayed gently above a short wall, also patrolled by soldiers. Galeron raised his eyebrows. Here was the heart of Soren's navy. If the ships were one mast apiece, their number was smaller than he might have expected.
The carriage stopped next to a large two-floor building across the street from the wharf. A half-built structure sat next to it, workers swarming over it like ants on leftover food. Rand dismounted and knocked on the door of the finished shop. A short, portly woman stepped out, clad in a red cotton dress covered in a leather smock, and jumped into his arms, kissing him with gusto.
Galeron averted his gaze and slid down from the roof. Iven followed suit and put his hat back on. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head.
Lonni hopped out of the carriage and looked toward the driver's bench. "Where's Papa?"
"Greeting your mother," said Iven, grinning.
Lonni glared at him before slapping him across the face and striding away.
Iven put a hand the red welt and grimaced. "I don't blame him, but was that really necessary?"
Galeron sighed. "Something broke between your mind and your mouth."
"No, that's you," said Iven. "For me, the connection between mind and mouth works too well."
"I'm not going to argue," he said, following Lonni.
Rand walked past him, a bag of jingling coins in his hand. "Be back soon."
Lonni gave her mother a hug. "It's been too long."
Corinna patted her on the back. "And you've grown again."
"No, Mama, my clothes still fit," she said. "You're just shrinking."
Corinna scoffed and pulled away. "Don't remind me."
"The foundry isn't finished yet?" asked Lonni, at the construction project.
"I'm afraid not. We've had bad weather the last few weeks. Couple that with shipping delays and you have what you see." She gestured towards Galeron and Iven. "Who are these young men?"
Lonni pointed them out in turn. "Iven Porter and..." Her face soured. "Galeron Triste. Hired hands."
Corinna smiled, wrinkles falling into well-worn marks. A happy woman most of the time, then. "Welcome to Azura. Hopefully traveling with my family wasn't too much bother."
Iven grinned, bowing and sweeping his hat from his head with a flourish. "No trouble at all, madam."
She waved off his compliment. "Call me Corinna. Madam is for old women."
"Did everything else arrive, Mama?" asked Lonni.
Corinna nodded. "It's all in the workshops. I didn't know where you wanted anything, so I just had them stack it in the middle."
Lonni gestured to them. "We'll take care of that before unloading the dust."
Galeron and Iven followed her into the shop. The immediate room housed a long counter at one end with stacks of logbooks and several inkwells sitting to one side. Empty barrels lined the walls, and a lantern lit the room from the wall behind the counter. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath their boots as they crossed into the adjoining room. Several long tables stood at the center amid a pyre of crates, barrels, and various smithing tools.
Lonni pointed at the tables. "You'll need to clear it and line them up against the walls."
Iven shot Galeron a bemused look. "Not too bad." He grabbed one of the crates and hoisted it up. His muscles bulged, and his face turned as red as Galeron's before he put the crate back on the table. "Boiling bones, that's heavy."
"I forgot to mention that the crates have my metal ores for smithing," said Lonni. She smirked. "They're quite...dense, so be careful."
Iven scowled. "Thanks for mentioning it."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Galeron grabbed one end of the crate and helped Iven lift. His arms burned with fire as they moved it a few feet from the table top to an out of the way spot. It hit the ground with a severe clunk. He shook his arms out and looked at Iven, raising his eyebrows.
"Don't you say anything," Iven growled.
"Didn't speak," Galeron said.
"But you were thinking it."
Galeron shrugged and selected another crate. "You only
wish you knew."
Iven snorted. "I always know."
They hoisted another crate. "Don't spoil your humility," Galeron grunted.
They set it down next to the first, and Iven rubbed his bicep. "I'm the most humble person there is."
After four more crates of ore, they managed to get to the tables. Galeron and Iven lined them along the walls and turned to Lonni.
"What next?" asked Galeron.
She stared at the tables, one hand on her chin. "Actually, I don't think I want the tables like that. I think they need to be in rows across the room." Lonni pointed to the remaining pile of supplies. "You'll have to shift all of those to make space."
Iven groaned, and Galeron elbowed him in the ribs. "It's not that complicated."
"Complicated? No, but difficult? Absolutely." He glared at Lonni. "Any reason you didn't mention this before now?"
She gave him a blank look. "I couldn't know for sure until I saw it."
His shoulders sagged. "Save me, Galeron."
He pushed him forward. "Come on. The longer we dither, the longer it takes."
"You and your logic."
They dragged the remaining supplies away from the center of the room and lined the tables to her instructions.
"Maybe not," Lonni said after they finished. "I think it looked better the other way."
Iven leaned his forehead against the wall and banged it several times. "We should have charged coin."
Lonni shrugged. "Your loss."
Galeron suppressed his own scream of futility. Once could be passed off. Twice, well, that was starting to push believability. What's got her feathers all ruffled? They picked up the tables again and shifted them.
"I swear she hates us," Iven whispered. "I don't know why, and I don't know what you did."
"I didn't do anything," Galeron said. "Not unless you count saving her life."
"Maybe it's a control thing." Iven leaned against the table once they'd set it down.
"What?" Galeron asked.
Iven shook his head as they grabbed the table next to Lonni and resumed whispering when they were out of earshot. "She likes being in control, and this is how she's getting it back." He paused for a moment and grinned. "I'd pay good coin to watch you court her."
Galeron glared at him. Court Lonni? "No. No way."
Iven smothered a laugh. "Two of the most controlling people I know. Should I sit back and watch the fun, or rent a fight pit and let you two go at it?" He glanced at the ceiling. "Fight pit. I could charge for admission."
"Are you going to gossip like old housewives or actually work?" asked Lonni.
"You could help a bit," Iven said.
"Someone has to keep an eye on you two," Lonni said.
Iven shrugged. "Well, then you get what you paid for."
They worked the rest of the evening and deep into the night, arranging and rearranging the supplies and tools until Lonni declared them too smelly to be around, and she retired to the upstairs quarters. Galeron and Iven slept outside under a lean-to attached to the building, sleeping rolls spread among anvils and barrels. Galeron slept fitfully in the heat, waking several times throughout the night.
When light broke, he decided to get up. There was no sense in lying around when he couldn't rest. Iven grumbled something in his sleep as Galeron shuffled about the lean-to, strapping his sword belt to his waist. He held up his tattered tunic. He'd need a new one. Galeron nudged Iven with his foot.
"What?" he moaned.
"How much coin do we have left?" Galeron asked.
"Enough to buy a donkey, but that's it," Iven mumbled, eyes half open. "Why?"
"We're going to the Consortium today," Galeron said. "We can't go looking like beggars."
"We might as well be," Iven said.
Galeron nudged him again. "I need you to go get me a new tunic."
Iven scowled. "And what are you going to do?"
"Bathe," he said. "Public spot, talkative people. Where else can I learn about the Consortium? You might want to consider it, too."
Iven mumbled something under his breath and nodded. "All right, I'm getting up." He grunted and rubbed his eyes. "Why are we sell-swords again?"
Galeron smiled. "Because weapons are cheap."
"And land isn't." He nodded. "Just wanted to make sure."
Galeron donned the tattered garment and walked to the street.
"No shield?" asked Iven.
"We're in a city," said Galeron. "I've got my sword."
He walked down the paved road and consulted a multi-directional sign at an intersection. Finding the arrow pointing toward the baths, he moved in the appropriate direction. Very few people were out and about just after dawn. Some merchants had already thrown open their windows, and he passed several bakeries, closing his nose to the intoxicating scent of sweetbread. Iven shouldn't have a problem getting a new tunic for him, if he could avoid the food stalls.
Azura's lone bathhouse was a large squat building situated next to a barber shop and a cobbler. People might not be out for commerce, but hopefully someone was in the baths with knowledge of the Consortium. He walked across the tiled atrium and entered a side room filled with long benches and shelving for clothes. A closed door on the other side of the room, if the baths of Trinetta and Azura were the same, led to the bathing pool.
Galeron unbuckled his sword belt and laid it and the weapon on a shelf. He pulled his boots off and was about to strip out of his tunic when soft footsteps approached. He turned to the door, but saw only a flash of very pale skin before the person screamed and darted back behind the doorway. What had that been about?
Lonni's head poked around the door frame, her long hair dripping wet and eyes ablaze.
"Galeron Triste, blast it, what are you doing here?" she asked.
Galeron blinked, face flushing. Why was Lonni in the men's changing room? "I was going to bathe. Am I in the wrong room?"
"No, you great oaf, men and women bathe together in Azura." Her lips drew back in a snarl. "Why did you follow me?"
Galeron raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to one side. They certainly did things differently by the sea. Trinetta always had separate changing rooms. "If that's true, what's your problem?"
"What?"
He spread his arms. "If men and women bathe together, why are you hiding?"
"I...you followed me." Her glare intensified.
Galeron shook his head. "No. I'm here to take a bath. Didn't you say something about that last night?"
"Turn around, Galeron," she hissed.
"Why?"
"Just do it, or I'll come over there and rip your eyes out," Lonni snarled.
Galeron leveled his gaze. "You'd have to do it without clothes." Her eyes darted back and forth, and he turned around. "I'm not Iven, though, so I'll do it."
"You look and you die."
"Are you that ugly?" he asked, suppressing a smile.
Clothes rustled. "I swear I'm going to beat you senseless."
"At least you'll be first in line," Galeron said. "I don't have Iven's long list of heartbroken ladies."
"Shut your mouth. I thought you were the quiet one."
He smiled. "When it suits me."
Her boots clomped across the floor, and she grabbed his shoulders from behind in a vice grip. "They might call you the Deathstalker, but if I catch you with me at the baths again, you'll be a dead stalker." With that, she was gone.
Galeron stared at the doorway for a moment. That had been unexpected. Should he tell Iven? No, if he did, he'd never let him hear the end of that one. The rest of his bath was uneventful. A few men knew where the Consortium was, but other than that, they didn't know much about getting in and actually seemed puzzled by the question. Was he worrying over nothing? He left clean but thoroughly frustrated.
Iven handed Galeron his new tunic back at Rand's shop. It was a drab gray and a size too big, but at least it was intact and serviceable. He slipped it on and nodded.
"What did we le
arn?" asked Iven.
Galeron sighed. "I can find the Consortium, but that's about it."
"Would that magic edict from the king get us through?" asked Iven.
"Doubtful." Galeron ran a hand through his damp hair. "It only applies to the city watch."
"So how do we get in?"
Galeron paused and stared at the sky. If it were his informer days, he'd go in a disguise or sneak in at night. Nighttime wouldn't help. There was no guarantee Magister Russo would be there so late. Disguises were also expensive, and this was the elite of the elite. They wouldn't be wearing common travelers' garb.
"Let's go take a look," Galeron said.
They walked the increasingly crowded streets, past the public harbor, and up a small hill to a vast complex of buildings. If Azura proper had been purposefully designed, then the Consortium had been an afterthought. Pathways wove in and around buildings in spiraling twists and turns. The mainstay of the campus, eight rectangular buildings sporting large exterior columns encircling the perimeter, had men, and some women, flooding in and out of them. Numerous smaller square structures of unknown purpose also received foot traffic. Galeron looked around. No soldiers, no system of checking to ensure only students wandered the complex.
"I think we were concerned over nothing," said Iven. "You worry too much."
"But which building is she in?" asked Galeron. "There are eight of them."
"Nine." Iven pointed. "There's a smaller one hiding behind that one at the top of the hill."
"Nine, then," Galeron said.
They walked up the hill toward the first building. "We probably should have discussed this sooner," Iven said, "but what are we going to tell her?"
"The truth," Galeron said. It couldn't be that hard.
"We walk in, say, 'Good morning, madam. You don't know us, but the leader of the Black Drakes wants to talk with you about the secret to all magic. Could you not tell him what he wants to know?' Is that really the best course of action?" he asked.
He had a point. That was a difficult truth to tell. Nothing was false, but would she believe it? If she were good enough to become a teacher here, and as a woman in Broton no less, they might have a hard time convincing her. They'd deal with that problem when it presented itself. Galeron looked at the first building. Atop the entrance, a sign read "Academy of Philosophy."