Leto and Chara stared at her in confusion. Esteban just sighed and tended the rabbits over the spit.
"What is it?" Leto asked her.
Ramora signed at Chara quickly.
"She says you can't be teaching me this, on account of you’re a Blessed of Grannax," she said, her voice heavy with resentment.
Leto chuckled. "I wasn't always, you know. There was a time, I was quite the hustler myself. My family was very poor, and often, the money I won was the only way we could all eat."
Ramora hesitated a moment then told Chara that while that may have been true for him, it wasn't the case for Chara.
Leto shrugged a little. "You never know where life is going to take you. She has a skill, and someday, it may be all that stands between her and starvation. It wouldn't be honorable of me to not help her develop such a potentially life-saving ability, now would it?"
The Blessed of Ramor began to argue that and then stood, having to think it through. Leto quirked an eyebrow as her face went through several expressions of confusion, then settled on angry when she realized he'd bamboozled her. Chara just snickered.
Looking to Esteban for help, Ramora found the big Cat shaking his head. "Don't bring me into this. She's going to figure it out with or without his help, and you know that already, my friend."
Collapsing under the weight of defeat, Ramora waved them on, but only after shaking a finger at Leto to let him know he was a very bad Blessed of the Emperor of Heaven.
Flopping down, she watched as Chara learned how to trick people out of their money. It annoyed her to no end, as it wasn't an honorable thing to do, though she had to admit Esteban was right. Sooner or later, the clever young woman would figure it out on her own. Leto wasn't doing anything but speeding up the inevitable.
Not to mention, he was damn sexy when he was being devious.
Ramora reminded herself that her Rabbit was a bad influence.
It whistled that it was a sexy influence.
She gave up.
Chapter Twenty-Five
THE CITY OF LANSING had stood since the early days of the Second Age, and was once known as the second capitol of the Golden Empire. During the Great Demon War, it'd been a bastion of light, repelling every attempt to breech its walls. Many had come seeking shelter within the city, safe from the rampaging hordes of Demon Seed.
Even after the end of the war, when Cynthanis had vanished, the ruling family of Lansing had never sought to try and take up Glyphnok, feeling they were unworthy to follow in the footsteps of the Immortal Emperor. Instead, they chose to rule over their corner of the Middle World with a just hand.
Until the Mage Wars broke out, when the sorceress Queen Shiza Tertis had traded her soul to the Demon Gods for power, and eternal youth. Much of the city had been destroyed during her mad rampage, the newly-risen zombie queen devouring her own people in an attempt to make herself look human again.
Put down by her own son, the Tertis family, who'd ruled Lansing since its first days, abdicated the throne, leaving it to more worthy souls in the Gahlanor family. The reconstruction had taken many years before the Mage Wars ravaged the land, Lansing being seen as weak and ripe for spoils. Worse, they'd given shelter to the Spellweavers, bringing the wrath of the Masters of Sorcery down on them.
When at last the war had died down, the valiant Gahlanor family had been brutally executed, and one sorcerer after another had briefly sat upon the throne, each assassinated by a rival in an attempt to lay claim to the massive city. Dark days followed as many fled, seeking peace elsewhere.
By the dawn of the Third Age, the Masters of Sorcery had abandoned the city as it teetered on complete collapse, each would-be king and queen incurring the wrath of nearby nations. A brief war with Wylcer to the west had been seen as the final nail in the coffin of the once glorious city, the powerful navy of the mighty nation leaving Lansing virtually defenseless.
With much of the city a sprawling ghetto, only those who were too afraid, old, ill, or infirm to leave had remained. With the departure of the sorcerers, even they looked about the desiccated city and wondered if they'd find better lives elsewhere.
Larisa Fel had been the salvation of the city, a heavily decorated war hero and Paladin of the Eternal Staff, she'd ridden into the city, looking to rebuild it to its former glory. Slowly, she had repaired the reputation of the once mighty kingdom, brought people back to its wide avenues, rebuilt its most legendary buildings, and reclaimed it from the precipice of oblivion.
Old and weary by then, she'd handed the newly reborn nation over to her son, who continued her good works. Through five generations, the Fel family made Lansing the jewel of the northeast again, a center of trade with the second largest seaport in the world, and a country that believed in freedom for all, a fact that irked the former rulers, the Masters of Sorcery, who more than dallied in the trade of Werebeast slaves.
At the height of its glory, the eldest son of Mace Fel, Untar, had been Blessed by Grannax upon his twentieth birthday before all the people of Lansing, as he stood giving a speech, promising to continue what his forbearers had started when Larisa Fel rode into the devastated city.
Within a year, Mace abdicated the throne, handing it over to his son, claiming that Grannax himself had seen fit to bless their nation. With humility, Untar had taken the role of king, and forged a treaty with six other countries on the northeastern continent, driving the Demon Seed far into the northwestern stronghold of Pirnot, where the zombie sorcerer King Hellius ruled. With a united front, corruption was pushed back, making the roads safe to travel, and the people breathed easier even as they rejoiced.
The mighty city of Lansing, with a Blessed of the Divine Tiger for a King, foretold a bright future for all north of the Yestin Sea.
As the days passed, and the small band continued their journey, Ramora began to find Leto's company more enjoyable than she'd expected. Her initial estimation of him proved false, as he was never anything less than a gentleman, though he remained casually flirtatious. More than that, she started seeing him as a friend, his naturally easy-going attitude often bringing a smile to her face.
Three days after meeting, they'd stopped for the evening in a small village, and over a late night of drinks, she'd listened as he told of the hardship his family had endured when he was a child. Refugees from a Demon Seed attack, they'd been forced to march day and night for almost one hundred miles to escape the forces of Pirnot to Tysol's north.
Two of his sisters had been badly injured during the attack, and subsequent trek, one of them losing an arm, the other a leg. Once they'd reached Tysol, they were just a small family among hundreds of refugees, the city overflowing with people seeking shelter as the Demon Kingdom had sought to expand its reach.
Times had been hard. His father, a cobbler, couldn't find work, and had eventually fallen to gambling and drink before being murdered in a back alley by a vindictive prostitute. His mother, devastated, had grieved, and then focused on feeding her six hungry children.
He'd watched her work herself to the bone, and began learning to hustle dice in order to put extra food on the table, before falling in with a street gang and nearly losing his life. He hadn't been able to avoid jail, though, and could never forget the look on his mother's face when she came to get him from the Constable.
Determined to make her proud, he'd turned his devious mind to helping others, and by the time he was an adult, worked for the Constabulary himself. His beloved mother, old before her time, had beamed with pride as her son walked his rounds, dedicated to helping those who dwelled in the slums, and protecting them from the ruthless street gangs he'd briefly been a member of.
It was all he ever could've asked for. Until the day Grannax saw fit to mark him as an agent of the Divine. His mother had seen that, too, before she died, her last words that she was so very proud of him.
Leto had never forgotten that his parents had died younger than they should have because of the Demon Seed. Leaving the Constable’s
Office, he'd joined the King's Army, serving Lord Entrigus, ruler of Tysol, as an officer in their never-ending border war with the forces from Pirnot.
His clever, nimble mind had soon earned him the honorary title of General, with a full battalion at his disposal, allowing him to carry out guerrilla warfare on the Demon Seed. Harrying them at every turn, Leto had become a hero of the nation, a symbol of hope to the people, and a constant source of joy to his sisters, who never failed to remind him how proud their mother had been of him.
When Untar's request had crossed Entrigus' desk, he had asked Leto to consider it. As grateful as the Lord was, he felt it was time the young Blessed step out onto the world stage, and fight the larger battles, taking the war to the Demon Seed with his special brand of tactics.
Honored, he'd boarded a ship bound for Wylcer, where he'd acquired a horse to ride the rest of the way to Lansing, determined to bring pride to his homeland as he fought against the minions of evil, no matter where they hid. Somehow, he felt his mother could see him from where she rested in Paradise, and was prouder still of the man he had become.
Saddened by his tale, Ramora couldn't help but smile at the same time. How could the children of that Black Bitch, Ker Zet, ever hope to defeat the High Gods when they had men such as this on their side?
They'd sat up till the wee hours, drinking, as he told her stories of his battles, and how Hellius himself cursed the name Leto Alimon. In his easy smile and merry eyes, she found hope that her vendetta against Draco may yet find a successful end.
The next morning, she'd been too hungover to think much of anything.
Two days later, they cleared the forest, and saw the city of Lansing, making Chara gasp in awe. By her side, Esteban grew wide-eyed, taking in the sight of the third largest city in the entire Middle World, home to more than two million people.
From the massive castle that dominated the central part of the city atop a natural hill, to the towering structures that spread out from it, it was a truly breathtaking sight to behold. The shining waters of the Yestin Sea spreading out from the south end of the city were marred only by the gargantuan seaport, a skeletal hand that clawed at the ocean, hundreds of ships berthed, arriving or departing as they watched.
"Now this is what I'm talking about," Chara exclaimed as they made their way towards the city, her face sporting a wide grin.
Ramora couldn't help but smile at her young companion. She'd walked the streets of Shinamorin, the platinum city that was home of the Ascended, and as such, was accustomed to wonders beyond what even Lansing had to offer. For Chara, however, who'd spent her life with her own home being the largest building in town, it was as awe-inspiring as Imicot's keep had been, but on a much grander scale.
The castle itself was larger than any building the young woman had ever seen, spreading out over ten full acres, the towering walls the symbol of hope that had once sustained the city through the most devastating war the world had ever known. Ramparts wide enough for three men to walk abreast were broken only by towering parapets that housed massive arbalests capable of firing a shot as far away as the docks.
Spreading out from there, built along wide avenues designed to accommodate heavy traffic, were buildings that sought to rival the castle itself. The Merchant Union Trade House, a thirty-story building, nestled against the House of Fel, a towering and legendary inn. Kormack's Tower, built after the Mage Wars, was home to an academy of sorcery and wizardry studies, taking up a full city block and reaching fifteen stories over the city.
Nothing topped the temples that had been erected to the Sky Gods, however. The stone sculptures of tigers that adorned the tops of both the shrines to Grannax and Isel were clearly visible from miles away, the ever-burning fires set into their eyes shining brightly. The House of the Dragon, a temple dedicated to the Sky Dragon, Rajan, rivaled them in beauty, as they and others strained higher into the air than anything else in the city. Smaller cathedrals of the Earth Gods stood in their shadow, and by the ocean, were more dedicated to the Sea Gods. All of them were works of art, marvels of engineering and construction that sought to take the viewer’s breath away at the magnificence.
More structures Chara couldn't even guess at the purpose of dominated her view as well, making her feel like a simple country girl all over again as she marveled at them all, trying to guess their function just from their form.
At the feet of these titans were shops and homes, a rolling sea of civilization that slowly petered out into abundant farmland, great silos dotting the landscape leading up to the city itself. While Lansing had come into view in mid-morning, it was late afternoon by the time they officially entered the city, and Chara's neck was starting to hurt from staring up so much.
Cobblestone echoed under their horses’ hooves as they made their way down Merchant's Row, an avenue thirty yards wide, lined with tents and stalls from which almost anything one could imagine could be found for an affordable price. Try as she might, Chara couldn't stop staring in amazement at the sheer number of people going about their daily lives, wagons rattling their way alongside carriages, and the nearly overwhelming number of sights she'd never thought to experience.
Weaving through the ever-growing traffic, they passed an eight foot Troll with pale blue skin haggling with a burly Dwarf over the price of his wares at one tent. On the other side of the street, an orange-skinned Ogre was arm wrestling with her green-skinned cousin from the southern continent as people cheered and placed bets. Nearby, a fair-skinned Surface Elf meandered alongside a dark-skinned Deep Elf, the two holding hands and chatting amicably as they passed a Halfling barker calling out to passersby about his unbeatable prices.
Then there were the Werefolk. Wolves, Foxes, Cougars, Alligators, and more animals than she'd ever imagined, walking upright as they made their way to their destinations, bartered goods, negotiated trades, or just strolled down the street. It was everything she'd ever dreamed and then some, going beyond any expectation she'd ever had.
At her side, Esteban watched as a few Werefolk nodded to him. He tried to greet them in return, overwhelmed by the new sights, smells, and sounds that closed in on him. His father had always told him the world was a wider place than he dreamed, but never had he thought it to be like this. He felt heady with the sight of a group of Jaguars talking casually under a lamppost, their relaxed posture easing many of his fears.
For Ramora, it just seemed loud and chaotic. Plus, something kept making her want to sneeze.
"We should find someplace to stable the horses, and get some rooms at an inn tonight," Leto commented. "We can try seeing Untar in the morning."
Ramora nodded, pointing to a side street. Her fellow Blessed gave his assent that they'd have better luck off the main avenue and they turned towards the smaller passage through the jumble of buildings.
Dismounting, they chose to walk, guiding the horses, looking for any kind of sign that would lead them to an inn. Quickly, they realized they were already lost in the maze of the city. With none of them having ever been there before, it seemed obvious in hindsight they should've asked directions sooner.
Flagging down a Constable, Leto made the inquires and the band was soon on their way to the nearest stable, which as luck had it, was adjacent to the reputable inn known as the Wanderer’s Rest. The officer had been happy to help two Blessed anyway, and bid them a pleasant evening as he continued on his way. Leto smiled a bit, remembering his own days in a uniform.
As night was falling, they found their destination. The stables, long and wide, cuddled the six-floor inn lovingly, a diminutive Wereraccoon tending the horses inside. Leto paid for care and feeding for them all, thanking the Were as Chara stared at him in awe until Ramora pointed out she was sleeping with a Jaguar.
Embarrassed, the young woman apologized, drawing a bit of laughter from the completely understanding Raccoon. He confided he got it all the time from people new to the city before taking their horses off their hands and sending one of his stable hands to let t
he innkeeper know they had company coming in.
Following the lad, they found themselves welcomed by a matronly Halfling woman, who made a fuss over two Blessed of the High Gods staying at her inn, and told them eagerly of the time Rumilla Descartes herself had slept under her roof.
"I keep hearing that woman’s name pop up," Chara said to Ramora as the innkeeper led them upstairs. "Is she really that famous?"
The warrior gave her friend a surprised look, asking if she'd really never heard of the oldest and most powerful living Blessed in the Middle World. An Elven Princess, Mistress of Sorcery, and agent of Rajan, Lady Descartes’ was one of the most well-known names not just in their world, but several Shadow Realms as well.
"I've heard of her, sure," Chara muttered. "Just asking if she lives up to the stories."
Ramora shrugged, admitting she'd never met the woman herself. She had, however, heard many tales about her battles against the Demon Seed while living in the High World.
The innkeeper informed them that they could take dinner anytime they pleased before handing them three room keys, having picked up on Chara and Esteban's handholding with the discreet eye Halflings were known for. Puffing herself up a bit, she thanked them for their patronage and scuttled away as they went to deposit their gear, after which they headed back down to the common room for a meal.
Afterward, the four sat in front of the warm fire, chatting. Ramora had to admit, she kind of liked it, the ease and comfort that'd grown between them all soothing her heart. Her Rabbit pointed out the soothing touch of Leto was only a room away, and embarrassed, she hushed it before it could put any more thoughts in her head.
"Tomorrow, I think Ramora and I should contact the city guard and let them know we've arrived," Leto was saying. "I imagine His Majesty is eager to have us join his task force."
"Do you want us to go with you?" Esteban inquired.
Leto nodded. "For a while. I'm still getting the hang of Ramora's hand signs, so it might be wise to have Chara on hand for a bit. I would guess there will be talk after that among the other Blessed the King has assembled that you two would find boring, though."
Rise (War Witch Book 1) Page 30