Palius listened to the ranger’s story twice, concentrating on keeping down the anxiety which threatened his calm. He did not ask the ranger to repeat the story several times as he had before; at this point he trusted the man, or rather in the man’s desire for coin. He had already paid the man well in advance, but Palius excused him with another small pouch of gold coins. As the ranger left, Palius told him to stay available should the queen have further need of him; she appreciated his efficiency.
Palius slumped in his chair, staring off into space, and for a brief moment, he looked upwards wishing Garod would simply strike him down and make this someone else’s problem. He quickly recanted this line of thinking, mentally asking Garod for forgiveness. He closed his eyes in thought; he needed a course of action to suggest before giving this news to Queen Erella.
How was it possible this boy thwarted every attempt they made at controlling, capturing or containing him? Aquis was the greatest kingdom in the Shining West, and yet they had found and lost him thrice! The fact another Dahken, an older Dahken, was involved had been extremely disquieting, but he had had no doubt that a dozen well trained soldiers led by a venerable priest would have no difficulty subduing them one way or another. Palius, though not the most pious man, was not one to blasphemy, but he couldn’t help the feeling that some other power worked against them. Palius stood from his desk and left his office. It was time to talk to the queen, and he had no idea what he was going to recommend now.
* * *
It took Cor over a month to reach the city of Worh, and it was becoming plain to him that Rael’s stallion, his stallion, was an older animal. Though prideful, the animal’s best days were likely behind him, and the extreme heat of late summer caused Cor to slow the pace a bit. They rested more during the day, usually stopping for several hours shortly after midday and continuing until sunset. The slow pace ate into Cor’s provisions, and he had to spend more effort than he would have preferred finding food growing wild in the countryside. On more than one occasion, he cursed the fact that he didn’t know how to hunt. He avoided towns and villages as much as possible, and when he had no choice but to stop and purchase provisions, he preferred to buy from the farmers living away from the town. Most were friendly, offering the same hospitality his father would have. Cor lingered nowhere, however, not even to occasionally sleep on a soft bed as opposed to the hard ground.
As he approached Roka and its capital, Cor became acutely aware of stirrings in his blood. He felt two distinct forces pulling him, both to the east. One was close by, and though it was weaker, the proximity made it more urgent. The other pulled at him from far to the east, past the World’s Spine in the Loszian Empire. Cor knew he had been feeling this call for quite some time, and he didn’t know how much longer he could resist answering it.
Cor couldn’t help the feeling that he was being watched or followed for most of his journey across Aquis and into Roka. After the first couple of weeks, he took to roads more often; the going was faster and it was easier to purchase provisions when necessary, as the roads always led to a town or village. While he saw other travelers on the roads, Cor never spotted anyone specifically pursuing him. This didn’t ease his suspicions however, and at times he was certain the horse felt it too.
The city of Worh, being the only true city in the kingdom of Roka and a prosperous port at that, was absolutely massive. Cor got an excellent view of the entire city from a hilltop about a mile off. The city was set on a gorgeous blue bay, and large trading ships came and left from its harbor. It looked as if it had been built and rebuilt upon itself as it grew outwards, giving it a tiered look; as one moved closer to the city’s center, the buildings were simply taller.
A stone wall surrounded the city, and Cor could see other walls surrounding other parts of the city further in. As he approached he could see the outer wall, over thirty feet tall, was comprised of huge granite blocks. Unlike Sanctum’s wall, this wall was topped with battlements, and Cor could see a number of soldiers standing atop the wall keeping a lookout. The huge wall had multiple gates set into it, each with two huge iron banded double doors. Traffic of all types moves freely through these gates, each manned by armored guards.
The press of people, mostly merchants, coming and going was amazing to Cor; the last true city he’d seen was Martherus in Aquis, and then he’d been only a boy. It seems one’s memory tends to fade over such a time, and all Cor could remember of Martherus were flashes and images. He controlled himself, keeping his eyes off the impressive sights as he entered the city; at the least, he was still carrying a large sum of gold, and he did not want to invite thievery by looking like a country bumpkin.
The bazaars and merchant stalls seemed to be centered around the outside ring of the city, closest to the gates, though it seemed many of the more prosperous merchants had warehouses and other facilities near the docks. As Cor worked further into the city, the general bazaars gave way to more specialized shops and tradesmen; smiths of all types, glassmakers, weavers and other professionals kept their shops here, close enough to the merchants and bazaars, but far enough away to avoid most of the noise.
The crowds were thinner here, and Cor noted several taverns and inns. He selected one with a large stable and paid the stable boy to feed the horse so long as he remained there. Cor entered the inn with his possessions, including his saddle, and found it to be quite comfortable. There was one main room littered with tables and chairs, and shortly after noon, it was mostly empty. A portly man with a grease stained apron waddled up to Cor from a back room that smelled of cooking meat.
“Young sir, you have recently arrived? I do have some private rooms available, though sleeping in the main room is friendlier to your purse,” solicited the innkeeper.
“I would prefer to be alone. What is the cost?” Cor asked.
“Well,” the innkeeper scratched at his belly, “one solid gold piece per night, five for a week. You pay for meals separately. Also, one silver per night to cover your horse, or a gold for a fortnight,” said the innkeeper, motioning at Cor’s saddle. The price seemed exorbitant, and Cor knew he was expected to negotiate, a skill his father was adept at despite his preference against it.
“I despise haggling,” he confided in the innkeeper. “I’ll pay it, but I want a hot breakfast every morning.” Cor was tired of beans and berries; he reached into his pouch and fished out six gold coins.
“Thank you sir,” said the innkeeper as he took Cor’s gold, a look of satisfaction on his face. “If you’ll follow me.”
The innkeeper took Cor up a small set of stairs and down a hallway. The inn was much larger than it looked from the outside, and this hallway alone had four rooms on each side before making a right turn. The man stopped before reaching the turn and pulled out a small copper key, which he used to unlock a door. He then handed the key to Cor explaining that there would be a one gold piece charge should Cor lose it, and that there were no other copies of that key. The only other person who could open his door was the innkeeper himself with his master key.
Whistling, the innkeeper strode back down the hallway and downstairs while Cor entered the room, dropping his belongings in one corner. The room was small, but it was spotless and appointed with two basins, one filled with clean water and the other empty, a large bed and a chest that sat with the lid open. Cor closed the chest’s lid and saw that it was designed to take a padlock. The room was windowless, and the one door was the only entrance or exit.
Cor lay down on the bed, finding it soft and smelling of down and organized his thoughts. He needed to do a few things before starting his search for a guide to take him into the mountains; for one, he’d felt naked for the last month without armor of any kind, especially any time he saw a bow. He wasn’t afraid to fight without armor, but he knew a well trained archer could prevent him from even getting close. Cor also considered paying the room in advance for quite some time, which would allow him to use the inn as a sort of base of operations; this also meant purc
hasing a fine lock for the chest at the foot of the bed. Thinking over his options and next actions, Cor drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Cor hadn’t really meant to sleep, and he awoke to sounds of activity below. He stood, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and made certain Soulmourn was belted securely, allowing his hand to linger on the gleaming hilt. He put most of his belongings in the chest, including Rena’s journal and his two sacks of gold, which were a bit lighter than when he left Sanctum. Cor added no small sum of gold to the pouch at his waist, and then closed the chest’s lid; it had no lock, but he would rectify that soon.
Making sure his cloak was quite secure and the hood keeping his face in as much shadow as possible, Cor left his room, closing and locking the door behind him. He walked to the end of the hall and stood at the top of the stair, looking down upon a gay scene in the main room. The room was completely full of merchants, soldiers and travelers, eating, drinking and sharing stories of various types, while serving girls carried platters of food about the room. A number of women wearing clothing that left little to the imagination mingled solicitously amongst the patrons, clearly attracted to those purchasing the more expensive food and drink. Other figures sat furtively in various corners, interacting with no one, but watching everyone; Cor knew his appearance did not go unnoticed.
Cor’s stomach grumbled with the smell of meat and spices that filled the room, and he descended the stair, looking for an empty seat, preferably at a less populated table. This proved no easy task however, and Cor quickly decided to enter the street instead. He had slept for several hours, as the sun was just beginning to set, casting a pink glow over the city streets. The bustle was clearly gone as all manners of business were being concluded for the day, and Cor knew he had little time if he wanted to accomplish either of his errands tonight.
Skilled tradesmen populated this section of the outer city, and Cor entered the first smithy he found. The blacksmith’s assistant inside explained that in a city this large, the smiths specialized in specific goods and pointed him in the right direction. Cor entered a locksmith’s shop clearly just as the man was preparing to close. He took little of the man’s time, purchasing the most expensive lock that would fit the chest in his room, and as usual, Cor did not bother to negotiate the price. By the time he left and found the recommended armor smith, the shop had closed, and though he was still inside, the smith refused to reopen. Cor returned to the inn, the sun dipping below the horizon, and returned to his room. Finding everything in order, he fitted the padlock to the chest and dropped the iron key into his pocket with his room key.
By now, Cor hungered mightily, and he knew he would simply have to brave the main room. It had cleared out a bit; most of the patrons, having finished eating had moved on to the taverns or other amusements, and Cor had little trouble finding a table where he could sit alone. A girl about his age brought him a rich platter of steaming beef and potatoes that had been fried in some sort of oil with a pint of ale. He made certain not to lift his face to hers, but Cor knew she saw the gray color of his hands, and he watched her with interest as she receded into the kitchen.
Cor came to the conclusion that ale was perhaps the vilest liquid he’d ever had the misfortune of drinking, but the meal itself was phenomenal compared to his own meager cooking. He gorged himself, sighing greatly when finished and leaning back to simply enjoy not traveling. The girl returned and he paid for his meal with thanks, allowing his eye to linger on her figure.
As the girl turned to serve other patrons, a feminine form slipped into the chair next to him, sliding it closer. She was at least six inches shorter than he, although sitting the disparity was less noticeable. She had long dark hair and green eyes, a color that was very uncommon among Western women and added to her interesting assets. Her body was supple, yet firm, and her satin clothing provided some modesty, while at the same time making her offer plain.
“A man shouldn’t be alone,” she said, “especially when fine company is available.”
“I don’t want any company,” Cor said, staring straight ahead.
“Oh, I doubt that’s true,” she said, laying her hand on his arm. “You see, I was watching you. I saw the way you looked at the girl, but I promise you she has little to offer compared to me.”
“You’re a harlot,” Cor said simply, at which she laughed heartily; he did not expect such a reaction.
“Yes I am. And I’m sure a fighting man such as yourself has plenty of experience with women such as me,” this she said, allowing her hand to trail down from his arm and laid one finger on the pommel of his sword.
“Or perhaps not; I’d say you’re barely a man. Tell me, how many men have you killed?” she asked, her hand moving lower, and Cor was acutely aware of her closeness.
“None today. I’d prefer it if you leave me alone,” Cor said, hoping to sound ominous. She leaned forward so that her mouth was near his ear, despite the hood.
“I don’t think you would. Take me upstairs, and for what you paid for your room, I will be yours for the night. I’m worth more than any ten serving wenches in this inn.”
Cor, with no experience in these matters, was unprepared for the strength of the feelings this woman evoked within him. He allowed her to lead him upstairs to his room, and she locked the door behind them. She was concerned neither for his lack of experience, nor the pallor of his skin. She loved him and taught him how to love. Throughout this night, Cor understood Rael’s hatred of women, and that it was derived from a fear of them. Cor now understood how easily a woman could enslave a man’s soul.
21.
The harlot left him early, no doubt shortly after sunrise, though without a window, Cor couldn’t be sure. She left with no promises and no expectations and it had been quite an education for him. He slept awhile longer, dozing in and out of sleep for some time, but he eventually roused himself and washed a bit in the basin, which he then sat outside the room for one of the inn’s employees to refill. He double checked the chest and his purse to be sure the woman hadn’t robbed him and then went downstairs into the main room. As promised, the innkeeper had the kitchen make him a warm breakfast of eggs and pork.
After eating, Cor sauntered outside into the warm morning air; it was late summer, and Roka seemed, as a general rule, to get much hotter than what Cor was used to in Aquis. The large buildings and concentration of people did not help the heat, and activity already bustled in Worh’s streets, persons of all professions going about another day’s business.
Cor headed directly for the armor smith, who was more than happy to speak with him today. In fact, the smith apologized for not being more accommodating; he had another engagement for which he simply could not have been late. Somehow, Cor thought the weight of his purse was responsible for the apology, but he accepted it nonetheless. Cor explained that he did not plan on wearing the armor long, and he did not have time to await the making of custom fit pieces. As such, he purchased what the smith had available, namely a scale hauberk and armguards and a set of mismatched plate legguards. He considered purchasing a basinet, but decided that the large helm would likely draw attention, which was the opposite of his intent.
Before leaving the smithy, he asked what the smith knew about hiring a guide to go into the mountains. The smith explained that it wasn’t his business, but he knew it was somewhat common, though the Spine is extremely dangerous for many reasons. Regardless, Cor should seek a man named Kamar in one of the taverns near the docks; while he no longer ventured into the mountains himself, doubtless he could find Cor a willing mountaineer. Cor thanked the smith and left.
Cor asked no one for directions to the docks; he knew the bay was on the southern side of the city, so it was only a matter of time before he found the docks. He took careful note of the path he took, so as to make certain he could find his way back, and slowly made his way through the city. As he continued deeper into the city, the buildings were significantly older and taller, having apparently been rebuilt
on top of themselves. He passed through another gated wall, much older than the outer wall he had entered yesterday. The older buildings and walls were made mostly out of limestone, as opposed to the granite blocks used in the newer parts of the city. The business districts gave way to affluent homes, which eventually turned to less than affluent homes. After passing through a second gated wall, he found himself surrounded by warehouses and other holding facilities used by merchants, and as he expected, it was only a short walk from here to the docks.
The docks of Worh looked much like the docks he had seen in other Western cities, though on a substantially grander scale. A forty foot wide boardwalk, made of poplar and elm, curved its way in a slight crescent for as far as he could see, and twenty foot wide wooden piers jutted into the harbor, each at least one hundred feet in length. Vessels of all kinds from the Shining West and the continent of Tigol were moored at these piers, many of their crews involved in the loading or unloading of cargo. The sounds of seagulls, raucous laughter, barked orders and the occasional whip filled the air, and Sailors roamed about everywhere, some involved in ship’s business of some sort or another, many involved in their own business and merry making.
Cor counted multiple taverns off of the boardwalk; there had to have been at least half a dozen in plain view, not to mention any others hidden in the streets or back alleys. One of these he chose at random and entered, finding himself in a dark room with a large bar and a number of small round tables. The entire establishment had an extremely seedy air about it, and Cor had the distinct impression that he did not want to stay too long lest he invite trouble. The barkeep, whom would only talk to Cor after he bought a drink, new Kamar, but said he was not here. He suggested that Cor continue checking the taverns, and he would find Kamar eventually.
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