* * *
It took four long and arduous weeks for the caravan to pass through the Plains of the Gods. They were forced to keep a slow pace due to the inhospitable conditions of the region. To Christill, it seemed as though they had passed into the Miirvkin Desert once more and he struggled to contain the memories of the past.
The sun cracked lips and burnt their exposed skin, but the caravan moved on. Only the Queen and Dievu were able to find some refuge in the carriage during the daylight hours. The soldiers were forced to march without complaint for hours, resting only for short periods. Finally the coastal breeze found them.
The Dunleith Pass, a tall formation of rock that protected Summerstone from the hot winds from the east, came into view and was a heart warming sight after the Plains. They travelled through the mouth of the pass eagerly, seeing groups of trees for the first time in a month. Though still hot, the area approaching Summerstone was fertile enough to farm and was dotted with small settlements.
Two more days of marching and the caravan caught its first glimpse of Summerstone. The city lay in a deep valley on the coast. They approached the city eagerly and moved towards a large flat section of the valley directly in front of the city wall. Dievu named it the Summerstone Pitch. The caravan moved down the slope onto the Pitch, heading straight for the large wooden gates of the city. Christill noticed from the Pitch that the city was surrounded by steep slopes, being nestled in the bottom of the valley, right against the sea.
"This seems an odd place for a city of this size," commented Christill.
"You are right," replied Dievu. "Summerstone began as a small fishing village, yet grew with each passing year until its port was the largest in all of the Alliance. Yet by the time the people realised how much they had grown, it was too late to move to a more suitable location. Its wealth lies not on land, but out past the docks. The city itself is home to more warehouses and shipyards than actual homes."
"Where do they find all the wood to build ships for such a large port?" asked Christill.
Dievu laughed, "A clever observation, Christill. In the midst of the mountains south of here, close to the city of Ramine, is a dense forest. Hidden from view until you pass well into the ranges. Summerstone ferries their timber all the way up the coast from Ramine and in doing so keeps that coastal city as prosperous as itself."
"Is there really that much wealth in the sea that a city as big as this can rely solely on its harbour?"
"Yes. The sea provides the merchants of Summerstone with all that they need to lead an honest, and for many rich, life."
Upon reaching reached the main gate, they were escorted in through the small wall that protected the city from the hot winds of the Plains. Christill considered the wall a poor defence yet was told that it served its purpose.
In the past Summerstone had only ever seen the touch of war once, and that strike had come from the sea. At that time the ships of Dargon had been sent back with their tails between their legs by the fleet of Summerstone. It is said that so many ships had sailed against Dargon's mighty host that they had barely reached the city before they had broken and fled north.
As they moved through the streets, Christill found the main city quite unimpressive. It was ill designed and appeared as though its only purpose was to house the families of the many sailors and fishermen who worked in the port.
The single impressive structure was the Duke's mansion, which spread out over a whole block, with high, decorated windows and a stunning yellow tiled roof. The mansion was surrounded by a high wall with only one thin entrance, barely wide enough for two men side by side. The current Duke, Asferous Salenburg, was the Queen's cousin and son to the last King's sister. Following Dieter Castaneda's rise to the throne, and the end of the Salenburg dynasty, he remained the last of the Salenburg's to hold a seat of power in the Kingdom.
They continued through the city to the market which lay on the border of the port and the warehouses. Though busy, it paled in comparison to Andron's market. The Queen once again gave her speech and announced the forming of the Militia of Feldom. The response was more than disappointing. At first Christill had thought that the people of Andron were unsympathetic, but the men and women of Summerstone were wholly uncompassionate towards the call of the East. Only a small handful of citizens stayed for the Queen's entire speech, and fewer approached the enlistment booths to join the Militia.
Once the Queen had finished, Christill and Dievu opted for a walk through the harbour. They passed several loud and lively taverns along the way and finally Christill gave in. "Master will you join me for a drink?"
Dievu looked at Christill suspiciously. "I have seen your past, Christill. I know that you and your brother shared a fond love of Andronian ale. But if you think that you can control yourself, then I will gladly join you."
Christill smirked. "Excellent!" He then walked into the nearest tavern and jumped onto the closest bar stool. He had missed the sounds and tastes of a Feldonian tavern since leaving the Ranch. "Two cups of Andronian ale," shouted Christill to the barkeep.
Dievu took a seat and held his hand up to the owner of this establishment. "Make mine a cup of red," he requested. "Karmanian if you have it."
The barkeep lowered his brow as though insulted and went off to collect the drinks.
"Red beer?" asked Christill, puzzled.
"No Christill. Not beer...wine."
Christill, having only ever tried the honey wine of the Miirvkin, was interested to see what Dievu had ordered. Dievu briefly explained how the Karmanians made their wine and the barkeeper then returned with a mug of beer, brimming with thick froth, and a goblet of murky red wine.
"No Andronian," mumbled the Barkeeper. "We've got Seafarer's Beer. Will put some hair on yer chest."
Christill quickly took an appreciative gulp of his beer, and slammed it down on the table to show his satisfaction. "A fine drink."
The barkeeper smiled a toothless grin and left them.
Christill looked at Dievu who had begun to sniff his wine whilst swirling it around in the goblet. "Is there something wrong with it?" he asked
Dievu laughed. "Not at all. One day you will come to understand the merits of Karmanian wine." He then took a small sip and smiled contently. He handed the goblet to Christill.
Christill uncomfortably swirled the wine around in the goblet and took a deep whiff. His head jerked back from the intense smell and he coughed loudly. "It is overpowering," he commented. He then slowly took a sip and swallowed. The ripe taste of fermented grapes covered his tongue and spread warmth down his throat. Christill found the wine pleasant, but handed the goblet back to Dievu. "I think I will stick to ale," he added.
"It is an accustomed taste," Dievu nodded. "Now onto other matters. If you are accepted into Nyrune's Academy you will be striped of all personal items. The Academy will provide you with what you need. You will study every day, for as long as is necessary until the Council of Elders decides that you are ready to speak with Nyrune. You will not be allowed out of the Academy at any time. So you had better enjoy that mug of ale. It may be your last for a long time."
Christill's jaw dropped. "You mean there is no ale in Karmena."
"Oh, there is ale...We have developed a strong liking to it, but students are not permitted to consume mind altering substances during their study. Your mind must be focused on your work at all times."
Christill sighed loudly. "In that case, Barkeep, four more please."
CHAPTER EIGHT
A PROPHECY FULFILLED
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 42