Mandigal walked at a controlled pace through the winding streets, making his way to the inner section of the city. The chilling rain fell lightly as the morning sun rose over the waking city of Vladistov. He had avoided the guards at the first and second walls easily enough, but knew that he would not remain unnoticed if he was to gain entry to the Duke's residence, Villa Estire. Stores had already begun opening their doors to welcome the day's first clientele.
Mandigal did not stop to survey the wares for sale. The vendors displaying their goods barely noticed him pass, wrapped tightly in a sodden black cloak, and he thanked the gods that his many years in Feldom had not tanned his pale skin too strongly. As long as he kept to the shadows he wouldn't attract unwanted attention.
By the time the women and servants had begun to crowd the market square, ready to barter for the fresh produce being hauled in from the outlying farms, Mandigal had reached the mighty third wall which protected the wealthy residences of Vladistov. The immense, square barrier provided ample protection for the defenders to stop all but a vast army from reaching the inner city. Mandigal weaved his way past the horse drawn wagons travelling down the street and approached the main gate. A solid looking guard raised his halberd in front of Mandigal as another soldier, dressed in fine black leather, approached from a guard room built into the side of the wall.
"What do you want?" he said, showing his displeasure in being bothered at this hour of the day.
Mandigal moved in closely and replied in a soft voice. "Allow me to pass. I have business with the Duke."
The soldier turned to the burley guard and shared a conceited laugh. "Well I haven't got any orders about any business. So move on. Understand?" he replied smugly.
Mandigal's tone grew firm. "Bar my way any longer and you will never again see the sun set. Understood?"
The guards face screwed up tightly. "You don't scare me, stranger. I am no fool and I have my orders. No one enters this part of the city without the Duke's approval."
Mandigal raised his arm and pulled back his sleeve showing the soldier his wrist. "Is this enough approval for you?" he replied harshly.
The guard moved in close to inspect Mandigal's wrist then drew back in shock as he saw an image etched on his wrist. It was the symbol of Gushkall with an empty circle in the centre of it. It was not known to many, but this was the mark of the Hermagoras bloodline. "I had no idea, my lord," he stuttered. The guard moved out of the way allowing Mandigal to pass and he stormed through the metal gate. Mandigal cast one last viscous gaze at the soldier, causing him to lower his head in shame.
The cobblestone walkway that made its way up the hill to the Duke's estate travelled beside the many opulent mansions owned by the businessmen of Dargon. As Mandigal walked along the path he became conscious of the fact that, had he stayed in Dargon, he would likely be living in one of these estates. As the cold wind grew lighter and the rain dulled to a measly drizzle, the Duke's manor came into view.
It crested the top of the large hill, making it the highest building in the city by far. The main building spanned across the inner city for what seemed like half a mile. Mandigal stood still for a moment to take in the spectacular sight. The morning sun gleamed off the stained glass windows that were mounted on the backdrop of white marble that was Villa Estire. More a city of its own than a Villa, thought Mandigal absently.
He then made his way up to the estate and trekked through the garden to the front door, fully aware of the hidden guards watching his every step. He raised his hand and used the brass knocker to alert the mansion's servants of his arrival. The large mahogany doors swung open revealing the entrance hall and an elderly attendant motioned for Mandigal to enter.
"May I take your cloak?" asked the Attendant.
Mandigal removed his dark cloak and handed it to the man. Having hidden his gear in the forest, he was wearing the simple purple tunic and brown leggings that he had worn under his armour. At his side hung the metal hilt he used when creating his magical sword and as the servant motioned to take it, Mandigal stopped him. "That will not be necessary."
The servant simply nodded and motioned to a large carpeted stairway that led to the second level. "You will find my master on the balcony, six doors to the left."
Mandigal thanked the man then began to climb the stairs. Around him hung artworks of vibrant landscapes and exotic wildlife and above dangled a giant chandelier reflecting the light from the well placed windows into the nooks and crannies of the room. Turning left at the second floor he made his way to the sixth door and slowly opened it. He stepped out into a long balcony that stretched out over a garden of fruit trees. He caught a fleeting glimpse of the view from the balcony and was awestruck. Before him, from the highest point in the city, stretched out Vladistov in all its majesty. It had been years since Mandigal had looked upon the Walled City and, much like when he was a young boy, it spoke to him of the beauty that mankind was capable of. Vladistov was a rare sight in the dreary nation of Dargon.
Leaning against the hand carved railing, Aldan Hermagoras turned his head at the sound of the door and raised his brow as he saw Mandigal standing before him with folded arms.
"It has been a long time, Brother," began Mandigal.
Dawn of the Valiant (The Valerious Chronicles: Book One) Page 86