by Jamey Sultan
“So that’s who the Orcs have leading them?” James asked, trying to understand.
Danforth glared at him, annoyed at the interruption, but nodded before continuing. “The three races fought, leaving a devastating trail of destruction across the land, but all was equal for a time. Until Zephyr betrayed the other angels and descended into darkness. Zephyr was the first of the Dark Angels, and he worked with the demons to create a new race, the Oroi, but the Oroi were neutral, neither Chaos nor Order. Some Oroi took up the mantle of Chaos, while others rejected their creators and sought peace. But the ability to choose in such a powerful race was too much. Over many millennia, the Elder Races wiped each other out through their constant war. They vanished, gone forever, but we, their descendants, live on.”
“Hang on a second, if there are no more, then how are the Orcs led by one?” James pointed out.
Danforth shrugged. “I don’t know, but my grandfather fought in the war. He saw It. He said it was a nightmare he would never forget.” The dwarf shuddered; eyes lost in memories of his grandfather’s story.
“Hey, don’t worry about it.” James said, patting the Dwarf on the back. “We’re safe here, right?”
“Yea.” The Dwarf smiled. “We have the Seven protecting us.”
“The Seven?” James asked, glad his guide was so chatty.
“The Seven Sisters!” Danforth said excitedly, forgetting all about his grim mood earlier. “They’re the reason we still have this city. Seven Saint-level fighters, each specializing in a different weapon!”
“What’s a Saint-level fighter?”
“Man, they don’t teach you Humans much. Someone who reaches level 500 in a skill is considered a Saint in that skill. Do Humans not have Saints? Is it because you don’t live very long? I heard Humans only live 50 years!”
“Sometimes we can live longer, up to a hundred if we’re lucky.”
“A hundred years! How do you get anything done?” Danforth asked in amazement. “I would be half dead.”
It took James a second to process that. “Wait, how old are you?”
“I’m 47.”
That took James by surprise. He thought Danforth was 18 or 19. They continued chatting amicably for a while until they reached a door with a picture of a bed next to a bath carved into it. Danforth escorted him in and exchanged a few words with a surly Dwarf sitting behind the counter. They seemed to be arguing before Danforth turned to James. “One gold.”
“A gold?” James said incredulously, looking around the dingy establishment. “How could this place possibly cost a gold?”
Danforth said something to the owner, who looked at James, nodded, and said something in return.
Danforth sighed. “He said you’re right. Humans get a special price. Two gold.”
James was about to argue, but saw the Dwarf reaching for something under the table and thought better of it. He already had the Grand Chancellor after him and didn’t want to give him any new reasons to lock him up again.
“Fine. Here’s your gold.” James pulled two gold out of his pouch and threw it on the counter. The Dwarf grinned and pulled a curtain back, directing the two of them to some baths. As they passed, James was pretty sure he saw Danforth place a single copper coin on the counter.
“What language was that?” James as they headed down the hallway.
“Old Dwarvish.” Danforth replied. “But don’t worry, in the city everyone speaks common.” He gestured to a shelf on the wall. “Undress and put your stuff on the shelf. Someone’ll come and wash it.”
James stripped down and followed Danforth through the building, hopefully towards his friends.
They eventually arrived at a stone room off the side of the bathhouse with a few steps that descended into a pool of water. Danforth sat on a bench that ran along the outer edge of the bath, while James, after realizing the water only came up to his bellybutton on the bench, moved to sit on the floor in the deeper area of the water.
Clouds of steam rose off of the water and exited through a hole cut into the rock ceiling. Water constantly flowed through the room, coming in a tunnel on one side and exiting out the other.
“Ohhhhhh. That’s nice.” James closed his eyes and settled into the warm water. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cleaned himself, as evidenced by the streams of filth flowing off of him in the bath. He nodded in appreciation to Danforth, who was making a point to sit upstream, well out of range of the fetid pool surrounding James. Grabbing a bar of sweet-smelling soap, James set to scrubbing himself vigorously.
“What’s up with that hole?” James asked, pointing. “Is it to get rid of the steam?”
Before Danforth could answer, a familiar voice responded. “That, my friend, is how we don’t all die from your stink!”
“Arik!” James exclaimed as Arik and Lucien entered the bath. He half-stood to hug his friend before he realized that they were both naked. He sat back down in embarrassment and laughed. “I’m glad you’re okay, what happened?”
“I got tossed in a dungeon, just like you.”
“But why are we free?”
“From what I’ve heard, once he verified our stories, the King decided that my actions were necessary and that it was cruel to keep us locked up when we hadn’t broken any laws.”
“So, we’re free to go?” James asked.
“Not exactly.” Danforth chimed in.
“What do you mean?” Lucien said angrily.
“We’re still technically prisoners. The King just recognized that there’s a little nuance to the situation and decided that since your stories match and have been verified that none of you would be a threat walking around the city while you wait for your trial. But you cannot leave the city. If you do, you will be presumed guilty and treated accordingly.”
“I hate Dwarves. First one prison, then another.” Lucien muttered darkly, glaring at Danforth. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“I’m here to help you, not babysit you,” Danforth interjected, raising his hands defensively.
Lucien said nothing, instead electing to sit in angry silence and glare at the Dwarf.
“I’m very happy to see you guys.” James said, trying to break the awkward silence.
Arik laughed. “Not as happy as I am to see you taking a bath.”
“Walking next to him through the tunnels was rough,” Danforth agreed.
Arik looked at him seriously. “You didn’t share a capsule with him.”
Chapter 35
The next morning, the group met up with Nidra, who had been escorted to a separate section of the bathhouse for women. Together they sat and talked, relaxing luxuriously around a table heaping with bacon, eggs, and other things that James couldn’t identify but was happy to eat. It felt like he hadn’t gotten a good meal in months.
The sound of Danforth coughing politely cut through the conversation, and the Dwarf looked at the group seriously. “While you’re in the city, make sure that you aren’t causing any trouble.”
“We know,” James said, waving him off. “We’re in a tight spot.”
“I don’t think you understand how tight of a spot you’re in,” the Dwarf said grimly. “Letting you go was not the king’s most popular decision.”
“What do you mean?” Nidra asked.
“You’ve seen our people’s reaction to you guys as you’ve walked through The Outskirts. They aren’t exactly fans. The King was well within his right to leave you imprisoned until trial, but he recognized that it might take years before it makes it to court, so he decided to free you out of pity, considering your short life spans.”
That was interesting and James was grateful, but he was focused on one part of the conversation in particular. “Years?”
“Our system is…”
“Let me explain this,” Arik interrupted. “I have more experience with Humans and they’ll probably understand me better.”
Danforth nodded and gestured for Arik to proceed.
“Yo
u know how Dwarves live much longer than Humans?”
James and Lucien nodded.
“Well, our government follows a strict set of rules and regulations to ensure that everything runs smoothly, but because we live so long, certain procedures, like trials, take much longer to process here then they would in your human kingdoms.”
James raised an eyebrow in confusion. “So how long will it take to get us our trial?”
Arik chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. “Normally it would take between twenty-five and fifty years, but…”
“Fifty years!” James interrupted. “I don’t have fifty years!”
“Oh, it won’t take fifty years.”
“They’re speeding it up for us?”
“Just the opposite.” The Dwarf steepled his fingers. “How long did you say Humans live?”
“Maybe a hundred years, if we’re lucky.”
“Yeah. The trial probably wouldn’t happen in your lifetime.”
“Why not?”
“Think about the position that the King has been placed in,” Danforth said. “Why would he want to postpone your trial?”
James talked to himself, trying to figure it out. He started with the obvious point. “We came in via tunnels we shouldn’t know about.” Then he moved on to a few inferences. “Clearly the King is benevolent, seeing as how he released us instead of leaving us to rot, but at the same time he can’t have us leaving and telling people about the tunnel because it’s a huge security risk. He needs to do something to stop us from leaving the city with that information. If he delayed our trial, we would probably die first, which would solve his problem nicely.”
Arik smiled. “Got it in one.”
“So why don’t we just leave?” Lucien said.
“What?” Everyone turned to look at him.
Lucien shrugged. “What’s stopping us from just leaving the city and going back home?”
Danforth paled and opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, Arik answered. “You don’t want to do that. The King would take that as an insult to his generosity in freeing you. He’d send the Ironguard after you.”
“The Ironguard?”
“They deal with secretive matters that the King doesn’t want made public. They’re strong, and they wouldn’t rest until they captured you. And once they brought you back, well, let’s just say the King wouldn’t let you wander freely anymore.”
“So I would rot away in a jail for the rest of my life if I don’t stay in the city?” James clarified.
“That sounds about right,” Danforth confirmed.
Angrily, James stood up and pushed away the table. Plates crashed to the ground and food spilled everywhere as he stormed away.
Arik caught up with him and put a hand on his shoulder. “Think about it before you do anything. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in that cell?”
“No,” he admitted, “but I have a quest given to me by the Makrien.”
Arik’s eyebrows shot up in surprised, and he paled. “The Makrien?” He whispered in fear, then he shook his head. “Now isn’t the time. We can talk later. For now, don’t tell anyone.”
Before James could ask what had gotten into his friend, the rest of the group caught up.
“You doing okay?” Nidra asked Arik, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You’re looking a bit pale.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Just ate some bad breakfast.”
She seemed to accept his explanation and, as one, the group turned to exit the bathhouse.
About an hour into their walk, James turned to Danforth. “So how far are we from the city?” He asked. The glares had gotten more hostile now that their party consisted of an additional Human and Elf. James was starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Just a few more hours,” Danforth reassured him. “You’ll know we’re close when you see the statue of Ozure. Look for a mage standing on a pile of skeletons.”
James nodded. “Do you think they’ll attack us?” He asked Danforth, gesturing around them.
“Not as long as I’m with you. Don’t wander off, though.” He pointed at Nidra. “Especially you.”
“Why her?” James asked.
“Elves and Dwarves don’t typically get along,” Arik said.
“Do you guys get along with anyone?” James asked, annoyed. Constantly worrying about his safety was wearing thin. Hopefully, it would get better in the city, otherwise he might lose his mind.
Arik thought for a moment. “The Gnomes.”
James sighed, “So why do Dwarves hate Elves more than Humans? I thought we abandoned them or something.”
“You’re partially right. In Dwarven eyes, Humans are cowards who abandoned us when we needed them, but Dwarven hatred of Elves goes back thousands of years. Our magical affinities are fundamentally opposed, which led to conflict.”
James saw Nidra’s expression darken and hastened to change the subject. “So, can you tell me about the city?”
“The city is beautiful.” Arik said wistfully, “I can’t wait to see my home again, but to answer your question, it’s divided into three rings, the Outer Ring, the Inner Ring, and the Palace. The Outer Ring is inhabited by craftsmen and other laborers. Mages, skilled craftsmen and merchants live in the Inner Ring.”
James thought about that. It sounded like the city was divided by class, with blue-collar workers in the Outer Ring and white-collar workers in the Inner ring. “So who lives in the palace? The king?”
“All the nobles live in the Palace. It’s a huge compound surrounded by walls with noble houses clustered under the shadow of the palace. The higher rank a noble has, the closer they live to the king.”
“So, what about where we are now? Is it not part of the city?”
“The Outskirts? Well, the Outskirts are interesting. People who’ve been banished from the Iron City, or people who can’t afford the city live out here. Outside the city means outside its protection though, so people try to stay close to the walls. We’re traveling through the prison square, but soon we’ll arrive at the processing center.”
“The processing center?”
“It’s how we get into the city. You’ll understand after you’ve seen it.”
With that cryptic remark, the group continued in silence for a few minutes until they reached a long line of Dwarves seemingly waiting for nothing.
“What is this?” Nidra asked.
“The queue,” Danforth replied.
Arik looked at the line and groaned. “I’d forgotten just how bad Dwarves can be.”
“So how long is this line?” James asked.
“It’ll probably take a week to get us to the center, then five or six months until we’re fully processed,” Danforth replied cheerily.
“Six months? I don’t have six months! Isn’t there a way to speed this up?” James exclaimed.
Danforth sighed in annoyance. “Man, you Humans are always in such a rush. Fine, how much money do you have with you?”
“A hundred and one gold, ten silver, and ten copper. Why?” James asked.
“Come with me.”
Danforth escorted the group through the tunnel, completely skipping the line. When they reached the front, they saw two heavy iron doors, guarded by a pair of bored-looking Dwarves. The processing line led into the first door and was crawling along as the guard took a copper from each person and then let them through. The other door didn’t have any line in front of it, and they approached the guard.
The guard looked over their group, counting each one on his fingers. Once he’d finished counting them, he held out his hand. “Five silver.”
“You want a silver per person?” James said incredulously. “How much is it to get in that line?” He pointed at the other line.
“The regular lane is one copper, the express lane is one silver.” The guard said, his tone of voice clearly indicating he didn’t want to talk. “Either pay the fee or get in the other line, I don’t care, but quit bothering me.�
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James was about to keep arguing with the guard, but Danforth pulled him aside and spoke. “Just pay him.”
James considered arguing, but sighed and handed the guard five silver.
“Thank you! Have a pleasant time in the city.” The guard said as they passed.
The group filtered through the door and into a much shorter line of people who’d also made it past the first gate. A sign in the corner read “Welcome to the Processing Center. We hope you have a pleasant day.” The sign was stained, with chipped and peeling paint. All in all, it was a good symbol of how James felt right then. This was starting to feel like airport security.
Almost as if to prove his point, the guard at the next station stopped them and asked for identification. Arik and Danforth each handed over a stone card, about the size of a driver’s license. He looked the licenses over and made a quick notation in his booklet. “These three are with me,” Danforth said. “They’ve been granted entrance by the king.”
The bored guard stared at Danforth drolly. “No identification, no entry.”
“Now look here.” Danforth pulled a piece of paper from a pocket within his robe. “A letter from the palace instructing you to let them in.”
The guard took the letter, skimmed it with a purposeful slowness and handed it back to Danforth. “No identification, no entry.” He repeated without a change in expression.
James sighed. He knew where this was going. “How much?”
The guard looked them up and down as if he were trying to size up how much he could ask for. “Two Humans and an Elf? You would have to pay the special processing fee. Ten gold.”
“Ten gold? That’s outrageous! That’s—” James stopped his rant when Danforth elbowed him in the ribs. He put his head in his hands and took a deep breath before reaching into his pouch and pulling out the bribe.
“Thank you,” the guard said, pleased. He handed each of them a paper card and instructed them to show it to the next guard.
“You know, we have a place like this in my home,” James said to Arik. “It’s called airport security, but they don’t take bribes. They exist to make it look like things are safer, but it’s been proven they don’t actually do anything. They mainly exist to take away people’s soap and sometimes their yogurt.”