by C. J. Aaron
The grandeur of the estates stopped as they reached the sea of buildings. From north to south, they covered the landscape to where they met the water. Leremont was circular in shape; the outermost reaches were beyond the protection of the three concentric walls that separated the inner city. The king’s complex was located at the highest point, atop a hill that was off-center, placing it closer to the coast. The massive structure was surrounded on three sides by sheer, vertical walls of rock, as it overlooked the city and the Sea of Prosper.
“This city looks familiar, though I know I’ve never stepped foot inside it,” Cray mumbled at his side. His eyes never strayed from their survey of the sprawling capital that dominated the horizon in the distance. “It’s like I’ve been here before. I can feel it. The knowledge runs through my veins.”
Ryl turned to his friend, acknowledging him with a smile. Though he’d also never stepped foot inside its confines, he’d experienced enough of the capital city. He’d felt the crush of the crowds as they moved about their daily business; he’d seen the ships bobbing gently on the calm waters of the port. The stench of humanity was thick in places. Though they were yet miles away, the air was fresh, he could feel the odor tugging on his memory.
“It’s the alexen inside you. They are a part of you and so too are their memories,” Ryl instructed the unawakened. “Their life experiences, their emotions, will one day be at your disposal. There’s no telling what will spark the memory. In time you’ll learn to access the vault of experiences. It will be overwhelming and confusing at first.”
“We were here once when we were kids,” Tash interjected. “We saw little save for the market, yet I feel like I know vastly more. It’s a strange sensation sifting through your own memory to understand fact from fiction.”
Ryl felt their pain all too well. On numerous occasions, the memories had overwhelmed his mind. He had been lost in the deluge of the collective experiences of thousands of cycles.
“It’s unfortunately a frustrating and cruel experience, yet in time you’ll understand to control the knowledge,” Ryl commiserated. “The information will be readily available at your command.”
His eyes wandered across the spreading city that dominated the horizon. The concentric circle that separated the areas was a barrier both physical and social. Those in the outer reaches strived to earn the coin, the affluence to move into the next circle. Those in the higher circles worked equally as hard to prevent any who were perceivably below them from moving up. Being set on a wide slowly sliding hill, there was a visible validation to the perception. The palatial complex was set high above the habitations and the shops that surrounded it. Being positioned off-center, close to the border of the sea on the south, the city had the look of a lopsided cone.
“I’ve never stepped foot inside those walls, yet I could lead you to the throne room blindfolded,” Ryl continued. “Those feelings, the call from within your veins, trust in it. Though the path to understanding is still long, you must believe.”
Cavlin spurred the horses into a steady walk. Traffic on the road ahead had grown steadier though most turned at the large intersection well ahead. Few wagons moved due west. There was little in that direction save for miles and miles of endless estates sealed behind the flimsy wall of pomp and circumstance.
“Ryl, the Lei Guard, will they know you’re coming?” Andr posed the question that he’d pondered himself. “The Horde tracked us in the Outlands. The single Lei Guard led the way to our location in the forest. They’ll know you’re here. They’ll feel the phrenic. We’re likely walking into a trap.”
Ryl acknowledged the questions with a nod of his head. There was still much mystery surrounding the powers retained by the Lei Guard. The tainted shells of the tributes were able to sense the direction, yet he’d seen no evidence that they could track them as clearly as the tributes.
“Aye, it’s likely that they will note our presence once we enter the city.” Ryl accepted the logic. “It is certain that they will have some surprises in store for us, yet with so few left at his disposal, it’s unlikely that Lord Kagran will risk committing too large a force. Every black-cloaked warrior that leaves the defense of the precious elixir opens the door for revolt.”
His gaze hardened as he glared across the distance at the seat of the kingdom.
“Given the proper motivation, greed will fuel their demise. The price in blood will be paid by the innocent who are sent to do their bidding. This alone will do little to achieve our goals. We go to put an end to the Harvest. To the Ascertaining Decree, to the process that has ruined the lives of so many thousands before us,” he growled. “If we have to tear the capital down stone by stone, there is no force that will stop them from being free.”
The darkness inside rumbled with bated excitement.
Chapter 31
Night found them before they had reached the edge of the sprawling city. As the sun dipped to the west, lights flickered from buildings and lamps that lined the streets. The illumination made the veritable mountain of the capital seem to glow with a dull orange fire.
Past the final set of estates, a wide green space separated the higher echelon of society from the prying eyes of the lower classes within the city beyond. A narrow river further delineated the border of the city proper, dividing nobility from common citizens. On the western side of the water, they crossed over a wide intersection. The road here was illuminated by torchlight. Ryl’s vision tracked to either side, tracing the line of the cobblestone street as it ran along the curved outskirts of the city.
“Like the avenues inside Leremont, this road runs along the outer edge of the capital,” Cavlin intoned as they rumbled through the intersection. Though night had fallen, the traffic on the road was still steady though none appeared to be martial in nature. The mood of the travelers here was dour at best. Further out along the Kingsway, they had been greeted by smiling faces and waves. At the border of the capital, there was little cheer. Curt warnings were issued from the mouths of a few, though many seemed content to sneer at the newcomers.
Even through the darkness of the night, the logjam on the Kingsway was evident.
“Seems like our merchant friend was correct,” Andr added. “They’ve locked down the inner rings.”
“Aye, that they have,” Cavlin answered. “Though it’s little more than an inconvenience. Our destinations are closer to the port; we’ll leave the main avenue before we’re delayed.”
The steady clops of the horses’ hooves and the rattle of the wooden wheels on the cobblestone below echoed with a hollow thump as they crossed onto the wide bridge that spanned the stream. The salty brine that had been a constant scent, hanging in the air since they’d made landfall many miles to the west, was overshadowed by a foul odor. Ryl peered into the darkness at the river below. Torchlight reflected off the water’s surface, highlighting the filth that flowed below. The runoff from the city tainted the water with a potent stench of rot and decay. Behind him, Cray gagged as the stench overwhelmed his senses.
Thankfully, the unpleasantness of the vile solution that flowed below passed as they entered the domain of the capital. An avenue ran between the first row of buildings and the water. Though wide enough for a single wagon, this was dominated by foot traffic. The facades of the buildings here were neatly constructed of stone and timber and spoke to their mercantile design. Small shops and scattered outdoor cafes still managed a stream of business even though the hour was late. Ryl’s stomach turned at the thought of eating with the vile stench of the runoff choking the air.
Further into the city, the signs of wealth, though already fleeting, receded further. While the buildings still appeared well built, less stone was involved in their construction, and the lack of maintenance shown clearly across their plain facades. The structures that surrounded them were all multistory, though only a few stretched above two tall. Even so, the press of humanity on both sides created an oppressive feeling, almost as if their habitations were leaning over t
he road, smothering them as they passed.
Less than a quarter of a mile into the capital, Cavlin turned their wagon off the Kingsway, making a sharp right-hand turn. Fewer lanterns illuminated the roadway here as the traffic off the main thoroughfare diminished rapidly. Their wagon routinely plunged into and out of the flickering halos of light as they progressed into the bowels of the city beyond.
Rest had been abandoned, as they had reached the edge of Leremont. Ryl, like the others, was focused on their surroundings. His routine scans grew in frequency with both his eyes and his mindsight. Though no signs of alexen, save for his companions’, registered in his field of vision, he could feel the disturbance in the distance to the east. Though nothing more than a hint, there was a lingering sense of darkness just outside the periphery of his senses.
He’d experienced the sensation before.
He had been fooled before.
The inky hint of shadow was still too far to clearly witness, yet was readily identifiable. The taint of the Horde, the nexela, was obvious.
The Lei Guard waited. If they didn’t know of the phrenics’ arrival yet, they would soon.
Cavlin maintained a steady pace as he steered the wagon through the darkened streets of the outer fringes of Leremont. Small groups of individuals skulked in the shadows, yet most were content to vanish back into the darkness at the sight of the armed troop in the rear of the wagon. Ryl noted the glint of light off the edge of Cavlin’s sword. Though only a hand’s width was bared, his grip remained comfortably around the handle.
There was no questioning that he would defend himself if necessary.
Ryl needed no examination to identify the pose of the mercenary seated beside the mysterious guard. To others, Andr exuded a calm that was chilling. His hand, though it rested passively on the pommel of his sword, was ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
None who viewed them from the shadows knew the true force of the crew who watched attentively from the rear of the wagon. Thankfully for them, they judged the ominous approach of the carriage cautiously, giving them a wide berth.
This would not be an easy prey straying from the safety of the well-lit main thoroughfare.
Though his attention was focused, Ryl found himself paying more attention to their surroundings than the winding route that they followed. Cavlin maneuvered the wagon with practiced precision. There was no hesitation in his direction. His path was well rehearsed, purposeful as he traveled in a circuitous route to their destination.
Ryl was sure that they passed the same landmark more than once. The misdirection, while likely unnecessary, was neither unwise nor for their confusion. He trusted the guard implicitly. This was not the first night where he’d placed his safety into the hands of a man he admittedly knew next to nothing about. Cavlin had been dependable from the start. His devotion and loyalty to Le’Dral was curious, but the trust was unquestioned.
Ryl noted no signs that they were being followed. The inky blackness that shadowed the extent of his phrenic mindsight lingered, yet its position remained an ominous constant. The further they moved from the Kingsway, the more desolate the streets became. Houses and shops that bordered the sides of the avenues showed increasing signs of weathering. Though likely far newer than the buildings along the main avenues and further inside the city, the subpar materials combined with the personal neglect led to a steady decay. The constant assault of the salty sea air, wind and routine storms from the south had slowly degraded their already weakened fronts.
There had been no signs of patrols since entering the outer fringes of Leremont. The words of the merchant rang true. While the presence at the gated entrance was likely substantial, the remainder of the army had been pulled inside the concentric walls of the capital city beyond.
Cavlin slowed the wagon as he made a sharp turn to their left. The alley they entered was narrow, barely wide enough to fit the carriage comfortably. Feeble light spilling from the buildings that bordered its sides provided the only illumination beyond the pale light of the moon overhead. Twenty meters ahead, the roadway met another intersection. There was no path forward from here; the solid outer wall of the capital loomed in the darkness.
“We’re close now,” Cavlin whispered to the group. “If there are guards about, they’ll likely be in the towers.”
The buildings bordering the alley blocked much of the views to either side. The wall that grew steadily as they approached was perhaps five meters tall. Growing up in the shadows of the mighty palisades, Ryl felt none of the expected hesitation nor the overbearing watchfulness he’d grow tragically accustomed to. The wall here, though likely well constructed, was a feeble comparison to the stones that penned in The Stocks.
With the wall in sight, Ryl regained his visual sense of direction. While the lingering blackness from the nexela had pointed consistently toward the capital complex, the buildings leaning over the narrow roadways had prevented the sight of much else.
Cavlin paused as they reached the exit to the narrow alley. To the south, the rumble of another wagon echoed through the confined roadways. The rattle of the wheels on cobblestone diminished as they listened, signaling the direction of their travel. The guard eased the horses onward, turning toward the south, following well in the wake of the departing carriage.
Ryl pivoted his head, letting his vision track the wall that now dominated the left-hand side of their path. The stones were large and weathered, glistening with a sheen of moisture from the pervasively damp sea air. Lights flickered in the night from the staggered crenulated towers that maintained a watchful eye on the city. Darkened silhouettes of the guards patrolling their perches routinely blocked the light that spilled from their midst.
They’d traveled only a short distance along the pathway bordering the wall before Cavlin abruptly turned the wagon back to the right. He hastily abandoned the wider, clear pathway for the darkness and cramped confines of yet another narrow alley. The wagon wheels skipped as they rolled over the mounting piles of debris and refuse that clogged the pathway. It was only a moment before the stench roused by their passing choked the stagnant air of the passage.
Not long past the entrance, the path opened into a rectangular clearing. Dilapidated buildings cornered all sides of the area, though Ryl noted the thin pathways, likely only large enough for a man to pass in a single file, that exited from each side of the opening. Cavlin stopped the wagon without notice, angling the horses toward the wall on the left side.
“We move on foot from here,” he added as he hopped down from the driver’s seat, quickly tying the horses to a crude hitching post along the wall. “The horses have taken us as far as they can. Let’s make haste before either guard or scavenger comes to investigate.”
“Scavengers?” Cray questioned as they spilled from the wagon. Some chose to use the easy exit from the rear; others slipped over the low rails along the sides. “Guards I know; scavengers is a name I’ve not yet heard.”
Ryl was the last to leave the wagon, sliding silently over the edge. He ushered the tributes into the middle of their group as they followed Cavlin, who moved without delay toward the narrow gap between the buildings along the wall.
“It’s not a formal distinction, yet it appropriately sums up the lives that they lead,” the guard disclosed. “There is a market for everything here in the capital. This wagon and horses will find themselves in the hands of a new master in due time. We have nothing to fear from their numbers. We are no easy prey, and the ringing of blades clashing will draw unwanted attention to their actions.”
Ryl repressed the chill that surged through his veins, though the statement surprised him not. There were far too many in the kingdom who openly dealt in the sale of children; the process was fully endorsed, sanctioned by the late king himself. Theft and resale of a team of horses and wagon seemed mundane in comparison. The darkness that corrupted the bodies and minds of the nobles, a result of their greed and endless lust for power and control, was not limited to their popu
lation. Though there was still goodness yet to be uncovered, vile dredges of humanity still existed, skulking in the shadows.
Little light remained from the moon above; heavy clouds from the sea had blown in on the wind. The air had chilled noticeably since they’d entered the capital, foretelling the storm blowing in from the Sea of Plenty to the south. Though the illumination was faint, their eyes had grown accustomed to the shadows. Cavlin paused at the entrance to the slit between the buildings.
“Follow me, and stay close,” he whispered. There was an undeniable sense of excitement to his voice, though the caution was evident. “Stay to the shadows. We need to cross the alley into the maze of the block on its opposite side. There is but one doorway we seek. Do not test the others; they are likely trapped.”
Cavlin offered no explanation as he turned, ducking into the darkened entrance. One by one, the others followed suit. Ryl remained at the rear of the group, slipping noiselessly into the waiting shadows. Between the buildings, the oppressive, suffocating feeling that had come with their entrance to the city swelled to monumental levels. The weight of the crooked dwellings leaning over them was crushing. The air was stale, thick with the putrid accumulation of filth, too narrow to be cleansed by the wind.
The foul odors grew in potency as they progressed into the gloom of the alley. Even in the low light, Ryl could see the sheen of the fetid moisture that oozed down the sides of the buildings. He folded his arms across his chest, collecting his cloak close to his body in a desperate attempt to prevent it from touching either wall of the narrow passage. His progress slowed as a muffled gag and the splattering sound of liquid on the ground sounded from one of his companions ahead. He choked down the bile that threatened to escape as they resumed their progress. Their pace through the passage increased with renewed vigor and speed, eager to exit the vile hallway.
