The din of thousands of simultaneous conversations seemed to bounce of the walls of the buildings. Not only did everyone in Almeria seem to speak louder than did the people of Drak-Anor, there were so many more of them. She was disappointed that she didn't see any draks, though.
"Come on, Pancras. Can't you go faster?" Kale bumped into Delilah, grabbing her arm to keep from falling.
"He can't strong-arm his way through the crowd, Drak." Edric stopped beside the twins. "This place is more crowded than Ironkrag. Stinks, too."
Kale looked around, lifting up Pancras's sleeve to see past him. "How do they clean the place? Do the golguthrons come out a night?"
Pancras shook his head and looked back at his three shorter companions. "No golguthrons here. That's probably why it stinks so much."
A cart pulled out of the building in front of them, and once it was in the street and moving, Pancras stepped past it. Delilah noticed the packed-dirt road was now covered with small cut stones. She couldn't see what held them in place, but they were worn down and smooth. Adjacent to the buildings, the road was built up, providing a raised walkway for pedestrians, and at regular intervals large blocks were spaced across the street and at the same height as the raised walkways. It wasn't until she observed pedestrians crossing the road atop the blocks that she understood their purpose. Over many years wagon and cart wheels wore ruts into the cobbles between the blocks.
Over the din of the crowds, Delilah heard the sound of splashing water. Just past Pancras, she saw a marble carving of a nude human woman standing a head above Pancras. She held an ornate ewer from which spilled water into a pool at the her feet.
"Is that a fountain? This is the bath house, right?" Delilah tugged at Pancras's sleeve. The building behind the fountain was part of a sprawling complex constructed of gleaming-white-and-pink marble. Chimneys atop the red, tile roof belched out clouds of white smoke.
"I think so. We need to find the street that runs behind it… There it is!" Pancras pointed ahead. Words on a sign attached to the building were painted in script letters, although Delilah was not familiar with the alphabet. The lexicon she used to learn the common trade language was written in Drak to teach her how to pronounce words, not to read them. So that's what it looks like written. It's more delicate than I imagined.
Almerian Spring Way ran alongside the bath house before turning behind it and winding its way through various half-timbered houses. The group passed a few gardens with sprawling trees that peeked over the tops of the walls that surrounded them, as well as several specialty shops. Delilah guessed each shop's specialty from the pictures painted alongside the words on each of their signs. The candlemaker's sign showed a lit candle, the baker’s sign showed a loaf of bread, and the butcher's shop showed a haunch of meat. Delilah was certain at least one of the shops was an apothecary or alchemist. At least that's what she thought mortar and pestle signified. A trio of draks stood in front of another shop, arguing about the quality of copper in the pots from the snippets of conversation she overheard. She tried to establish eye contact, but they took no notice of the passing strangers.
The street down which they strode passed through a residential section. Ahead, Delilah recognized the wall the drak merchant outside the city described. The smoke of industry rose above the wall from more chimneys than Delilah could count and formed a nebulous black haze that clung near the highest rooftops. Edric will probably feel right at home here. The ringing clang of hammers on anvils formed a background cadence to their march along the road. Around one final bend, Delilah saw that the Foundry Gate was little more than a passage through the wall with portcullises on either side. She didn't notice any murder holes above her, but there was also no gatehouse from which guards might defend this particular entrance.
A minotaur leaned against the wall next to the passage, cradling a halberd in his arms. The tunic of the city guard hung over his mail. He straightened his posture as they approached and moved his halberd to a more defensive position. "Hold there, what's your business here?"
Pancras straightened his robes and cleared his throat. He tilted his head in a bow toward the guard. "We were told The Sleeping Viper was through this gate in the Foundry district. We were told they would be happy to accommodate us."
The guard looked them over. "New in town, eh?" He snorted. "You could do better than The Sleeping Viper. Who told you to go there?"
"A drak fellow." Edric stepped up to stand next to Pancras.
"Yes, it was a drak merchant." Pancras looked down at Edric and then back up at the guard. "I believe he was a mercer, just outside the main city gate."
"Well, like I said, you could do better than The Sleeping Viper. You'd have to split up, though. The Grand Duchess is owned by a minotaur, so you'd be welcome there. The draks, however"—he shook his head—"she doesn't like them at all. Across the street The Manticore & Dragon Inn has short beds for the small folk."
Delilah shared a look of concern with her brother and then tugged at Pancras's sleeve. She didn't like the idea of splitting up, not on their first night in a new city. Pancras looked down at her and shook his head.
"I think we'd prefer to stay together for now."
The guard shrugged and leaned back against the wall. "Suit yourself." He confirmed the drak's directions and bid them good day as they passed under the Foundry Gate.
* * *
Kale wrinkled his nose. The air in the Foundry District became fouler and fouler the farther into it they traveled. It reminded him of the forges back home. Something else was mixed in with the odor of soot and brimstone, yet it was something he couldn't identify. A man leaned out the window of the upper story of the building ahead of them, and Kale saw the source of the other odor.
"Clear below!" The man dumped a chamber pot out of the window onto the street below. The fetid sewage splashed into the street and collected between the cobbles, running along the sides of the raised walkways.
Grabbing her brother's hand, Delilah jumped up onto the raised promenade, avoiding a small stream of nasty-smelling, brown water.
"This must be the garden spot." Edric pinched his nose closed as they passed under the building from which the man had dumped his chamber pot.
"These people really need to get some golguthrons in here. It would be so much cleaner." Delilah looked around in disgust. "I wonder if we could convince some to come here to work. I bet we could make a fortune!"
"I don't think they would be welcome here." Pancras shook his head, stepping up onto the raised pathway. "Even if they were willing, they don't fare well under the sun."
Ahead of them, Kale saw a jagged tree stump. It looked, quite literally, like a giant had broken the tree in half, leaving behind the part rooted in the ground. A circular pattern of cobblestones surrounded the tree, and several minotaurs and humans congregated in groups, conversing amongst themselves. Pancras approached the group of minotaurs and gestured for Edric, Kale, and Delilah to wait where they were. When he returned, he pointed to one of the side streets.
"The Sleeping Viper is that way." He led them down the road, past the smithy. Kale heard the ringing of a hammer beating metal into shape. A red brick chimney built into the side of the wooden building spewed black smoke. The hammering stopped, and the hiss of hot metal plunging into water was audible even in the street.
Edric stared at the smithy as they passed. His shoulders seemed to slump. When he noticed Kale looking at him, he straightened up and looked away.
"Missing home?"
"A little, but not because of the smithy." Edric grabbed his waterskin and took a long drink before wiping his mouth and continuing. "I was just wondering if my life would've been different if my family had been smiths instead of traders. My sister and father kept busy traveling all the time while Mother watched the shop. Perhaps keeping busy in a forge might've kept me out of trouble." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter now."
"I don't know." Kale looked back at the smithy. "You could probably learn to become a
smith. You're still pretty young, I think, right? There's time."
"Aye, time's aplenty. The spirit is not willing, though."
"We're here." Delilah tapped Kale's shoulder to get his attention and then gestured toward the sign ahead. Hung from a pole above an iron-banded oak door, the rough-hewn sign jutted beyond the building. Kale couldn't read the words on the sign, but the stylized image of a snake was clear.
Pancras pushed open the door. A bell jingled as the swinging door pulled a chain attached to the jamb. Entering the inn, Kale surveyed the dim vestibule. Well-worn bare, wooden floors were stained with water and ground-in dirt. A rack with blunted iron hooks was attached to the far wall. The clomping of hooves on wood heralded the arrival of the Inn's proprietor, a hulking minotaur, wearing a greasy leather jerkin and kilt Kale thought might once have been green and blue. Part of one of the minotaur's horns was missing, and on the same side a gnarled scar drew a pale line down his face and across a milky-white eye.
He grunted as he saw the four travelers standing in his vestibule. "What do you want?"
Pancras cleared his throat. "Lodging."
The scarred minotaur narrowed his eyes. "Yeah? Who sent you?"
"We didn't get his name. A drak textile merchant set up outside the main city gates said you could accommodate us."
"Two draks, a dwarf, and a minotaur?" The innkeeper looked at each of them in turn. He grunted again. "I have beds for you. A half-talon per day. Each. That's for the common room. You're responsible for your own washing, your own meals. I got beds. That's all."
Pancras reached into his pouch and pulled out two silver talons. He handed them to the proprietor.
"Common room?" Delilah huffed and pushed her way past Pancras to stand toe-to-toe with the scarred minotaur. "My brother and I want our own room. I'm not sleeping with them!"
"A talon a day for private rooms." He turned and ambled down the hall, pausing to look back at them. "Each."
Pancras handed him two more talons.
Kale leaned over to his sister. "This guy's not very happy, is he?"
"None of your business, Drak. I may not be able to see out of one eye, but I can still hear just fine."
Edric chuckled as the minotaur led them toward the back of the inn. A set of rickety stairs led up. He pointed to a door under the stairwell. "Privy. Your rooms are up. Take whichever ones you want. No one else is here right now. Keys are in the locks. Beds should be clean and have fresh linens. If you need anything, you can call me. I'm Scar."
That's original. Kale ascended the steps to the second floor of the inn. They creaked and groaned with each footfall but felt solid enough. As noisy as the treads were, Kale did not want to take the rooms closest to the stairway, so he kept ahead of Pancras and Edric and advanced to the far end of the hall. True to Scar's word, a key stuck out of the door's lock. He turned the key and opened the door.
The room was Spartan. A musty smell pervaded the air, and motes of dust danced in the light afforded by the window opposite the door. Pushed up against one wall sat a lone bed, and at the foot of the bed was a three-drawer chest, which stood as tall as Kale. A basin and pitcher sat on top of the chest. A full log rack sat on the floor next to the fireplace built into the wall opposite the bed. Delilah pushed past Kale and hopped up on the bed.
She leaned over to look out the window. "Not much of a view."
Kale stepped over to the window. It looked out over an alley, across which a crumbling wall surrounded an overgrown garden. Holes in the tiled roof of the building to which the garden belonged allowed Kale to see into the interior. Vines covered the structure and snaked through the broken windows.
He heard Pancras clomping around in the room next to theirs. I suppose it could be Scar. I won't be able to tell them apart just by listening to them walking around in the inn. He opened the window and looked down. He could scale the wall if he needed to sneak out, but it wouldn't be easy.
"Do you think we're going to have to stay here all winter?"
Delilah removed her pack and pulled the books out of it, placing them on the bed. "I figure Pancras will want to stay here until we learn our way around the city. We don't want to get trapped out on the plains when it snows, though I really don't see how staying here will be any better."
"Well, here, at least we'll have a roof over our heads. If it's cold, we can just huddle around the fireplace. Out there, we'll have to scrounge for wood, and it'll be wet—"
"Yeah, yeah. I know all that." Delilah dismissed his explanations with a wave. "I just don't want to stay here all winter. It's kind of a dump."
Kale sat next to his sister on the bed and lowered his voice. "I wouldn't say such things so loud. Scar will hear you!"
"I'm not afraid of him."
"I know. Nothing much scares you, does it?" Kale rested his head on his sister's shoulder. He closed his eyes. His back ached, and he still felt warmer than he thought he should, but as long as Delilah was with him, Kale supposed they would figure things out together.
"Not much, no." Delilah put her arm around Kale and hugged him. "But I miss stupid old Sarvesh and blubbery Bargle."
"Me, too."
"I don't think we'll ever see them again, Kale."
Kale leaned into his sister. "Nah, once this business in Muncifer is over, we'll go home. I bet we'll even get some mighty steeds to speed us home." He laughed. "I really don't want to walk all the way back."
"I'm with you there, Brother."
* * *
When Pancras finished sorting through his pack, he left it on the chest of drawers and left the room, locking the door behind him. He thought about checking on Edric and the twins but decided to go downstairs to talk to Scar first. He found the innkeeper in the kitchen, sitting alone at a small table. Scar held a thin, black-bladed knife in his hands and carved at a block of wood. Pancras thought it resembled a horse but couldn't be sure from the doorway.
Scar looked up from his carving. "What?"
"I wanted to let you know the accommodations are acceptable and to give you payment for the next few days in advance, if that's all right. Also, the draks are sharing a room, if you want to factor that into your calculations." Pancras entered the kitchen and placed a gold talon on the table.
The other minotaur grunted. "It's up to you what you do with your money."
Pancras watched as Scar resumed carving. He stopped after a minute and looked back up at Pancras. "Do you need something else?"
"No, not really. I was just wondering about you. Where—"
"Not your business. I don't know you, and I don't want you to know me. You paid for rooms. I provided them. That's all we need from each other. Agreed?"
"Yes, of course." Pancras bowed and backed out of the kitchen. "Good day."
No wonder the guard said we could do better. Pancras ascended the stairs and proceeded down the hall to Kale and Delilah's room. He knocked on the door and waited. Patter-clicking clawed feet ran to the door.
It opened with a jerk. Kale looked up at Pancras. "Hi! What's your room like?" He opened the door all the way and invited him in.
Looking around, Pancras smiled at the drak. "Just like this one. I think they're all the same. I was thinking we should go to the tavern next door, have a few ales, get some food, and work out a plan for the next few weeks."
"Good idea." Delilah hopped off the bed. "It'll be nice to eat something we didn't have to catch and cook."
Pancras reminded the draks to lock up before they left and went to Edric's room to gather the dwarf. Together they all went to The Assassin's Dagger. The tavern seemed quiet from the street. Pancras regarded the image of a dagger burned into the oaken door before opening it. The common room of the tavern was narrow, stretching back to the far end of the building. A bar top ran almost the length of the interior. Round tables filled the room, save for in front of the hearth, which was left clear to give the tavern keeper room to stoke the fire. Skulls with clumpy hair of melted wax served as the centerpieces of e
ach table. Candles atop the skulls provided dim, flickering light, barely adequate to stave off the darkness.
Behind the bar, a portly, monolithic human rubbed the bar top with a dirty cloth. He smiled a gap-toothed grin at the travelers as they entered. "Ah, good, the first customers of the evening! I am Janek. Welcome! Welcome!" He gestured to the empty room. "You may sit anywhere you desire."
Janek came out from behind the bar and waddled toward them as they chose one of the tables near the hearth. "Ale? Wine? Dwarven spirits?"
Edric's face lit up. "You have dwarven spirits?"
"Indeed I do, Master Dwarf. Fine bottles from Dwegerthon. Only the best."
"Ale for us." Delilah pointed at herself and Kale.
"For me, as well." Pancras fished a talon out of his pouch and pressed it into Janek's hand.
"I want some of those spirits, but I'll need an ale, as well." Edric looked around the table. "To wash it down!"
Janek laughed. "Of course, of course. I’ll bring your drinks right out. Now, Lenka has prepared several fine dishes tonight. We have roasts of beef and lamb with the last of the summer vegetables, and I think a shepherd's pie."
"Lamb for me." Eating the meat of bovines made Pancras uncomfortable. Although minotaurs resembled cows, they weren't actually related to them. Nonetheless, eating beef was a little too close to cannibalism for Pancras.
"Us, too!"
Edric nodded. "Is it lamb or mutton? It seems late for lamb."
"Oh yes, of course, it is mutton. My apologies." Janek bowed to the dwarf.
"I'll have beef, then."
"Very well. I think they're not quite ready, but you're welcome to sit and drink while Lenka finishes up in the kitchen. Other patrons will be arriving shortly." Janek bowed to the table and went behind the bar to fetch their drinks while shouting toward the kitchen that guests were hungry.
Malediction (Scars of the Sundering Book 1) Page 9
