The Brazen City

by Torsten Weitze

  ‘And what’s it like down in the south, behind Thousand Halls?’ interjected Ahren with another harmless question. His master was in an expansive mood, and Ahren was going to make full use of it.

  ‘First there’s a desert as long as it’s wide, in which the unprepared die of thirst in no time at all. It takes two weeks to pass through it if you follow the Sword Path. If you deviate from it, you’re as good as gone. Beyond it lies countryside both beautiful and forbidding, consisting of sand, dust and oases. Hence the name of the empire, whose plains are so varied and marked by the sun. The Sunplainers are proud of this variety and intend to expand it as far as the Ice Fields in the south and the Green Sea to the north-east.’ His voice had taken on an anxious tone. ‘I always forget how much this nation tends towards expansion. If Quin-Wa hadn’t attacked them, the Sunplainers would probably be at war with every large nation of Jorath and might well have already swallowed up the smaller ones.’

  Now they were coming to the more exciting themes. ‘Was that maybe why she declared war on the Sunplains? To stop their expansion?’ he pressed. He found it hard to come to terms with the fact that the Eternal Empress was a Paladin and also one of the Ancients, and yet at the same time she provoked a bloody war that had been going on for generations already. It was true that the Paladins had experienced hard times, and he had learned from Falk’s past how far they had fallen, but creating an empire in order to attack another one was a different kettle of fish from drinking too much and hiring yourself out as a mercenary, as Falk had done.

  His master pondered Ahren’s question. ‘Maybe that really was one of her reasons’, he said cautiously. ‘Quin-Wa always had the tendency to do three things with the hope of getting fifteen different results. Her ruthless efficiency seems to be reflected all over the Eternal Empire.’ He looked over at Ahren. ‘The truth is we really don’t know. She could just as easily been driven by boredom. The centuries can come to feel endless - I can tell you that much.’

  Falk winked at him as he said this, and Ahren knew his master well enough to realise that the old man wasn’t going to expand on this point any further, and so the young Forest Guardian came to the point that was concerning him the most. ‘What will we do if Justinian refuses our help as go-betweens, or he has Bergen executed in spite of everything?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘We’ll rebel against him’, said Falk in a hard voice. Bergen is one of us, one of the Thirteen. We need him in the war against HIM, WHO FORCES. Uldini would rather tear down the mountain on which The Brazen City stands than lose another Paladin. That was what I tried to explain yesterday. If the worst comes to the worst, it’s just we Thirteen Paladins against the rest of the world, but without the Thirteen of us, we’re powerless.’ His voice was quiet and flat and Ahren shivered.

  The young man’s determination to save as many innocent beings from the consequences of the Dark Days that lay before them would be much more difficult to implement than he had anticipated. He pondered for a while and tousled Culhen’s neck-fur absently. The wolf had been walking close to him all morning and kept looking up at him with his loyal eyes.

  Finally, they approached the low mountain with its flattened summit, and Ahren could see in the distance a wrought-iron barred gate. It guarded a tunnel which seemed to lead directly into the mountain, but the gate was raised for now. An ox and cart were coming out of the entrance, as the group of travellers climbed steadily up the path. The tunnel was square-shaped, a good dozen paces wide and equally high.

  ‘Is Waterheart a dwarf enclave?’ he asked confused.

  Trogadon laughed heartily and shook his head. ‘No, son, but first impressions can be misleading, I’ll give you that. After the Pall Pillar was created, the Plainers asked us to assist in building their city and the waterways. That’s why everything looks a little Dwarfish.’

  Ahren’s ears pricked up. ‘Did you say waterways? You mean there are more of them?’

  ‘Three in total’ answered the dwarf warrior. ‘The northern one – you know that one already. Then there’s the one that leads east towards the Core Country, and the last one, which carries water south into the middle of the desert.’

  Ahren looked to the horizon left and right of the mountain. He squinted and could finally make out a construction to the east that seemed to wind its way through the countryside at a surprisingly flat angle.

  ‘That one doesn’t reach as far as the northern one, and the land dips very slightly towards the east. Which is why it’s so dainty’ added Trogadon, seeing Ahren’s doubtful expression.

  As they approached the tunnel, and the mountain began to dominate their view, Ahren realised that the rock rose two furlongs, but its width stretched a good ten across. The steep rock-face was remarkably smooth, and when they finally arrived at the tunnel, the apprentice saw that the mountain looked as if it had been pressed upwards out of the ground.

  When the travellers reached the entrance to the mountain, a dozen sentries at the gate bowed respectfully in front of them. The officer in charge, who had recognised Uldini immediately, gave a signal, and instantly seven enormous sedan chairs appeared from the dark opening. Each of them was carried by eight muscular young men, who lowered the sedans right in front of them so that none of the visitors needed to take an unnecessary step when climbing in.

  Ahren stared at the vehicle in disbelief. ‘Are we supposed to climb in and allow ourselves to be carried?’ he asked Falk in a low voice. A horse and cart was already luxury enough for a Forest Guardian like himself. Being carried by the muscular strength of other people was just too embarrassing to contemplate.

  Falk gave an affirming nod. ‘I know what you mean. I don’t like it either. But this pompous form of transport befits Uldini’s station here, as does all the other deference and luxury that we’re going to enjoy. We want as many dignitaries as possible to believe his news of the Thirteenth Paladin’s return, so we’ll just play along with it and strengthen his authority.’ And with a look of disgust on his face, the old man sank back into the extremely plump, white satin pillows, which almost swallowed him up, forcing Ahren to suppress a grin.

  Selsena, on the other hand, seemed to be quite offended at the fact that Falk had abandoned her back in favour of the sedan, and the displeasure that she emitted confirmed her displeasure. Culhen seriously considered jumping up and joining Ahren in the sedan, but the apprentice threw the lazy wolf a warning look until his four-legged friend gave up the idea and trotted along faithfully beside him. Ahren chuckled until he noticed Khara and Jelninolan admiring the muscles of the semi-naked sedan-bearers. At which point his merriness vanished. While they were being carried into the rock, he watched the young swordsgirl keenly until Trogadon, who was being carried alongside him, had seen enough.

  ‘If you really want to, I can show you how to look like those men there’, he said conspiratorially, and pointed at the panting and sweating bearers, who were struggling under the immense weight of the dwarf, while casting envious looks at their fellow-bearers, who were carrying much lighter loads. ‘A little exercise every day, and your muscles will expand in no time.’

  Ahren blushed a deep red and turned his head away in embarrassment. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’, he grumbled quietly. And for the rest of the journey he deliberately studied the stone walls of the tunnel, which didn’t prevent Falk and the dwarf from laughing merrily at him.

  The tunnel led them steadily upwards in a wide, serpentine movement, only dimly lit by the torches that hung on the walls. When they finally came out into the daylight again, Ahren had to shield his dazzled eyes from the strong midday sun, which was burning down on them from a cloudless sky. As he was becoming accustomed to the light, he also noticed how much warmer it was here in the city. Within ten heartbeats the sweat was running down his back inside his armour, and Ahren hoped he would soon be able to dress more suitably. He was now doubly embarrassed by the fact that the poor unfortunate servants still had to carry him through the streets of W
aterheart in this oppressive heat. His nostrils filled with strange aromas: spices that were completely unknown to him mixed with the mineral smell of a large body of water. He rubbed his eyes once again and suddenly he was able to make out more than mere outlines. And now that he could see Waterheart in all its glory, he was truly amazed.

  The table mountain must have been a volcano at one time, he realised. An enormous lake filled most of the crater he could see in front of him. Little whitewashed houses with flat roofs were pressed into the rock. They stood beside each other in neat rows, taking up every available bit of dry land in several concentric circles around the lake. The narrow, intertwined streets between the houses, as well as the three main roads, were the only means of moving forward, and many of the residents seemed to travel through the city in little boats that crisscrossed the lake. There were little cockleshells with room for only one person, and bigger boats with up to six people or laden down with essential goods. A constant noise reverberated in the crater, caused by three small artificial tunnels that had had been carved at water level into the rock wall, and from which gurgling lake water continually disappeared. This had to be the source of the waterways, and Ahren felt a deep respect for the ingenuity of the Sunplainers. They had suffered dreadful misfortune when the Dead Hills had been created, but rather than leave, they had used the effects of the spell to slowly bring life back into the land by using the water from the charm-created lake. In the middle of the lake Ahren could see the unmistakable rippling of a strong current, and he was sure that was where the water was pushed upward, which would later flow away in the three artificial canals. The young man looked happily at Trogadon and Falk, who grinned back at him, knowing exactly how he felt.

  ‘Everyone is overcome the first time’, growled the dwarf, who was moved himself. ‘It was about a hundred years ago when I was here first. We were chasing a few bandits. You were with us, weren’t you?’ he asked Falk.

  Ahren understood that he was referring back to their shared experiences as mercenaries, but the old Forest Guardian shook his head.

  ‘That must have been after my time. The last time I saw this place the second waterway had just been built, and there were a lot fewer houses around. There’s hardly enough room to swing a cat now’, he grunted, and wiped the sweat from his beard. ‘I’d forgotten how hot it is here.’

  Falk was right. There wasn’t a breath of wind within the enormous rock basin, and the dark volcanic rock seemed to attract the heat of the sun. The sedan bearers continued steadily onwards and carried them down towards the water’s edge. The air was much more bearable here, and Ahren noticed that the houses directly on the water were much larger and more luxurious than their narrow, dustier counterparts in the upper rows. It seemed as if properties on the lake were much sought after, and he could understand why as he drew the cool, refreshing air deep into his lungs.

  The sedan bearers finally stopped in front of a large property, one of the few multi-storeyed buildings in Waterheart. An overhanging balcony dominated the top floor of the enormous house. It offered the visitors cooling shade as they stepped out of their sedans. Four servants in blue and white uniforms bowed in a ripple effect in front of them and gestured, without saying a word, to the travellers that they should enter the house. Selsena was led to a comfortable stable.

  Ahren noticed much to his irritation that two of the four servants had very dark skin, and a third one had the same light-yellow tone as Khara.

  ‘Don’t tell me they’re slaves’, he said indignantly to Falk, but Uldini immediately intervened and reassured him concerning his misgivings.

  ‘No, they’re not. The Sunplainers have conquered large tracts of land over the years, and the reason they are so successful is the simple fact that the conquered peoples enjoy the same rights afterwards, like the original Plainers with their pale skin and curly hair. Half of the Sun Emperor’s team of advisors come from the southern countries, two are from what once were provinces of the Eternal Empire, and one even comes from the Jungles although they don’t officially belong to the Plains.’ The Arch Wizard shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. ‘You can accuse my people of making many mistakes, but they certainly aren’t vindictive. If someone turns up, they are always welcome and can participate in whatever occupation they wish.’

  Ahren looked curiously at the servants, who were now leading them up a narrow spiral staircase to the first floor. The young Forest Guardian had only seen a few doors inside the house, but they were all open, presumably to let as much fresh air as possible circulate throughout the house. The furnishings were remarkably modest when compared to the opulent exterior of the property - which reflected the property-owner’s wealth. Whoever lived here clearly kept luxury to a level that wasn’t ostentatious. They were led through a cloistered courtyard which had spacious bedrooms left and right. Then they reached the large balcony where a stocky man of about fifty winters was sitting, wearing an airy, loose-fitting garment whose wide sleeves and trouser legs suggested that their host was still in his sleeping garb. His dark hair was plaited in the fashion of the little folk, and for a moment Ahren wasn’t sure if he was looking at a very large dwarf or a small, squat human.

  ‘I’m delighted that you’ve finally arrived.’ The man approached them beaming and opened his arms in a welcoming manner. ‘I had them searching everywhere for you, but you were nowhere to be found until I finally heard reports of some crazy people walking along the waterway.’ He gave a practised bow in front of Uldini and winked mischievously at the Arch Wizard. ‘Then I knew that our all-powerful master had returned.’

  Uldini rolled his eyes before quickly embracing the stranger. Ahren raised his eyebrows in surprise at the unfamiliar friendliness of his normally tetchy travelling companion, but the Arch Wizard turned towards them and made a formal gesture towards the stocky man.

  ‘Allow me to introduce Akkad tul Balan to you. He is one of the Ancients and I would describe his as a sluggish whale in a bay of sharks. He covers my back because there are few Ancients senior to him and so he can issue instructions in my place.’

  Akkad gave an indulgent smile. ‘I see you as my friend too, for which I am grateful.’ The man spoke in a peculiarly sing-song manner which Ahren found both warm and soft, and the gentle reproach towards Uldini in his voice contained genuine warmth.

  Jelninolan stepped forward and embraced the little man. ‘It’s been an eternity, Akkad. How are your family?’ she asked warmly.

  ‘All are happy and well. After Pulatan departed from us ten years ago, I got to know my Walina.’ He sounded like a shy youth as he continued. ‘She is heavy with our second child and I can hardly wait to see her again.’

  Jelninolan looked at him wide-eyed. You’re married again? Are you never satisfied?’

  Ahren shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment. ‘I have a lot of love in my heart and I don’t like being alone. The joy at sharing my life with them outweighs the sadness that comes with the knowledge that I will outlive them as I have all the others.’

  Falk scowled, but stepped forward too and shook hands. ‘What number wife are you on now? The twenty-fifth?’

  ‘Forty-eighth’, replied Akkad calmly. ‘Not all of us Ancients lead a life of loneliness.’

  Ahren saw that Falk had tensed up even more. ‘Not all of us have a choice’, he replied coldly and then turned away to look from the balcony down onto the lake.

  Akkad sighed quietly. ‘Is it really that hard for him to accept the happiness others might have?’

  ‘He’s a good man, who only wants what’s best for everyone!’ interjected Ahren in an angry tone. His original positive feelings towards the man had changed to a deep disgust, born of his loyalty to his master.

  ‘You’re reminding him of what he himself has lost’, said Jelninolan in a low voice, but Akkad’s attention was now focussed completely on Ahren.

  ‘You must be the Thirteenth Paladin, who Falk discovered in the back of beyond. Welcome to Waterheart. I will do every
thing in my power to help you on your journey’, he said in a strangely formal voice, and bowed before the incensed young man, this time without a hint of mischief in his eyes.

  The Ancient seemed to be completely unfazed by Ahren’s anger, and the young man, who was disconcerted by this reaction, stammered a few words of thanks. The relaxed manner of his opposite had a disarming effect, and now the young Paladin understood why Uldini had described him as a whale. The man’s presence seemed to fill the balcony with an unusual calmness and any resentment was like water off a duck’s back.

  Ahren was relieved when their host turned towards the others to greet them. Khara presented her usual impassive face while Trogadon grasped the man’s forearms firmly. They both looked almost like brothers, and they were in spirit although not blood-related. Trogadon expressed his joie-de-vivre through laughter and song while Akkad did so through a steady calmness as if he were a second sun, bathing those around him in a warm golden glow. They looked deep into each other’s eyes, and Ahren was convinced that he had just witnessed the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

  Then Akkad released himself from the dwarf and turned with a curious look towards Culhen, who up to this point had remained at the entrance to the balcony sniffing around him. The wolf had smelled something he couldn’t find, and Ahren sensed a rising irritability in his friend.

  The stocky Ancient was smiling at a joke that clearly only he understood. ‘I see you can still smell my snack, am I right?’ he said, teasing the large wolf. Then he made a flinging gesture with his hand and a large roast appeared in the air, flew in a wide arc and landed directly before Cullen’s front paws.

  Both Ahren and his companion were stunned by the food, but the wolf’s reflexes were decidedly faster than those of the young man. The young Forest Guardian was still gaping in amazement as the wolf bit into the meat, which he started feasting on greedily, rolled up into a ball in a corner of the balcony.