by Guy Antibes
The walls grew even taller as they approached an eastern gate. The traffic was light going in and out of the city, and the guards flirted a bit with Lissa, asking for a modest amount of money to let them through.
Once in the city, Potur told them that they would have had to pay more than twice as much if they were known to be smugglers.
“You are worth your weight in iron,” Trevor said to Lissa. “Thank you for staying calm and enduring their comments.”
“Iron, eh? What is a girl going to do when complimented by such handsome men?” Lissa said with a smile.
“Take it, pay your bribe, and move on,” Potur said.
“Now that that is over, where do we go from here?” Lissa asked.
“We take the outside ring road that runs along the inside of the wall for a mile or so. Our destination is close by,” Potur said.
“No ocean view?” Trevor asked, almost sincere.
“None, but I have contacts on the wharf. We will see and smell the sea tomorrow.”
Trevor settled in the rear as they rode to the ring road that Potur talked about with the wall on their right and a weedy patch with bushes and trees before reaching the buildings of Khartoo. There was plenty of traffic once they reached the road to the sea intersecting with the ring road. Trevor could look down the broad avenue as it headed in a straight line to the sea.
They didn’t spend a lot of time on the ring road, but just after they turned off, it stopped.
“The road stops at a gate where there is a garrison and then begins again on the other side. Long ago, it ran along the walls unimpeded. I wish it did again,” Potur said.
They turned off on a road that headed toward the sea. This one didn’t go all the way. The buildings were made of plaster over bricks. Trevor could tell because the plaster was falling off in chunks revealing the bricks on many buildings.
“Is it like this all over Khartoo?” Trevor asked Potur, noting the sides of the buildings.
Potur nodded. “The damp air from the sea breaks down the plaster. In better areas, you’ll see lots of patches. In the best areas, All the buildings look new since they are repaired every year if not more often.” He turned into a gate. “We have arrived. I can’t see us moving anywhere else while we are in Khartoo.”
The exterior might have looked different, but Trevor had never seen a truly unique setup for an inn. This one even had a dining room and a common room. The insides looked better than the outside with its peeling plaster.
The innkeeper, a woman, seemed to know Potur. They each had rooms in a row on the second floor with the windows facing the street. Trevor looked outside his window, seeing rickshaws on the roads. He wondered who came up with the idea first, Jarkan or Maskum? He opened the window and blinked his eyes. The wind had shifted, and a thick salty odor from the sea assaulted him.
He looked up at a lowering sky. Trevor could see wisps of fog moving through the streets. No one seemed alarmed, so he guessed this was a common thing in Khartoo. Lissa knocked on the door and opened it a crack. “Do you smell the ocean?” she asked.
“I do,” Trevor said. “The fog looks inviting too.”
Lissa shivered. “Fog can turn a summer day into fall.”
“How often does this occur?” Trevor asked.
Lissa shrugged. “I’m not sure, but a few times a week, I guess. Did you smell the air?” She made a face. “It smells the same here as it does in Sirland. Father said it was all the rotten seaweed, but,” she shrugged her shoulders, “how would I know? I was only twelve.”
“There are smart twelve-year-olds. I’ll bet you were smart then,” Trevor said.
“Were you smart?”
Trevor laughed. “A sword had already been placed in my hand. I learned what I could from Brother Yvan, but most of my time was spent on the practice field. I wouldn’t consider myself dumb, and I can remember most of what I read.”
“You aren’t dumb, in a bookish sense.”
“But I’m dumb in other ways?” Trevor asked.
“We are all dumb in other ways. I can’t wield a sword like you, and you can’t wield a thunderbolt.”
“That is why we are a team,” Trevor said, putting his arms around Lissa.
Potur poked his head in the doorway. “Time for dinner and then a long walk,” he said before closing the door gently.
“A long walk?” Lissa asked. “I hope I have something warm enough.”
~
Trevor shivered in the foggy night air. He envied the thick wool coat that Potur seemed to have acquired since they arrived that afternoon in Khartoo. They walked through damp streets until he found a shop that appeared to be closed. Potur took them around to the back and softly knocked while Trevor held the pack animal’s reins.
An old man almost as tall as Trevor let them in.
“Potur! This is unexpected.”
“For me, as well,” Potur said.
“You have goods for me?”
“I managed to acquire some before I left the border. We have the shipment outside, but I thought we could talk first. Sometimes you are too busy during the day.”
“And that is a bad thing?” the man said.
“No. I brought an important person with me.”
“And an important young lady, too, I can see,” the old man said with nothing but courtesy in his voice.
“This is Des Boxster,” Potur said. He looked at Trevor. “Show him your token.”
Trevor pulled out the little metal plate. It had the name and his birthdate. The old man took the token and lit a ball of magic light, and examined it. He looked at Trevor. “A mountain boy, eh?”
“I’ve been called other things too,” Trevor said.
“This is my half sister, Lissa Lott. She’s full Jarkanese.”
Lissa handed over her token. The old man examined it, handed it back, and said, “What can I help you with?”
Trevor didn’t have an answer. All he wanted to do was to learn about the magicians.
“My sister’s boyfriend would like to know about the magic practiced at the magicians’ enclave. He wants to see if he might qualify.”
Trevor still didn’t know what was being discussed. He had to hold on until some indicator was mentioned.
“Can you find someone to take the two of them across the bay and educate them? The boy, especially. The local cleric has told him he’s got a special talent, but the only talent I’ve been able to figure out is that he carries around a sword that he can hardly swing.”
The old man looked at the handle poking out Trevor’s shoulder. “Pull it out, boy.”
Trevor did as the man said and laid it on the old man’s lap.
“Jarkanese ceremonial sword. It could even be an old focus sword. No question about that, but someone has fiddled with it.” He looked up at Trevor. “Is this your work?”
“No, sir,” Trevor said. “My daddy had it reworked by an old army friend in a border town.”
“Excellent work. This can absorb magic, you know?”
“I heard, but I can’t do anything like that. I’d like to learn how they do such a thing from the western magicians.”
“Western magicians. I don’t know where you pick this tripe up, Potur.” The old man leaned toward Trevor. “Let me tell you about enclave magicians. They aren’t a single group. There are fifteen or twenty cabals all vying for primacy, although there is talk of there being alliances in place for the last five or six years. I wouldn’t know about that. I have a contact which is connected to a recruiting service. I can get you inside to be tested. They are always interested in talent with a penchant for real arms and magic, but there are no guarantees. Most applicants are rejected, if they come out of the enclave, at all.”
“I’d appreciate that,” Trevor said, trying to sound like an eager village boy.
“What is in it for you, Potur?”
The scout sighed. “Lissa and Des are aiming to get married, and the girl wants to make sure Des has done what he can do
on the magic side.”
Lissa sat with her hands folded on her lap and smiled.
“I’ll do that if your merchandise is up to its regular quality.”
“It is,” Potur said.
“Then I’ll arrange a boat for the day after tomorrow. It’s always better to arrive by sea at the enclave.” The old man yawned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my old bones need their rest.”
“Thank you for your time,” Potur said.
The old man nodded and ushered them out the back door and took possession of Potur’s goods.
“You played that nicely. I thought you’d seem more genuine if I sprung old Mak on you without rehearsal. He’s a smart one and knows you aren’t who you say you are, but Mak’s wife has the biggest ears in Khartoo, and her brother is in the secret police.”
“Secret police?” Lissa asked once they were out in the street.
“Sound carries in the fog, so speak quietly or whisper,” Potur said.
“Why didn’t we come during the day if he knows we aren’t who we say we are?” Lissa asked.
“He is a drug dealer. If you didn’t notice, the shop sells candy, and he gets a lot of genuine business and drug business.”
“You are a drug runner?” Trevor asked.
“I come here just often enough to use that as my cover, but there are drugs illegal in Khartoo that are legal and common in Jarkan. Most of them are for pain and others… you don’t have to know about them. I get them from the garrison dispensary. They will buy more in the town. I’ve been supplying him for years. I have gotten some great information through his network.”
“He is a spy too?” Lissa asked.
“You can be a little more discreet if you want,” Trevor said.
“It is a ticklish thing because of his wife, but she legitimizes what he does. In Khartoo, anything can be legal if the bribes keep coming.”
“And the wife likes the money?” Trevor asked.
Potur nodded. “As well as her brother, but I’d rather go through Mak than through his brother-in-law even if he is likely the contact. Getting too close to the final contact is like delivering honey to a bear,” Potur said as they arrived at their inn.
“You gave him a good enough deal to pay off Mak and his contact?” Trevor said.
“Precisely. If you go directly south to the ocean and then back again, you shouldn’t have a problem being on your own,” Potur said. “I’ll see you here day after tomorrow. Get yourself a diver’s outfit. It is waterproof, warm, and black. Plenty of people wear the outfit in Khartoo. You can go out in the open tomorrow, but the day after, you will have to assume you are watched. Once you set foot in a boat heading to the magician’s enclave on the west side of the bay, you are on your own.”
Chapter Sixteen
~
W hen they walked around on the miles-long wharf, Trevor’s jaw dropped. There were clusters of piers all around the bay. Boats of all kinds bobbed on the waters. Trevor guessed that most were fishing vessels.
There were lots of people wearing the diving outfits that Potur described. They walked into a shop with a few of them in the window.
“I’d like one of those,” Trevor said. “How much are they?”
The shopkeeper quoted an outrageous price. Trevor tried to get her down, but she refused. They left the shop, frustrated. He stopped two young men, adorned with their own versions of the outfit.
“I’m from outside Khartoo,” Trevor began. “I went in there,” he pointed to the shop, “but they don’t have anything I can afford.”
“You look like you are from the mountains. That is a custom shop. All their suits are made to order. If you want a ready-made suit, go to that place.” One of the young men pointed to a more modest shop with more of the suits in the window.
Trevor bowed to the men, who just laughed and went on their way.
“You didn’t have to stretch to play the part of a naive young man in a strange city,” Lissa said.
“I suppose so,” a humbled Trevor said as they walked to the other shop.
“I’d like to buy a diver’s outfit,” Trevor said.
The clerk looked up at Trevor. “How much are you willing to pay?”
Trevor smiled inside. That was the kind of question he wouldn’t answer, but the sort of question he liked to hear. He responded by giving a price one-tenth that the woman in the custom shop had quoted.
The shopkeeper sputtered and countered with a price eight-tenths of the custom shop. They were getting closer to the fifty percent range when Trevor asked to try on the suit the man would sell him. There was another sputter. The man went into the back and pulled out four boxes. “Outfits have a close-fitting tunic, trousers, a jacket, and a hooded cloak. These will give you the best fit.”
Trevor tried them on, and everything was too short, especially the trousers. He’d look like a fool. “I’m sorry.” He put a coin in the shopkeeper’s hand. “Here’s something for your trouble.”
He walked back to the custom shop. “How soon can I get an outfit made?”
“Tonight is the soonest. We don’t have another order today.”
“I’ll pay eighty percent of what you quoted me. Your merchandise is much better than the outfits in that store.”
The woman looked at the other shop. She gave him a price ninety percent of what she originally quoted, but she would throw in a black knit hat. Trevor agreed.
“I’ll be here tonight.” He stayed and let the woman take measurements, but he made sure the sizing included his wearing the cuirass underneath the jacket. When he left the shop, he heard the woman call out to someone in the rear. “Hot order,” she said.
Trevor hoped he hadn’t been taken, but he couldn’t walk around with his ankles showing. They found a few stands around the docks selling seafood prepared in different ways. Trevor had never tasted saltwater fish, and he liked what he ate.
As they sat at rickety tables watching passersby, plenty of men and a few women were wearing the diving suits. Some looked worn, and others looked brand new. He noticed that some of the men brandished swords, but they were always worn at the hip under the cloak, and the jacket, with the coat, unbuttoned halfway up to fit the hilt.
It looked uncomfortable, but Trevor recognized a style when he saw one. They headed back to the inn. Potur wasn’t expected until dinner, so they sat in the common room nursing the thin beer they sold in Khartoo. Potur finally joined them.
“Do you want to eat here or in the dining room? The food is more to my taste here,” he said.
Trevor nodded. “Here, of course. Is that all right, Lissa?”
“It is,” she said.
“Were you successful at the docks?” Potur said.
Trevor had his entire story ready, but when he finished, Potur laughed. “Those two shops are owned by the same person. You could have done worse, but not by much. If you would have asked me, I’d say the going discount was seventy-five percent. Watch the fitting. They still might want to stick you with ready-made parts.”
“Have you bought a diving outfit before?”
Potur shook his head. “That is for rich young people, like you. People who are interested in style. I’m sure the magicians will be looking for that quality in you, so don’t take your outfit back.”
“Why do they call it a diving outfit?” Lissa asked.
“Fishermen wear a similar outfit when they work. The cloth is tightly woven and waterproof. The cloth also comes from some animal with fur or hair or something that is warm when wet. They use the hair to make a thick fabric. You can swim in the stuff, but if you dive with an outfit on, you need weights to go down because the outfits are buoyant. Fishermen wear them so they won’t drown.”
“So even the name is an affectation,” Trevor said.
Potur nodded. “It is indeed, now that you mention it.”
They ate a meal that wasn’t elegant, but the fish stew was seasoned to perfection. Although Trevor hadn’t experienced the taste before, he like
d it. If Khartoo had stinky air, it certainly had tasty food to make up for it.
Potur and Trevor rode to the docks to pick up Trevor’s outfit. He tried on the pants and frowned. The shirt was too small, as was the tunic. “I can’t buy this,” he said to the woman who had waited on him earlier in the day.
“Let me make some alterations.” She slipped in the back, and a few moments later, Trevor tried on the outfit that was measured for him. He gave the woman a tip and wore the outfit out into the foggy air.
“How do I look?” Trevor said in the magic light that illuminated the shop’s doorway.
“Black,” Potur said. “If you have to sneak around in the enclave, that is the outfit to choose.”
Trevor brightened. “And I’ve already chosen it.”
They returned to the inn, where Trevor modeled his new attire. He checked the quality and found nothing amiss. He wondered why the woman bothered to cheat him if she had already made a custom outfit. Trevor shook his head. Some people couldn’t help themselves, he guessed.
“I’ll take Lissa with me,” Potur said. “The magicians won’t talk to you if you bring an uninvited guest.”
“I suppose so,” Trevor said, adjusting his black outfit. He was unused to wearing the sword on his waist, but he didn’t have much of a choice if he wanted to make an impression and get some good information before the enclave magicians discovered he was immune.
He took Lissa aside. “Could you charge my sword and cuirass with magic? You won’t be with me, and if I get in a tight spot, I won’t have anyone to help me.”
“I’m not sure I’m able to put enough magic in to make it work,” Lissa said.
Potur knocked on the door. “Time to go. I’ll bring your horse back to the stable.”
Trevor found his contact, and he boarded a small boat with a single sail, waving to Potur as he left the port. Trevor had been on a boat before, and on the bay, the waves didn’t rise and fall like he thought they would out on the open sea. Their progress was steady, and he could see that boats could be faster than walking or riding around the crescent that made up Khartoo.
