“... What do you mean I’m staying here?!” Lilia demanded.

“One of us has to do it.” Reud said, trying to placate her. “We can’t both go, it would leave the city too vulnerable.”

Lilia glared at him, her face thunderous. “Now you listen here, Reud Ashmark. I didn’t go through a war, die, and wait centuries to be resurrected just to let you wander off out there,” she punctuated her tirade by jabbing a finger at the window, “and let yourself get stabbed or burnt or captured or… or… whatever!”

Reud held out his hands. “If I could stay here, you know I would. But we have to secure supplies if we’re going to last the winter. You know how hard that can be, with the chimeras running rampant as they do. We have all this gold, but nothing to spend it on.”

Her glare slowly faded, replaced by sadness. “But why do you have to go? Why can’t you send someone else?”

“The carriages won’t move without me.” Reud said. “Besides, I need to look for the children. I know the Seekers took them to Avonford. Just imagine, bringing back even one fledgling mage. It would be the start of getting Rudase back on track.”

Lilia leaned in and headbutted him softly on the shoulder. “Damn you Reud. Why do you have to make so much sense.”

Reud pulled her into a hug. “I hate to be apart just as much as you do. But I need to do this. I’ll only be gone a few weeks at most.”

They just stood there, holding each other, revelling in the closeness.

“You watch yourself.” Reud said, pulling back from her. “I’ll leave Bo here with you. Through him, you can easily command all the other skeletons in the city.”

“You be careful too. By the end of the month, I expect you back here, so don’t go doing any-”

Reud smiled and leaned in, kissing her deeply, cutting off the end of her sentence.

For a moment, the feeling of her lips was all that mattered.

—

The rain was pouring down when they finally departed, the patter of the downpour playing a soothing tune on the roof of the carriage. The small convoy groaned into movement, the undead within each turning the wheels on Reud’s command. Then, they were rolling out along the southern road.

Jessabelle sat in the front carriage, alongside Reud. That carriage was the only one fitted with seats for passengers. The second was filled with a number of small goods, polished chimera fangs, carved wooden figurines, and the best of the wolf-hide cloaks. Items that would hopefully entice the merchants of Avonford to risk travelling further down the river to moor at Srinaber. The final two carriages were empty, ready to be filled with anything they purchased in Avonford, ideally as much food as they could pack into its confines.

Reud looked to over the girl sitting beside him, her eyes fixed firmly ahead. Rachel had recommended her to perform the trading for the growing city, and she had proved herself to be competent when dealing with the surrounding villages. It was a large step up from that to acting as the representative of Srinaber with the mercantile nobles of Avonford, but Rachel assured him that Jessabelle was up to the challenge.

“Nervous?” Reud asked her.

Jessabelle jumped, panic in her eyes as she turned to him. “N-No, Lord Reud. J-Just excited.”

The carriage hit a bump, making the woman jump once again. Her eyes wide, she peered out the window, looking to the front of the carriage where there was a distinct lack of horses.

“Wondering how the carriage moves?” Reud asked, seeing the direction of her gaze.

Jessabelle’s face flushed. “I’m sorry, I wouldn’t presume to-”

Reud held up a hand to halt her apologies. “It’s okay. I’d actually love to tell you, if you’re interested.”

Jessabelle nodded her head, listening in rapt fascination as Reud explained about the undead turning the wheels.

“That’s… unbelievably useful.” Jessabelle said after he finished. “A carriage that can travel all day and night, without needing expensive horses. No need to worry about how to structure your journey to always be spending the night somewhere safe. You have no idea what the value of this would be to a merchant group.”

Reud raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Really, it’s that valuable?”

Jessabelle nodded. “You know if we sell these, the other items will be worthless in comparison. One of these would be enough to get the merchants to travel to Srinaber.”

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Reud sat back, stroking his chin. He hadn’t ever considered that there would be a desire for one of these carriages from a merchant. Of course, to allow it to be sold, it would need to be operable by someone without an affinity. Maybe he could embed some sort of control mechanism into the carriage wall, maybe connected to some sort of limited necromantic instruction inscription.

An interesting problem to ponder over the journey.

—

“Lord Reud.”

Jessabelle’s voice stirred Reud from his thoughts. The woman had her head stuck out of the carriage window, gesturing at something in the distance. “We’re almost there!”

Reud leaned over to the other window to look outside. For the past week, the only scenery visible from the carriage window was deep forest, interspersed with the odd clearing. At night, chimeras had sniffed around the outside of the carriage, but with only a single truly living person within, none risked attacking the strange contraptions. Now, however, the carriage was surrounded by rolling fields, stretching far off into the distance on all sides, dotted with grazing beasts.

And ahead, at the end of the road, stood a vast city.

Reud looked it over in interest. Centuries ago, when he’d last come this far south, Avonford had been just barely more than a small town. Built in a meander of the Seine river, it had served as the stopping point for boats travelling from Calista to Srinaber. The natural defence of being surrounded on three sides by the river allowed the town to flourish without fear of chimeras, and as such was a popular destination for travellers.

That small town was gone. In its place stood a city, as majestic as any Reud had visited in his time. A tall stone wall ran from the banks of the river out in a wide arc, on both sides of the Seine. Surrounding the wall was a sprawling mass of ramshackle houses, protected by another, smaller, wooden wall. A constant stream of people moved in and out of the city, carrying all manner of goods.

Reud turned to Jessabelle. “So, where do you suggest we head towards? Any inns you would suggest staying in?”

“We want to go into the inner city, that's where the real money lives. The outer city has many smaller markets, but none of the merchants that we need to entice.”

Reud nodded, and they continued on, rolling uncontested through the outer city gates and into the outer city itself. Tall buildings crowded the road, leaning over from both sides as if they were trying to touch in the middle. People bustled in all directions, passing in and out of the myriad of buildings. The sounds of talking filled the air, sometimes joined by shouts, as pedestrians and carts fought for control over the limited road space. No one, however, obstructed Reud’s way. Instead, they gave the horseless carriages strange looks, then proceed to give them a wide berth.

“The outer city seems so busy, are there really no contacts we can make here?” Reud asked.

Jessabelle shrugged. “There may be some smaller ones, but I have no idea how we’d find them. Anyone who is anyone lives in the inner city. The outer city is really for those without the money or connections to live anywhere else.”

Reud nodded, continuing to look out at the throngs of people. “There’s just, so many people.” He mused to himself.

Jessabelle looked at him strangely. “I’m surprised, you must not have visited many cities then my lord. This isn’t that large. I visited Calista once, when I was a girl. It puts Avonford to shame.”

Reud nodded again, saying nothing. Back in his time, there was nothing like this concentration of people, in any city. Places like this must have been where the population that once spread throughout the land had congregated, the safety of sheer numbers acting to protect them from the increasing numbers of chimeras that plagued the wilderness. A sad state of affairs, that they’d have to subject themselves to such cramped conditions simply to survive.

—

Soon the inner city gates came into sight. Guards stood before it, stopping each group that approach.

Jessabelle, spotting the direction of his gaze, spoke up. “The inner city is restricted to only those with passes to enter, or who can pay the toll.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a pass, would you?” Reud asked her.

Jessabelle shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t. My father had one, but my brothers took it when they took everything else.” Anger flashed across her face. “The toll is small, though, only a quarter-crown.”

Reud nodded, pulling a small purse from his robes, filled with small monetary denominations. Pulling out a half-crown, he passed the silver-alloy disk stamped with a crown and the sunburst of Lightire over to Jessabelle.

It took almost half an hour of waiting in the queue for them to reach the gate. The guards strode over, eyeing the carriage apprehensively. “Present your passes or state your business!”

Jessabelle opened the carriage door and leaned out, giving the guard a smile. “No passes, but we are here to visit a good friend of mine.” She held out the coin. “Here, we will pay the toll.”

The guard took the coin, putting it into a small pouch at his waist, and waved for them to continue. With a thought, Reud commanded the carriages to begin moving forward again, and together they rolled on into the inner city.

The city within the walls was completely different from outside. Where outside the buildings were ramshackle, crammed together into every available space, here they were pristine, elegant. Each a small estate, surrounded by a wall of its own. Here and there, gates stood open, revealing immaculately kept gardens within. Rising above the walls were majestic buildings, each striving to outdo the other. In the outer city, the most common building material was wood and brick, giving the place a dirty, dark look. In here, the buildings were made of bright stone, from shimmering marble to polished granite.

The sheer contrast between the outer and inner city lighted a dull, burning anger within Reud. Just when he was starting to admire the advances made in his absence, this stark reminder of injustice reared its ugly head. He’d never liked the nobles that flaunted their position, using it to oppress and subjugate those of lesser birth. Here was proof that the attitude hadn’t faded one bit over the centuries. In fact, it may have even become worse than ever before.

Under his rule, that attitude would be stamped out.

He’d make sure of it.