Chapter 6: The City Watch

Landar

I stood in the snow as it fell lightly around us, watching the wagons and people enter the gate. The sun was high in the sky, and Farmer was sitting next to me.

“You ready to go?” He asked quietly. It was a fair question. We had been sitting there for almost an hour. I sighed, and nodded. Farmer tapped the horse with his reins and she picked up a steady trot towards the south gate.

Towards my fathers gate.

There were far more people here than I had ever seen entering the city before. Most were like us, carrying sacks and bags filled with what I was sure were tithes and taxes. But others were families. Huddled together against the growing chill in bare wagons, or walking on sore feet on cold stones.

Farmer caught me eyeing them.

“Every year there are a few of the border farmsteads that get attacked. They’re refugees more than likely, fleeing danger. From far south by the look of em. Not used to the cold.”

“Local lords are supposed to keep their people safe” I protested, knowing the reality was certainly different from whatever idyllic lies the noble class told themselves.

“Aye, but often lords out near nowhere aren’t as strong as they need to be to manage the threats out in the wilds.”

“What kind of threats?”

“Oh, beasts mostly. It's why hunting predators is so important. You keep their numbers down and it's less likely one will grow into something scary. And why we keep the deer numbers down too. So there’s not so many that they attract something scary from somewhere else. Also why most people don’t do a fool thing like build a farmstead so far away from town as I did.” He chuckled to himself as he guided the wagon into the flow of traffic.

I nodded, but was still curious. “What other things? Besides monsters I mean. We’ve seen plenty of predators and helped deal with them before. But, what else?”

“Ah, well, savage knife ears for one. But only the more cruel of their kindred. There are some who ain't so bad. They come with the dwarves when they do come in pace for a bit of trade. Haven’t seen one come as far north as us in years. Mostly though it's the savages. Frogmen, Ratmen, and other things that act like men, but are more beast than anything. Even the best of them are fickle creatures. Likely to skin a child, as save them if lost near their homes. Then there’s always the short folk, but they usually don’t cause so much trouble people need to be fleeing. Just a bit of pilfering is all. Like the traveling folk in their ways. Harmless mostly. And the dwarves can cause a bit of trouble, if you offend one of their traders they can hold a grudge until your grand-dad dies. Long memories, those ones.”

“Anything else?” I asked as I scanned the crowd, and the gathered guards. There were a few faces that looked vaguely familiar, but none that really stood out. None whose names I could place.

“Not rightly, safe dungeons of course. But those are adventurers' problems. Besides, if one gets found near your town, and it's anywhere near tamable your town isn’t fitting to be a town much longer. Not that that’s happened in a long time. Last one I know of was here, Vlane. That big old tower there.”

Farmer motioned towards the silver tower that soared into the sky like a beacon.

“Rumor says it's a dungeon the Arch-Duke talked into going up, instead of down. Some trick he learned in one of those kingdoms far to the east. So far east it's off the map, or so they say.”

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“You mean the academy?” I asked, confused by his story as I continued to search through the guards. We were nearly through the gate, and hadn’t been stopped yet.

“That’s what the nobles call it, as far as I can tell. But that's not something that . . .”

A guard stepped in front of the wagon and gently took the reins from Farmer. “Hello good man. Do you have your write-of-passage?” He was unfamiliar, and young. Probably only a year or two older than I was. And he looked completely bored.

Farmer elbowed me. “Give it to the man, boy.”

I blinked, confused.

“Give the guard our paper.” Farmer’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

“Uh . . .” I thought back to when we picked up the taxes, and remembered the paper I had been given. The blank paper. “Oh. You mean this?” I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled it out, then handed it over.

The guard unfolded the paper, and turned on what looked like a glowing dark light. He pointed the device at the paper and iInvisible ink erupted into visibility glowing a slight green. Showing the sign of our lord's house.

“This is good. You’ll find lodgings in the central square, food a street or two off that. The Temple complex is directly down the main street, with the High Collector's office to the left there.” The unfamiliar guard pointed down a road that ran parallel to the wall, back towards where the Grey Priesthood and their allies had attempted to organize a defense of the city. “If you want to stay for the formal court instead, that won’t happen for another two days. Welcome to Vlane, please move along.”

He waved us through without another thought, and just like that I was back home. In Vlane.

***

I had hoped to see my father at the gate. If he was still alive, free, and able to maintain his position, he would have been there. On a busy day like that, he would have been ensuring his men had adequate support. He was just that type. A lead from the front sort.

The fact I hadn’t meant that he was dead, imprisoned, or had lost his position as commander of the southern gate house. None of which were acceptable outcomes, and all deserving of reprisals.

It was a work of effort to keep from visibly showing my anger or grinding my teeth. A bad habit I had picked up while living with Farmer and his family.

We found a nice little inn, nothing fancy but in a safe part of the city that came with three square meals a day. We shared a room, and the horse and wagon were stabled and easily taken care of. By the time we were set up however, it was already growing dark.

When I tried to leave, the innkeeper stepped in front of me and locked the door. “Sorry sir.” The burly man said. “Curfew this time of year. With so many visitors, the Duke’s issued curfew by sunset.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, confused, and more than a little frustrated. My fingers itched to grab my ax and force my way through but I took a deep breath and calmed my nerves.

“Just a precaution is all. Ain't nothing I or anyone else can do about it, I'm afraid.” The man’s attitude was about the only thing stopping him from getting the flat side of my ax to his head. He was smiling, and clearly not trying to offend.

“Boy, what are you doing?” It was Farmer, he came up beside me and glared at the inn keeper. “What's going on?”

“We got a new captain of the guard for this quarter you see, and he’s a bit jumpy what with all the new people in town for tax and tithes and the like. So he asked the Duke for a curfew, and it was granted. Ain't nothing for it. And as you lot are my guests, you’re my responsibility. So no breaking curfew if you want a good bed and three squares here.” He folded his arms and the Farmer matched him and his glare.

For a moment I thought the two might have started issuing threats, but the innkeeper broke the tension, chuckling. “Look at us, adults about to fight like youngsters over curfew.” The man laughed, and Farmer shook his head smiling.

I couldn’t do a thing. I had just lost this fight, and I knew it. I let the tension in my shoulders ease, and forced my jaw to unclench. “Come now lad, sir, I’d be happy to offer you a good ale to ease the bother.”

I sighed, and went to have a drink as the sun finished setting, and one of my few opportunities for reconnaissance vanished before my eyes. To a man with a beautiful mustache, and a disarming belly laugh.

Then what he had said finished registering with me. “Did you say something about a new watch commander?”

“Aye, and my cousin works for him. They say he was injured in the fighting a few years ago, during the war they say. My cousin helps him with a few things, learning a lot from that man he says he is. What do you want to know?”

A smile crossed my face, perhaps I hadn’t lost my opportunity after all.