Part 1

Chapter 1

It rained gently as I paced through the dimly lit city street. Hunched, and with my hood up, I moved silently, avoiding the light from the lanterns as best I could. The drunkards were out tonight, which meant so were the whores, and no good came from either company.

Both were dotted like flies on every corner. The whores offered themselves loudly and unashamedly, and the drunkards were more than happy to oblige. No matter what the women of the night looked like, they got attention. Be they young or old, beautiful or ugly, fat or thin. It seemed to be unimportant to the men of the city. There was always some local who leered at them with a keen interest and deep pockets. It didn’t take long for me to notice that. I also realised from early on that staring for too long was just about the worst thing you could do. The less you looked, the less they bothered you, and that went for everyone in this city.

As I came to the end of the street corner, I glimpsed a man and woman leaning up against a wall. The man was the size of a cow, and the woman was as thin as a stick.

“That’ll get you fifteen minutes,” she said, “after that, the price goes up.”

“Don’t worry. That’s more than enough time with a beauty such as you,” he put a thick hand on her cheek. She gave a false smile.

I crossed the cobblestone road. The knapsack on my back made a faint jingling sound as I moved. I tried my best not to wonder what was inside.

In front of me, on the other side of the road, was a beggar. He sat cross-legged with a tankard by his bare feet. He was hoodless, letting rainwater drip through his long, greasy, hair. His twisted mouth gave him a sour look, and he had distant eyes. They were the eyes of a man who had known pain. The glazed-over stare of a cruel world. I had seen many like him since being in this city.

I kept my head down and passed him. But as I did, my foot landed in a deep puddle. I groaned as the cold water seeped into my sandal. I heard the beggar cackle hoarsely as I slipped through a side alley.

Normally I would have stopped and tried to dry my sandal, but not tonight. Tonight, I didn’t have time.

The alley itself was pitch black, but I could see the lights from the Revellers’ Square up ahead, and there was my next obstacle.

A stray cat meowed as I moved through. I couldn’t see her, but I knew where she lay. She was underneath a broken door that leaned up against the wall and, she had been there for a while. It had been at least a day or two since I had last seen her nursing her litter of kittens. There were five, maybe six of them in all, and each kitten looked as vulnerable as the next. I reckoned only a few would survive.

“Watch it,” came a voice from the darkness. A lady with wine-stained breath barged me as she shifted past. I’d be lying if I said she didn’t scare the life out of me, I didn’t sense her presence nor hear her until she was too close.

She kicked the door with the cats underneath and then giggled to herself at the hisses the mother cat made.

I sighed. the square was certainly going to be busy tonight.

I was close now, the light and the hoots and cheers from drunken voices blared through the night like a rumbling thunder.

I appeared out of the alleyway and was greeted with a sight that I was sure only this city had to offer. And that was the drunken madness of its people. The locals were doing what they always seemed to do, hugging, falling over, being sick, making bets, singing with one another, and fighting.

I took a deep breath and scanned my surroundings. The square had two entrances, the one I just came from and one that was directly opposite. It was the backyard to plenty of the local taverns, which made it an incredibly popular spot, and having so few entrances meant that guards didn’t come down too often. which made it an incredibly dangerous one.

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Moving around the edge of the square was always better than heading straight through the middle. There were fewer drunk faces around the edge which meant I was less likely to run into trouble. Although it was never a guarantee, especially when you look the way I do.

Being bronzed-skinned was enough for these pale folk to raise an eyebrow, but to have the marks of my homeland on my skin. The marks of the Deer Tribe of the Bervian hills on my hands, legs, neck, and back. That was enough to make them frown. To make them angry even. Normally I wouldn’t have come this way, but it was the best shortcut the city had to offer, so I had no choice.

Keeping my head down, I made my way across. I did my best to stay out of people’s way and seize any opening I could find as city folk staggered from one place to another. Fortune didn’t favour me as I bumped shoulders with a man, or shall I say, he bumped into me. Purposefully. He was smaller than I was, but he was wider, broader, and mean-looking. He muttered something drunken and unintelligible. I went to ignore him, but I saw the anger in his eyes and the fist he made. I had no time for this. Luckily for me, neither did his red-faced companion who put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back. I slivered past them and didn’t look behind.

The quicker I was out of the square the better.

About halfway through, I slipped past a group of men and women in yellow robes. They were guarded by three men in plate armour and half helms, with swords as long as my leg. An old woman, who held a straight back like that of a chieftain, was standing on a wooden crate and yelling at the drunken crowd. I didn’t speak the local tongue, but her eyebrows were knitted, and her lips were pursed, and she pointed vigorously with accusation at the gathering of people. The locals didn’t seem to care. For the most part, they ignored her entirely, except for the few who made mocking hand gestures of pleasuring one’s self.

I made it to the other end. A big cheer went up just as I was leaving which startled me. I looked back. A crowd had gathered around the drained fountain in the centre of the square. A local city boy had climbed up to the top of the statue that was a part of the fountains feature. The statue was of a soldier. Sword in one hand pointing to the sky, and a tankard in the other pressed to his lips. The boy stood on the soldier’s head and mimicked the statue’s pose. I had to admit, the resemblance was uncanny. It made me smirk a little.

I passed through the opposite alley, gingerly stepping over a snoring drunk who had seen fit to sleep in his own sick. Unsurprisingly, this was not the first time I had seen such a sight. It was common in the city of Wanniheim. As common as seeing a dog chase a cat, or a bird eat a worm.

out the other end of the alley was the high road. It was a lot less busy than the square, but a lot more dangerous for someone like me. With my head down, I prayed to Telafa that the guards on horseback wouldn’t spot me. They made their patrols coming from the Kings’ Bridge this time of night, and if they were to snoop among my things, there would certainly be problems.

I crossed the road as briskly as I dared, my knapsack jingled louder this time as I upped the pace, and slipped through another alleyway opposite.

When I came out of the other end, I had made it. Well, I had made it this far at least, the next step was in Caine’s hands.

I bit my lip and leaned against a wall.

Where is that Bacran?

“Jeb,” he said, seemingly appearing from nowhere.

It startled me, although I didn’t show it. Instead, I frowned, giving him a stern look.

“What’s the matter? Wasn’t so bad, was it?” My brother asked with a subtle grin.

I was in no mood and so I shoved him in the chest. “Next time, you can do the run.”

“You have it then?”

I nodded, taking the knapsack off my shoulder, kneeled, and opened it to reveal a rectangular package. It was concealed with brown paper and string. Caine took it from me and shook it. The clanging of metals inside was enough for him.

He looked at me and smiled. “Very good,” he said, spitting on the floor.

He passed me back the package and I put it in the knapsack and over my shoulder.

“You run any into trouble?” He asked. There was genuine concern in his voice.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” I said.

He nodded. “Well, then I suppose we’d best be off.”

I let out a nervous breath. “Let’s hope this goes well.”

“It will. As long as you do as I say.” He looked over his shoulder, and then back at me. “All these city folks care about is coin. If we have it, then we have a say in things.”

He wasn’t wrong, we both noted how important it was when we first came through the gates. The shiny circular things, small enough to fit in your pocket and about as useful as sand. The people of the city were mad for them. We couldn’t understand why, but we could care less provided they fed us well, which they promised to do.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Caine nodded and we set off to see the city men