“Behold,” Suvau announced two days later, “Fort Omra and the wall of the south.”

The six travellers stood on the cusp of the rise that signalled the descent into the valley floor that would eventually lead them to the base of the fort and the wall.

Suvau’s declaration warranted a pause to stare and marvel.

“That’s one big wall!” Verne admitted.

“That’s one impressive fort!” Judd exclaimed.

“That is very close to Maul…” Aalis whispered.

Fort Omra was built in the corner where the wall met the south-eastern mountain range. Unlike the ‘Hump’ which was smaller and very rarely capped with snow because of the warmer climates in the north, the southern mountain range could be traced as far north as the end of Fort Bastil’s territory with its foothills, climbing steadily higher and higher, reaching their pinnacle near Fort Omra before plummeting in size, taking up almost half of the eastern line of the continent.

The fort was built upon a plateau that was nearly as high as the wall and despite its already imposing height, had its own towers, walls and parapets as well as a belltower that could be heard ringing from as far away as the travellers were. The plateau’s side, which was almost a sheer drop, was a mottled combination of yellow, white and grey rock. And yet, despite the hardness of the ground, it seemed to be bursting with bright green bushes and trees, hanging greenery and draping foliage. The city of Fort Omra, not content to just be sprawled across the landscape, had climbed part of the way up the wall with three and four storey buildings, towers built against the cliff face, a winding path leading from the village to the main entrance of the fort.

“That’s one heck of a climb…” Judd said, feeling weary at the thought of it.

“The fort or the wall?” Verne asked. “I mean…I knew it was big…”

The wall of the south which kept Maul separated from Terra, was a fearsome sight. At its lowest point it was said to be an impassable thirty feet high but along some stretches of its march across the land the wall had been measured at a staggering fifty feet. Verne felt a degree of apprehension about the wall and the way buildings were built against it.

“I’d never shake the feeling that it was just waiting to fall on me.” He muttered.

“Those are the stables and the barracks for the soldiers who rotate between fort and ground duty.” Suvau explained.

“Why would the soldiers be on the ground?”

“If they can’t climb over the wall, some monsters tunnel beneath.” Suvau pointed to a pillar made up of stones stacked tightly on top of each other. “Those are markers to let us know where monsters have come out before.”

“There…are a few of those…” Judd admitted.

“And Sir Fereak would reassure us that they have all been stopped.”

“Which his cleric would have attested to.” Caste said without any doubt.

“After Clariet, my absolute faith in the officers of the Order of the Grail has been somewhat shaken…” Judd admitted, missing Caste’s conflicted expression. Suvau led them down the rise which was one of many, as though the decline to the wall was made out of giant steps. Some of the steps were shallow and easy enough to jump down and others were rather deep. Thankfully there were several paths they could take which divided the steps into large portions and each one was dedicated to a harvest of some kind. “It’s strange, this close to the wall…I didn’t think there would be open farmland.”

“How else would everyone eat?”

“What did you think the land this close to the wall would look like?” Aalis asked quietly.

“Nothing like this.” Judd shrugged, leading Zeke down a gentle slope, winding their way steadily closer to the city’s entrance. There was a wall around the portion of the city that was on ground level and while it was nothing to be sneered at, compared to the wall of the south, it looked rather lame. The city had a moat which followed the outside of the city wall, a drawbridge spanning its width. When the gates were shut, entry to the city would be impossible for the moat looked deep and the wall was sheer. However, the moat encouraged a great deal of bushes and shrubs to grow, making the exterior of the city picturesque. “At the Festival of Maul, there are always tales of the tainted earth, scarred land and cracks big enough to swallow whole armies. Along with the raging fires of the mount that never sleeps…I guess I thought it would be barren and filled with the molten lava of Maul.”

“I’m with Judd,” Giordi nodded, “this is almost northern Terra-scape.”

“Except for the stone pillars…and giant wall…” Verne reminded him.

“And see that patch of scalded land?” Suvau pointed to a blackened stretch around what appeared to be a newer pillar. “A Cerberus dug its way under the wall and emerged there not a month ago. Sir Fereak and his soldiers had to kill it then scorched the whole field in order to burn its corpse.”

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“That was only a month ago?”

Suvau nodded. “We need to make haste,” he warned, “here, when the gates to the city close, they open for no one.”

“Caste!” Judd barked. “Move your feet!”

They hurried down the steps, dodging fields of wheat and corn, of beans and tomatoes, of potatoes, carrots, pumpkins and wound their way through orchards filled to bursting with fruit and vegetables.

“Suvau?” They stopped to see a dark skinned man with a basket on his back looking at him in astonishment. “I thought it was you!”

“Ersha!” Suvau clasped his arm. “How is Sheal?”

“Getting bigger every day. Feet are aching. I sent her home early so I’m just picking her quota. She doesn’t need the tallyman on her back as well as the baby on her front.”

“I wondered why you were out so late and so far from the stables.”

Ersha eyed Suvau’s companions. “You know you’re travelling with Terras?”

“I am.” Suvau chuckled. “They saved my life in Quarre.”

“Yolana was right to be worried about you.” Ersha shook his head. “She’ll be glad you’re back.”

“Judd,” Suvau motioned for him to come forward, “this is Ersha. Ersha, this is Judd LaMogre.”

“Er…hello.” Judd said, offering his hand. Ersha’s expression was a mix of amusement and surprise by the offer.

“Judd,” Suvau gestured to the horses, “I have no way of stabling Quell and Zeke in Omra. Ersha, when not picking apples, works in the stables where the horses are housed for pulling ploughs and helping with the harvest.”

“You’re thinking they could stay there?” Judd asked, turning to Ersha. “Would that be alright?”

“You only need to command it.” Ersha said in a resigned tone.

“I’d rather ask.” Judd insisted. “They’re good horses and I’d like to know they’re well taken care of but only if we’re not making difficulties for you.”

Ersha sent Suvau a confused glance. Suvau laughed, slapping him on the shoulder. Judd saw Ersha wince and was relieved that it wasn’t just his white skin that made him vulnerable to Suvau’s strength.

“I am sure I could find them a stall to share and if they’re able to help with the harvest, they’ll more than earn their keep.”

“Fantastic.” Judd nodded then turned to everyone else. “We’re going to need to carry our own packs for this last stretch!”

“I’m more than happy to lend my wagon and my strength.” Suvau added, shaking Ersha’s hand. They hastened to make the transition as quick as possible, Quell and Zeke munching happily on apples the last they saw them. “Ersha will take good care of your mounts. He almost prefers horses to humans.”

“Is that why he was so surprised I didn’t just order him about?” Judd checked the straps on the wagon to make sure everything was secure.

“One day in Fort Omra should answer all your questions better than I could.”

As they travelled closer and closer to the city wall, the wall of the south looming over them casting a cold shadow, they saw more workers gathering up their baskets and loads, hastening towards the city gates. Judd could sense their urgency and went to put speed in his stride.

“Judd,” Verne grasped his arm, “Caste is falling further and further behind.”

Judd looked back and groaned, seeing Caste struggling beneath the weight of his pack. “Why didn’t he put it on the wagon?”

“He’s got a thing about Suvau, if you hadn’t noticed.” Verne swallowed. “To be honest, it’s taken me some time to not jump every time he walks behind me and I was raised wild, barefoot and with barely any ethics. Caste’s racism is deeply ingrained. It would take a miracle to dig it out.”

Judd sighed and nodded. “I’ll help him.” He jogged back to where Caste was wrestling with a gate, trying to get through it, his pack caught on the latch. “Caste!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Caste grunted and pulled. Before Judd could reach him or even call out a warning, he tugged too hard and his pack ripped, books and paraphernalia tumbling out. “No!”

“Just great…” Judd whistled for Verne’s attention who called their convoy to a halt. “Let’s get this packed up and on the wagon.”

“No.”

“Caste, I don’t have time to argue with you.”

“Then go on without me.” Caste collected his belongings together.

“Look at the sun!” Judd snapped. “Caste, it’s setting! When the gates close, they’re closed and monsters are a regular occurrence around here.”

“I just need to balance…” The books tumbled down again.

A warning bell rang out and the fields emptied of workers, people pushing past them, hurrying towards the fort. Judd was on the verge of erupting into a furious rage when Suvau strode to them, his long leg length making short work of the distance between them. Without asking for permission, he simply started heaving the books onto his wagon. Caste frenzied into an indignant state, snatching books back and stammering protestations which Suvau simply ignored by putting one hand out towards Caste. Even if Caste had pressed close enough for Suvau to touch him, he still wouldn’t have been able to reach the wagon. Judd cringed at the display as Caste snarled several unpleasantries, a racial hatred exterior covering a great deal of fear.

“You are not fit to be handling these tomes! Put them down at once!”

Judd said nothing, picking up Caste’s torn pack as the cleric dashed after Suvau, grabbing books off the wagon but unable to carry them all, dropping several in his haste. Judd waved the others on as he tried to help Caste as much as the cleric would let him. The others became one with the steady stream of dark skinned workers carrying baskets and crates and crossed the moat via the drawbridge. Suvau and the others paused before passing through the gates and looked back at them as the guards called out a final warning that the gates would be closed soon.

“Caste, I swear…”

“I’m trying!”

Judd looked up in dismay to see the gates beginning to close, the bridge starting to rise at the same time. He caught Suvau’s expression and shrugged helplessly. He couldn’t leave Caste outside so it seemed as though he and the cleric would be sleeping outdoors, unprotected in a very dangerous part of Terra. Judd motioned for Suvau to take the others in. Suvau did…then beautifully upended his wagon right in the middle of the turning circle of the gates, stopping the bridge. The guards abused and shouted angrily as Suvau apologised, righting his wagon and putting everything back on it as slowly as he dared.

Judd grabbed Caste by the scruff and, with armfuls of books, made it to the drawbridge which was two feet off the ground. He grasped the chains and heaved himself onto the bridge, turning and grasping Caste’s hand, hauling him up. They half slid down the bridge, Caste scrambling to collect his books and made it to the gates where they were berated by the gate guards who were as light skinned as any who lived in Astaril.

“Had you been a minute later, you would have been on the wrong side of the gates. Enter and abide by the law of Sir Fereak…and don’t be late next time.”

“Yes sir. Sorry sir.”