Farek 89

“I still can’t believe it…” Diaren murmured as their rowboat neared the docks.  Though the North Fork was still wide, Ith’s river access was as bustling as any ocean port Farek had seen.  Lord Gallendris sat in the rowboat with his guard friends, staring up at the towering stone walls of Ith.  He had read about them, but he was nearly as stunned as Diaren—the late Mage Kings had raised slabs out of the earth taller than any castle Farek had seen before.  Whatever the city looked like inside, it was concealed from their river vantage.

Farek managed to look away for a moment, glancing at the rowboat behind them.  Enora Roek sat in that vessel, along with Ambassador Tolia and both their respective guards and attendants.  Her soft brown hair was bound behind her head as she worked diligently on a parchment; she was recording some adjustments for her maps as she surveyed the expansive river district that spanned from the Fork to the first stone wall of Ith.

Behind Enora’s vessel was Lord Sha’s boat, which also carried some of the crew of the Sea’s Sword.  The swift vessel was partially blocked by another river cog, anchored a mile down the river from the first docks.

“It keeps going over there,” Ayvim said, pointing east.  They had passed the crest of a farm-dotted hill.  Farek followed Ayvim’s hand past the first stone wall of Ith.  Sure enough, the afternoon sun cast a reddish glow on a distant stone slab, rising over the grassy hills many miles distant.

“The largest city in the world,” Farek reminded them.  His reading had not prepared him for the sheer scale of Ith.

In the harbour, they realized that most of the neighbourhoods outside the stone walls were slums.  Three avenues paved with cobblestones ran from the expansive waterfront to the single city gate like the head of a trident.  As the delegates from Var Nordos neared the stone wall, it seemed to loom even higher overhead.  Then Farek realized how thick it was—the gate itself was more like a tunnel than anything else.   Likely, three or four wagons could line up to enter the city, all in the torchlit darkness of the long portal.

Farek eyed the guards they passed to assess them.  In Soros, they had heard about the assassinations of the Mage Kings and the year-long civil strife in the city.  Now, supposedly, the City Watch ruled the city with martial law.  According to all the accounts Farek and his peers had collected on the journey to Ith, even the military rule was a relief to citizens that had lived for decades under the oppressive hands of the Mage Kings.  To Farek, these guards looked little different from any guards he had seen before; they wore bronze plates amid their leather armour and carried short spears or broadswords.

They emerged from the tunnel into a commerce district.  Multi-storey shops and townhouses disrupted a proper impression of the size of this city borough; the only thing visible over the rooftops was the next of Ith’s enormous walls.  Farek had to assume even the city districts were divided by enormous walls, for the nearest was far closer than the one they had seen to the east earlier.

A wide wagon laden with crates of silver ingots trundled past, guarded by nearly twenty private guards.  Farek and his party moved aside to allow them entrance.

“Which district is this?” Lord Sha asked Enora.

She smiled.  “This is the Norzeen District, one of the oldest parts of Ith.  We want to head north.  If we’re planning to meet with the Advisory first, we’ll find their headquarters in Pranan’s Hill.  The Crimson Highway fort would be further north, on the far side of the Tempera District.”

“Thank you,” Farek said, and took the lead.

They hadn’t even left the Norzeen District when a commotion distracted them.  A man dashed past, nearly getting an instinctive attack from Ralla as he knocked her aside.  It was fortunate that she did not retaliate, for another man ran by with three City Watchmen on his heels.  When the first man hesitated at a fork in the road ahead, one of the guards leapt forward and plunged his spear into the man’s hamstring.  A shriek echoed down the street, cutting short the hubbub of conversation and trade.  The crowds of city-folk parted and the other running man stumbled away from his pinned comrade, looking horrified.  He was quickly apprehended by the other two guards, while the third soldier finished off his injured captive with a quick jab to the torso.

Farek’s men looked to him for direction, but they kept their weapons sheathed.  Farek was surprised by the kill, but decided only to watch what the City Watch would do with their apparent criminals—one dead and one alive.  They picked both up and hauled them down a side street.

Farek and his group followed, along with many in the crowd.  Farek heard mutterings of “they caught more?” and “another day, another dead….”  The citizens didn’t seem pleased, but they weren’t particularly alarmed.  The three guards and their human burdens soon joined with another group—others in their troop apparently.  Among the larger group there were now three prisoners—and the corpse of the man slain by the spearman.

In a city square down the next street, the guards approached a large scaffold.  The dead man was brought away, but the other prisoners were brought up onto the wooden platform.  A sergeant guard unfurled a scroll and read its words to the crowd.  “These criminals have been apprehended as part of the ongoing investigation into Domeran’s gang. Their crimes are thieving, vandalism, and murder. By the judgement of the Advisory, they are sentenced to death.”

Two of the prisoners protested that they had never committed murder, but they were swiftly executed by the City Watchmen.  It was not drawn out or painful; efficient sword jabs did all the work required.

“What’s Domeran’s gang?” Farek asked a nearby merchant.

“Domeran?” the woman asked.  “He died last year—the first big win for the City Watch.  His gang, at no encouragement from peace-seeking townsfolk, continues to fight the guards by twilight and back alleys.”

Farek raised an eyebrow.  Seeing the size of the city, a group of four criminals seemed like a vain effort at anything, even destabilization.  “What are they fighting for?  Just for control of the city?”

Another man, leaning against a wall behind the merchant, shrugged.  “They’re fighting because they hate the guards.  Always have, always will.  But this city isn’t ever going to be as lawless as they’d like.”

“I guess they have a new leader…” Farek muttered.  He couldn’t imagine them continuing to risk their lives for the sake of stirring up chaos without any endgame in mind.

“Indeed,” said the merchant, before turning away from the scaffolding and heading back down another street.  The man against the wall only shrugged again.  No one knew who was leading the gang then—at least, not anymore.  Farek wondered if the scroll gave the guards blanket permission to kill whomever they chose… though it didn’t seem likely that the public would approve of the Advisory’s rule in such a fashion if the guards were that abusive of the law.

Soon enough, Farek and his guards continued walking north.  They passed out of the Norzeen District by one of a dozen tunnels through the grand walls, and finally saw the region of Pranan’s Hill.  Here, the most common home was four-storeys.  Towers and miniature palaces dotted the rising slope of the district.

They stopped a couple times to look at specific public buildings or inns.  Many of these places were even fancier than the inns where Farek had stayed before.  Perhaps if it had been a personal trip, he might stay there.  But with their large party and limited resources, there was no reason to splurge on something like that.  Besides, Farek thought, we’re not sure how long we’ll stay…

After a while, Farek led them into the Tempera District which shared the Norzeen District’s quality and was situated in proximity to both the Crimson Highway and the City Watch’s headquarters.  Here they found an inn named Ralin’s Stay.  The old man after whom the inn had been named showed them simple, yet comfortable quarters and offered them an entire corridor of rooms for a reasonable weekly rate.  The next order of business was to schedule a meeting with the Advisory, who were not yet aware of the foreign lords and ladies in their midst.

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