“That’s it,” Lerran repeated, as Ash carried him onward with a sickly pace. “That’s not a mirage or a delusion. That’s Lo Mallago.”
They were descending the highland of the Barren Road toward the coastal city of Lo Mallago, after fifteen days, three whole weeks, on the road. Lerran had finished drinking all of his rum and most of their water, leading to a few joking comments from Kolt and Paksis, while the other guards were content to smile at his agony. He tried to put on a tough game, but while he could handle himself in a fight, surviving dry climes had never been an area in which he’d accustomed himself. He wiped his brow, the irritated skin crying out at his bothering, and they travelled their final day into the city his father had possessed.
Though the Worker’s Rise that defined the cityscape of Sheld had been quietly reopened as Soldier’s Rise to house Antha and the City Watch, it remained the first immediately visible landmark of the city to newcomers. Worker’s Rise sat close to the top of the sloping cliffs and ridges of the rocky city, casting its shadow over one half of the city except when the sun was directly overhead. Lo Mallago had no defining palace or civic structure, and it reminded Lerran of Kedar in that way—there were hundreds of structures with notable size or interesting architecture, none was clearly the government building.
Of course, Kedar was a cesspit of humidity, foliage, and dangerous bugs, while Lo Mallago shared the Barren Road’s horrid heat and scorching sun. The buildings were built out of beige sandstone or light soft wood from the jungle north of them, unlike Sheld’s—or Kedar’s—bold grey stonework. Though rain fell on Lo Mallago, as frequently as anywhere along the coast of the Grey Sea, warranting colourful shingles be used to roof the two- and three-storey buildings, the arid earth swallowed it up as soon as it fell from the eaves.
The city was surrounded by a proper wall, and the mercenaries his father had once hired had entered through its various gates as unassuming travellers. Lerran and his comrades entered the aptly named Dry Gate, to which the Barren Road led. It was guarded by five men in loose linen robes with long spears in their hands and short swords at their waists. “Welcome. Business?” one asked.
“Just passing through,” Lerran said. “We’ll be staying at an inn, and leaving soon.”
“Very good, sir,” the guard said, and let them through.
Lerran had been to Lo Mallago once, when he was a younger man, long before the revolution in 1476, but he quickly learned the city had changed. When he had visited it with his father and his father’s guards, they had avoided Ogona Way for its dangers and lowlife. Lerran led the way along the dusty street and found it busy with markets and businesses now. He realized it quickly enough: the Rebel King had reversed Lo Mallago, giving wealth and attention to those previously without it and stealing it from the upper class in the gilded streets of High Manto.
Kolt noticed Lerran’s choice of direction. “Ogona Way, sir? Won’t the Rebel King be expecting us in Midtown?”
“He will,” Lerran said, and this time bypassed the centre of town for High Manto. As he suspected the streets were nearly abandoned and the businesses were half boarded up. It took them a while to find an inn with open doors, and even then it was mostly empty. The innkeeper was a gaunt looking man with a scar on his forehead and the onyx skin of someone from the Elder Coast.
“Welcome to the Old Glory,” muttered the man sullenly. “We don’t serve supper anymore, but we can give you rooms or drinks.”
Lerran shrugged. “We can find our own meals, right Paksis?”
“If we must,” she said, looking at him with an irritated scowl. The innkeeper started at the sight of her teeth and she threw one hand up in exasperation to pace away from him.
“We’ll take three rooms, one with bunks for these louts,” Lerran said. Now Kolt turned away frustrated too. Lerran was trying to ensure that their arrival in Lo Mallago went unnoticed to anyone of import, until he could get his bearings and an impression of the circumstances under the Rebel King’s rule. “I’ll pay for each night in advance, I’m not sure how long I can afford.”
“We’ll come to an arrangement,” the innkeeper agreed with a greedy smile. Of course, Lerran wouldn’t have any trouble covering the expenses of three rooms in an inn this hard on its luck. They’d probably wait a week before contacting Borik.