“And what of Jadden?” Raya asked. Benn and she sat at a table with three men who had attended the funeral of King Rull.
“Captured once more,” one grimaced. “Along with the other two hundred citizens freshly enslaved.”
Raya shook her head. They had received the news yesterday, for their visit to Axar’s estate had filled conversation for the remainder of that day. But when Raya had woken up in the Freeman’s Bunkhouse, she’d heard the sorrows immediately. Jadden and his rebels had set explosives beneath the Bridge of Norzeen to detonate it when the funeral procession had crossed. No more of the Mage Kings had perished, though many guards and slaves had.
The Kings had taken many new slaves that day in retaliation. The Norzeen district was almost a ghost town now, according to the rumours.
So Jadden was a slave once more, or dead. It saddened Raya to think it. She leaned close to Benn and whispered, “Just as Axar said.”
Benn nodded.
Raya thanked the inn patrons for their answers and led Benn out into the crowded street. They were on the other side of Massed Alley from their Bunkhouse. This district of the great Ith was becoming more and more crowded; it’s taverns and alleys were overflowing with refugees, some from the very same city not beyond the borders of Ith’s hills.
Sweaty and tired, Raya and her friend walked through the throngs of people. It had been days since Raya had bathed. The North Fork river was full, constantly, of crowds of swimmers and bathers, and downstream, sewage. It was nothing like the ponds and streams in the hills around Olston where Raya could find privacy to wash herself clean.
After crossing a rooftop plaza and descending into a narrow, winding street, Raya and Benn climbed the steps toward their sleeping place once more, only to find Dondar and a warrior in a silver robe with a dark sword at his waist awaiting their return.
“I come from Master Axar, mistress Raya,” the man intoned, with one fist over his heart. “He has arranged a place for you, as he promised. My name is Ailo and I am to be your guard and servant. Will you and your friends accompany me?”
“Very well,” Raya said, warily. Dondar held out his hand and the newcomer bowed before leading the way. The three friends carried their packs, which Dondar had collected, through the crowded streets at Ailo’s back. The man walked with the gait of a skilled warrior, only Raya matched his grace with her silent hunter’s pace.
They were taken out of Massed Alley, thank the gods, and into the Low Dales. They did not go to Axar’s house, but into one of the small neighbourhoods. Raya smiled when she saw the quaint houses and the wall murals of bird or deer faces. She felt goosebumps. It looked like a street in Olston and she was struck by a wave of nostalgia. Ailo looked back and smiled. “It is known as Fork Crossing, mistress. Those bridges there cross the river. There are blankets hanging for privacy.”
Raya smiled. “It’s very quaint.”
“And here, a house for your friends and yourself.” The place he waved his hand before was a one storey building, but was larger than Raya’s house back home. The walls were made of wooden shingles and the roof of fresh thatching. Through the open window on the building’s façade, she could see a small dining room, dimly lit from a flickering light source out of view. A sign over the door read Creek Stead.
“There will be no servants, but I will also live here as your guard and servant,” Ailo said, bowing. His expression was pleasant and his motions open. “Do not worry, mistress, I will not spy on you or harm you. In the days ahead, Master Axar will summon you to visit him to discuss the struggle ahead. Now, may I show you around your new home?”
Raya knew this was all an attempt at manipulation, a gift to win her favour with Axar, but she gave Ailo a polite smile and followed him inside. Benn marvelled at their new home and was the first to choose a bedroom for himself.