E’nes managed to nod as Mar’sal
used a length of rope to tie him to his saddle. “We must remember to tell
Adesina about Jahan Lirit,” E’nes said in a voice that barely contained his
exhaustion. “We would not have made it through if not for him.”
Mar’sal finished securing E’nes and
moved to mount his own horse. “We will tell her. Now, please, rest yourself.”
E’nes gave a brief smile and closed
his eyes. Once they were a safe distance from the barricade they would stop for
the night. Then, in the morning they would ride on to Charan, the Gateway
City—the only source of hope for reinforcements in the fight against Cha-sak.
E’nes couldn’t help but stare.
He had been in cities before, but
nothing in Sehar or Pevothem could compare to the sheer size of Charan.
The city was built at the narrowest
point of the stretch of land bridging Sehar and Etan. The northern walls were
built into the mountain range and the southern walls touched the ocean. It was
impossible to go from the one nation to the other by land without going through
the Gateway City.
Charan was officially a city of
Etan, and the eastern walls lined the nation’s border. It had first been built
as a military base to keep enemies out of the newly formed country, but the
settlement had swelled over the centuries to become a vast metropolis.
The eastern wall had three large
gates, but two of them appeared to be barred shut. There were several guards
standing at the open gate, looking bored and restless. One of them spotted
E’nes and Mar’sal as they approached and nudged the one who looked to be the
leader.
The man wore the same uniform as
the others, but he had a short shoulder cape that set him apart from the
others. He had a thin moustache—as did the other soldiers—and dark hair that
was swept up in a mass of braids and coils that looked more elaborate than any
L’avan woman’s. His expression was continually disdainful, but a flicker of
surprise passed it as he saw the new arrivals.
“Well, well! It has been quite a
while since anyone has come to this city from Sehar. How did you get past the
barricade?”
The soldier spoke in the common
tongue, but his accent was strangely staccato, making it difficult to
understand him at first.
E’nes hurried to answer as soon as
he worked out what the soldier had said. “We snuck past at night, sir. We have
urgent business with the leader of this great city.”
The guard looked vastly amused. “Is
that so? Is Lord Governor Wakichonze expecting you?”
E’nes and Mar’sal exchanged
glances.
“No,” the former answered slowly,
“we are not expected.”
The soldier roared with laughter.
“Then what makes you think that he will see you?”
“We have very urgent business,”
repeated E’nes.
The guard’s features became exaggerated
with pity. He clearly didn’t think much of these
peasants
from Sehar.
“The Lord Governor is a very busy man. Even citizens of Etan must make an
appointment months in advance to see him. I doubt he will have time to see a
couple of foreigners.”
E’nes was aghast. They didn’t have
months to wait around and hope that the Lord Governor would agree to meet with
them. They needed help immediately or the Shimat would wear down the L’avan and
Seharan forces to nothing.
“May we enter the city?” asked
Mar’sal with determination.
All of the guards laughed in
derision. The leader shrugged, “You can if you wish, but you are wasting your
time.”
“Thank you for your advice,” said
Mar’sal, unfailingly polite. “Where can we find the Lord Governor?”
The soldier waved vaguely toward
the city. “All main roads lead to the Manor. It is at the center of Charan. All
city officials live and work there, so you can go there to make the
appointment. Ask for the Lord Secretary, and he will help you.”
The two L’avan thanked the soldier
again and then rode into the city. E’nes immediately found himself staring once
more. It was not only that the city covered a large area—all of the buildings
were so
tall
.
The eastern section of the city
seemed to house the local military. The barracks were four stories high,
looming over the two travelers as they rode past. They were soon in more
residential areas, but even those buildings were at least three stories tall.
Most of them appeared as though the upper levels had been added over time. It
seemed as though people were crowded everywhere, and Charan had no other option
but to start growing upward.
People stared at the two L’avan in
open curiosity as they rode down the street. All of the men—regardless of
whether they were dressed in finery or rags—had thin moustaches and long hair
that was pinned up elaborately. They all wore short pants that ballooned around
the thighs, thick stockings and slipper-like shoes, and loose shirts that were
overlaid with colorful vests. It appeared that the wealthier a man was, the
more embroidery and precious stones were sewn onto the clothing.
The women made the men’s appearance
seem conservative. Each woman’s hair was also pinned up, but the elaborate
styles also contained adornments like giant feathers and strings of pearls.
Their faces were painted white with bright red spots on the cheeks and lips.
Their dresses were a similar style to those worn in Sehar, but they wore
colorful petticoats underneath and pinned up one side of their skirts. As with
the men, the women displayed their wealth with embroidery and jewels on the
fabric.
The closer E’nes and Mar’sal got to
the center of Charan, the more richly adorned the clothing became. There were
also fewer people traveling on foot. Most of the people filling the inner
streets were being carried on palanquins.
E’nes wasn’t certain exactly how
long they had been riding through the streets of the Gateway City, but it
seemed to take much longer than it should have. He was beginning to worry that
they had somehow lost their way when the looming buildings on either side of
the street fell away to reveal an enormous open circle with a structure in the
center.
It was clearly the Manor that the
soldier had told them about, but it was unlike anything E’nes could have
expected.
It wasn’t a single building, but
several that were all interconnected by walkways. Each building was exquisite
and unique, displaying the great wealth of the city. Some were made of fine
marble. Some of the buildings were decorated with statues made of gold, others
with bejeweled fountains. Some had sweeping gardens filled with plants E’nes
had never seen before.
“Where do you suppose we are meant
to go?” asked Mar’sal in clear confusion.
E’nes shook his head, bewildered.
To be told simply to go to the Manor was about as helpful as being told to go
to the mountains without knowing
which
specific mountain to climb.
The two L’avan soldiers dismounted
their horses and walked toward one of the paths that circled the complex. They
slowed to a stop, looking around for some sort of sign to indicate where they
should go.
A young woman slowed to a stop and
studied them intently. She had vivid red hair that was set off by a large
golden sunburst pinned to the back of her head. Her face was painted white and
had the popular red spots on the cheeks and the red lips. The paint made it
hard to see her features properly. Even so, she seemed rather pretty and very
much self-confident. Her dress was made of golden damask, and the bodice was
crowded with topaz and pearls.
She simpered at them, smiling. “Are
you…gentlemen…lost?”
E’nes gave his most polished bow
and Mar’sal did the same.
“Yes, m’lady. We were told to go to
the Manor, but we were not given more specific instructions.”
The young woman tittered and batted
her eyelashes. “How amusing! Well, it is fortunate for you that I was on my
morning walk. If I had been going somewhere specific, my slaves would have run
past you with my palanquin on their shoulders. I doubt anyone else would be kind
enough to stop and help you. I am noted for my kindness and my benevolence.”
E’nes was almost at a loss for
words. He stammered a reply: “Yes, m’lady, I can see that.”
The young woman giggled again,
eyeing the two L’avan flirtatiously. “I have never seen men such as you.
Perhaps you would like to become my personal servants.”
She did not make it sound like a
request, and that made E’nes feel distinctly uneasy.
Mar’sal responded politely, “Thank
you for your offer, m’lady, but we are not free to accept it. We serve
another.”
The young woman formed her
red-painted lips into a pout. “I doubt your current master or mistress could be
as generous as me. My father holds great power in Charan, and he gives me
whatever I desire.”
“We serve the king of the L’avan,”
explained E’nes.
The young woman’s eyes widened in
surprise. “A king? There are not many monarchies left in existence. You must
have traveled far to come to our lovely city. Where is L’avan? I have never
heard of that country.”
Mar’sal hid a smile. “It is not a
country, m’lady, it is a race of people. We hail from a land called Pevothem,
in the northern section of Sehar.”
Her blue eyes narrowed in doubt.
“Sehar has no government. It is a land of savages.”
Mar’sal did not argue with her,
but his polite expression became strained. “Well, we are not part of Sehar. Our
land is separate, to the north of the country. Our people have been there since
before the rule of the first king of Sehar.”
The young woman’s expression
cleared and her interest returned. “Fascinating. It must be a small nation, and
Sehar was once quite powerful. How have you maintained your independence for so
long?”
E’nes and Mar’sal exchanged
glances. They had previously discussed how much information they should give
about the L’avan. In years past the L’avan had remained hidden from the world,
but Adesina and L’iam firmly believed it was time to join the rest of the
nations—openly and honestly.
“We have mostly kept to ourselves
in the past,” began E’nes. “Also…we are a race of magic-users.”
The young woman laughed freely.
“Oh, you are so amusing!”
E’nes smiled as well. “Would you
like me to show you?”
“Please, do,” answered the young
woman, her face full of disbelief.
She was holding a golden fan, and
E’nes gestured to it. “May I borrow that?”
She handed it over sportingly. “No
stealing it, now,” she warned in a teasing voice. “It is my favorite fan.”
E’nes smiled. “I will be careful
with it,” he assured her.
He called forth his
vyala
and his vision glowed orange. He used the force of his power to cause the fan
to hover in the air above their heads, then moved it in a wandering pattern to
show that it was not attached to any strings.
The young woman’s eyes were wide
with awe as the fan settled back into her hands. “How did you do that?”
“Magic,” was E’nes’s simple reply.
“What else can you do?” she asked
eagerly.
“It depends on the person. Each
L’avan has one or two gifts, and they all vary,” explained Mar’sal.
“You must meet my father
immediately,” insisted the young woman.
“Who is your father?” inquired
E’nes.
She looked at them as if they were
daft. “Do you not know who I am?”
The two L’avan soldiers slowly
shook their heads.
The young woman looked slightly
offended. “I am Umarina, the daughter of Lord Governor Wakichonze.”
E’nes started to introduce himself,
but Umarina cut off his words with an impatient wave of her hand.
“I shall overlook your ignorance,
since you are foreigners. I am known for my forgiving heart, you know. Still, I
must take you to see my father at once. Place me on one of your horses and take
me to the Manor.”
Mar’sal looked just as baffled as
E’nes felt.
“I beg your pardon?”
Umarina gave a condescending smile.
“It is not proper for me to walk if I have something specific to do. I only
walk when I take my daily exercise.”
“Do you expect to ride one of our
horses all the way to your father’s chambers?” asked Mar’sal.
Umarina tittered in her simpering
way. “Of course not, you simple man. Once we reach the entrance I can summon my
slaves and my palanquin.”
E’nes found that the easiest way to
avoid replying with something sarcastic—something he would later regret—was to
turn his attention to getting the young woman onto his horse. She refused to
climb into the saddle, instead expecting him to simply place her there.
In a burst of impatience, E’nes
used his
vyala
to hoist her onto the horse’s back—and not very gently.
Umarina couldn’t contain a startled
yelp as an unseen force took hold of her and lurched her into the saddle. She
looked thoroughly embarrassed at her outburst and busied about straightening
her golden skirt.
When they started walking she
pointed to the building at the center of the massive structure. It had the most
humble appearance of the buildings—if
humble
could be used to describe
any of them. It was made of pale grey granite and its tall wooden doors were
elaborately carved, depicting scenes that E’nes guessed were important to
Etan’s history.
The guards at the doors immediately
recognized Umarina and hurried to allow her entrance. Two footmen rushed up to
the horses and lifted Umarina from the saddle, setting her gently on the
ground. Then, as if they had been anticipating her arrival, her slaves arrived
to lift her onto her palanquin.
“Take care of these horses,” she
commanded carelessly, gesturing to the guards.
The guards bowed and took the reins
from the hands of E’nes and Mar’sal. The L’avan soldiers followed the palanquin
as it started to move, uncertain what else they could do.
Umarina waved a hand at one of the
footmen. “Announce my imminent arrival to the Lord Governor. I have brought him
a magnificent gift.”
E’nes looked at Mar’sal and saw his
own worried expression reflected back at him. This was sounding more and more
like an unpleasant and potentially dangerous situation.