The City of Towers

CHAPTER 4

They must have walked half a mile before they found the lift. Now they were slowly dropping toward the bottom of Sharn on a large disk of floating metal. Daine tried to ignore the fact that the only thing standing between him and a drop of two thousand feet was a thin, invisible field of arcane energy. Pierce was carrying Lei cradled in his arms. She had finally fallen asleep. Daine stood at the center of the disk, talking quietly to Jode.

“How do we even know this is real? What if that whetstone of a warforged was playing some sort of a joke?”

Jode shook his tiny head. “It’s just not something you joke about, captain. Especially a warforged, doubly so a servant in the house of the lord she’s to be married to. That ’forged belongs to the household, and if the lord wanted to melt him down, he could.”

“What about Hadran, then? Could he have put the ’forged up to it? Or condemned Lei to get out of the marriage? They haven’t seen each other for years, right?”

“No, it still doesn’t make sense. Lei’s family died with Cyre. If Hadran wants out, who’s going to challenge him? Besides, there are established grounds for excoriation. You know that as well as I do. It’s not something you do on a whim, lord or no lord.”

Daine sighed. “Meanwhile, we’re high and dry. So much for Lord Hadran’s fabled generosity. And if Sharn is anything like Metrol, I imagine the guards won’t like us setting up camp on the street corner.”

Jode smiled. “Leave it to me, Captain. Have I ever let you down?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just ask me that.”

Once a residential district, High Walls had been converted to serve as a prison-a fortified ghetto for those deemed a security risk to Breland and Sharn. Now that the war was coming to a close, the gates were open and the portcullises were raised, but the guards remained, and black-cloaked archers walked the walls that gave the region its name. Beyond the gates, the district was a dismal sight. Walls were cracked, windows broken, cobblestones had even been lifted from the streets. The few people who were still about were filthy folk in torn and soiled clothes, watching from alleys or peering out of shattered windows.

“Well, it looks like there aren’t any guards to keep us from sleeping in the street, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” Jode said. “Seems to me like our friend Morgalan would be right at home here.”

“What exactly are we looking for here?” asked Daine.

“I’ll know it when I see it.” A few moments later Jode held up a hand, motioning them to stop. “This’ll do.”

A rather melancholy manticore was painted on the sign above the door, and not with any particular skill. In one corner was the horn of the hostel along with a small Star of Cyre. “Well, it looks like Cyrans are welcome,” said Daine, “but we still have one problem-the complete absence of coin.”

“Trust me.” Jode threw open the door and strode inside as if he owned the place. Daine followed, while Pierce set Lei’s feet on the ground and gently shook her awake.

The interior of the Manticore Inn was as uninspiring as the façade. The sullen people sitting around the common room studied the travelers suspiciously. Here and there Daine did see the tell-tale look of Cyre in some of the faces-a narrow chin, hazel eyes ringed with brown-but if Jode was banking on an outpouring of love, he was sorely mistaken.

To Daine’s surprise, Jode called out loudly in the tongue of the Talenta Plains, and a moment later the innkeeper appeared. She was a stout halfling with streaks of gray in her brown hair, and she returned Jode’s query in the same tongue. An animated discussion followed, as Jode indicated each traveler in turn and went through a bizarre series of pantomimed actions. Even the other patrons took an interest, leaning forward to watch the antics of this seemingly mad halfling. The innkeeper seemed dubious, but eventually she nodded, and Jode embraced her. Pushing him away, she went back to the kitchen.

“I’ve got us a few days of credit,” Jode whispered. “Now whatever she says, just nod.”

A moment later, the innkeeper returned with a set of keys and led them upstairs. The keys seemed almost unnecessary, as most of the doors were on the verge of falling off of their hinges. She opened the door and the end of the hall.

“I know it’s not what you’re used to, General,” she said. “But hopefully it will suffice until your letters of credit are cleared by the bank.”

Daine glanced over at Jode. General? “We’ve been in the field for many days, lady. Your generosity is appreciated.” He knelt to kiss her hand, and she looked away and blushed.

“Oh, not at all, General. To think, one of the Queen’s trusted advisors in my humble inn. And after you risked so much to save those Talentan orphans. Truly, a few days is the least I can do.” She smiled again. “Breakfast is served at the eighth bell. I look forward to hearing more tales of your valor in battle.”

“Of course, of course,” Jode said. “But at the moment, the general needs his rest.”

Once upon a time, the room might have had a cold fire lamp. It might have included a bed. But furniture had been stripped away, leaving only a pair of mildewed pallets set against the floor. There was a single oil lamp, and spiders scattered into the shadows when Jode managed to get it lit. Daine had seen prison cells with more ambiance. He sighed. “All right, Jode. General?”

Jode shrugged. “Dassi likes war stories. I trust you can spin a few. She seemed especially interested in your efforts to help halfling children escape Cyre in the last days of the war, despite great personal risk and constant attack by the undead warriors of Karrnath.”

Daine shook his head, smiling. “And what did this buy us?”

“Well, she likes stories, but she still drives a hard bargain. She’s extending credit for five days, at which point she expects to be paid in full and then some. Luckily for us, her prices are quite reasonable.”

“Hardly surprising, considering the luxurious accommodations.”

“This from a man who woke up in a muddy ditch?”

“Fair enough. Any thoughts on how we’re going to pay her?”

“A few. I’ll get the lay of the land in the morning, Captain. For now, I think that rest is called for.”

Daine nodded. “Yes, you’re right. You and Lei take the … beds. Compared to my nice ditch, the floor will be fine.”

Pierce helped Lei to the pallet, then got their blankets out of her pack. Within moments, Lei and Jode were fast asleep. Pierce drew his long flail and turned to face the door, preparing for the night’s watch. Daine turned down the lamp. He lay in the darkness for what seemed like an eternity. Occasionally there was a shout or a cry from the street or movement outside the door. At such times, Daine found his hand was resting on the hilt of his sword before he’d even thought about it.

But eventually, he found his way to sleep.