The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm) (41 page)

Thousands of people bustled both inside and outside the city, and Vaun thought surely he’d never seen so many people in one place. Over them all, the palaces and estates and smaller buildings of the great city of Mahal towered like giants, daunting them and yet also welcoming them to itself. The sun was setting almost directly behind the city, causing the gold domes and spires to glitter brightly. According to Thorne, this repeated act led to the belief, or at least the claim by Mahalians, that the sun rested in Mahal at night, and was released only through the good graces of the citizens. For this reason, Mahal had earned the name City of the Setting Sun. The rebuttal to this prideful assumption was that, after the sun had entered Mahal, darkness covered the earth, letting evil come forth into the world. Thus, Mahal was also called City of Nightmares.

Not only was Mahal the most beautiful city in the west, rivaling even Tarquon in the southeast, it was also the most corrupt place known to man. Thieves, liars, beggars, cheats, swindlers, assassins, and gamblers walked the streets with merchants and politicians, priests and nobles. No one could agree which group was more corrupt, but everyone did say that no Mahal could be trusted. Merdel scoffed repeatedly at this prejudice, though he did acknowledge it contained some partial truth. Thorne said Merdel was the only exception.

Merdel had told Vaun during last night’s watch that he hated having to return to the city of his birth, for he’d left the last time under somewhat difficult circumstances and with a vow never to return. But he knew he must return if they wanted to succeed. Now the wizard pulled his hood well forward as he went with Drath to reserve places for the party on the next available ferry.

The next available ferry turned out to be two hours later, which gave the companions time to rest and stretch their legs after riding for so long. Vaun even stepped apart from the crowds to exercise his muscles and hone his techniques. He quickly attracted an astonished group of onlookers, who marveled at the grace and skill displayed by such a young man. The Song pushed their intruding voices away, though not enough for him to miss repeated mutterings of Ramen swordsmen, Vaulkas, and carrying one’s sword on one’s back. He grinned inwardly and kept practicing. After a half hour workout, the youth went to partake of the many shops and stands that turned the banks into a kind of bazaar.

Mahals didn’t miss any chance to sell their merchandise, erecting their businesses wherever large groups of people frequently gathered. Fruits, meats, wine, clothing, and all manner of other things were sold to help revive a weary traveler after his long journey, or to begin a new one. Vaun found his bargaining skills lacked the deftness required to outmaneuver the Mahalians, so he relied on Rush to help him buy some fresh food without losing all he had. He didn’t need the help that much after all, however, as many sellers simply gave him what he asked for. They looked at him askance as they did, mumbling to themselves about appeasing such a talented slayer.

Finally, a high-pitched voice announced their ferry, and the six travel-worn adventurers, with Thorne held tightly between Drath and Merdel, climbed aboard the vessel that would take them to the western bastion of money, power, and corruption. The Borbollon River was quite high from the rain and snow, but the ferry managed to cross easily. Small chunks of ice floated alongside the boats, but none were large enough to endanger the stout-hulled crafts. The companions disembarked with the rest of the passengers and made their way from the wharf to the great avenues waiting to take them inside the city. Walking their mounts, they passed through the first of the tall gates and entered the seafarers’ district, an odd name considering they were hundreds of miles from the sea. The Borbollon was a wide river, but it was still merely a river. Vaun passed it off as just more Mahalian boasting.

This area consisted mostly of long, low buildings housing both shipping and boat-building supplies and sailors. Taverns occupied almost every other street, and the place smelled strongly of indulgence in all kinds of sordid pleasures. All the streets were wide and muddy and mostly uncrowded here. Ahead, though, the party could see the thick masses clogging the rest of the city.

The next pair of gates, thick iron with golden scrollwork at the top like the others, opened into the city’s stable yard. Immediately, the six were assaulted with the noise of horses and their handlers trying to find a place for the beasts to rest. City law forbade riding to all except the town guard, so there were hundreds of stables available to house the mounts of travelers. The few cobblestones were slick with melted snow and animal leavings, and Vaun stumbled more than once. He also had to wipe his boots clean several times.

After stabling their horses, which was an adventure all its own, the group moved through a third pair of gates and entered the city proper. As they passed through, Vaun noticed the thickness of the walls separating the districts: they were six feet at least!

The snow began to fall more heavily and the shadows to lengthen toward sundown as Vaun and his companions made their way through the merchant district. Thousands of merchants called out to the passersby, demanding they buy their merchandise, and those who did heed their cries tried desperately to argue for a lower price. Few succeeded, however, as Mahalian merchants were said to be near equals to those of Celene.

Thorne told Vaun one story of a Celenian and Mahalian merchant who had once haggled for something like five years over the import price of a single shipment of spices. The exact length of time was debatable, but it was agreed it was a very long time.

Anyway, the bargaining went on for so long that no one remembered just whom the spices belonged to, which caused even more debate. In the end, the dwarf said, the two did settle on a price, only to find that the spices had soured because of the long wait. That sparked still more argument.

Thorne seemed to find the story terribly amusing, and Vaun joined him in laughing, though he wasn’t sure why. After a few minutes of reflection, however, the youth decided the story was more frightening than it was amusing, simply because he couldn’t understand why anyone could become so involved in haggling that he forgot just what he bargained for. It was a kind of single-mindedness found only in fanatics…and Swordsmen.

Rush and Dart, however, simply adored the verbal maneuvering happening on all sides, and had to be reminded several times that they didn’t have time for such foolishness. Grudgingly relenting, the two elf cousins followed the rest of the group as they tried vainly to find an inn with room enough for all of them.

After an hour more of walking and searching, with the sun finally descending behind the palace at the city’s opposite end, they found two inns directly across the wide street from each other that could sleep them all. They had to divide their party in half, and Vaun had the unexpected pleasure, thanks to an unlucky dice roll, of being secured with the elves for the duration of their stay. After storing their equipment and other unneeded possessions in their rooms, they all gathered in a tavern not too far away.

The Silver Platter was easily twice as large as any tavern Vaun had seen during his trip. The bar took up the entire right-hand wall, tended by three men who were watched over by a fourth, and the fireplace covered half of the wall opposite. It was crowded because of the lateness of the day, and was almost steamy compared to the cold outside. Voices thick with Mahalian and other accents produced a steady din, and the Swordsman heard at least two different languages being spoken. Most of the tables were long and rectangular, with people forced to sit next to strangers. No one seemed to mind, however, and the dozen burly men spaced throughout the common room kept fights to a minimum.

The companions brushed the snow from their cloaks as they searched for a place to sit. They had to push past tired workmen and worn travelers alike, and dodge the serving men and women who hurried about with practiced speed. Vaun, with Thorne’s help, identified at least six different kingdoms represented in this one place. The Swordsman also earned plenty of stares himself, as he had in several places, what with the type of sword he had and where he carried it. He tried to ignore the whispers about him as they found seats at a table as close to the fire as possible.

Despite the ambient warmth of the room, the door opened at regular intervals to allow in a blast of frigid air. A young serving man took their orders with a tired nod, then disappeared into the press of bodies. Once settled, the companions set about discussing plans for obtaining what they’d come to Mahal for.

“Pascor, the Court Wizard, has Gwyndar’s Wand.” Merdel sighed heavily. “Or at least he should. The wand was acquired by the man who held that position before I did, and it has been stored in the treasury ever since. Pascor’s probably never touched the thing, if he even knows it’s there. After I discovered it was useless, like every other mage who examined it before me, I tried to have it discarded. But the emperor wouldn’t hear of it. Mahalians don’t throw anything away, so His Majesty put the wand in the treasury. It probably hasn’t been moved since.”

Drath waited while the serving man gave them their food and drink and then left. “Do you think someone else may have tried to use it?”

“It’s entirely possible.” The wizard cut a slice of his steak and put it in his mouth. He chewed the tough meat a good minute or two before continuing. “But most likely not. I made sure everyone knew I believed it to be worthless. And despite what Lymon told us I still have my doubts about it.”

Drath swallowed to clear his mouth for speech. “Whether you doubt it or not isn’t the point. Can it be safely removed?”

Merdel shrugged and took a drink of wine. “I don’t know. Mahalian security is extremely tight, particularly around the treasury. Only a few tried to steal anything when I was there, and all of them were caught. As far as I know, no one’s ever succeeded.”

Rush smiled wickedly into his cup. “That doesn’t necessarily mean no one
will
succeed.” Dart nodded with the same mischievous look.

“This isn’t something to joke about.” The bearded mage brandished his knife at them for emphasis. “If you’re caught stealing, you’re hanged. Instantly. No questions, no hesitation. You are taken straight from where you are caught directly to the gallows.”

“Stones.” Thorne took a long drink. “This won’t be easy. I know from experience that the fire-blasted Mahal guard is good. Is there any way we can get to it without getting killed?”

“Perhaps.” Merdel fidgeted in his seat, looking a little edgy. He seemed unsure how his companions were going to react to his suggestion. “Before we let the elves try, I’d like to see if I can do something. It’s been a while, so the emperor might have forgiven me my transgressions. I did, after all, save his life a couple of times.”

Drath sipped his ale. “Do you think that’s wise? If you’re taken prisoner we’ll have to get you out. And that may be harder than taking the wand.”

“I’d at least like to try. Emperor Quiris might not like me, but he knows enough about my powers to keep him from trying to kill me at first sight.” His face, however, belied his words.

“Is he really an emperor?” Vaun broke in. “I thought the Western Kingdoms weren’t united.”

“They’re not. He just likes the title. In fact, I think all the western monarchs call themselves emperor, though Quiris does have a somewhat stronger claim to it. He
is
ruler of one of the most powerful kingdoms in the world, and the other kings do bow to his will more often than they challenge it. But that is beside the point. We have to get the wand and get out as quickly as possible. Elak comes closer to victory every day, and being in Mahal makes my skin crawl.”

“You’re not the only one.” Thorne drank off the rest of his ale.

Merdel nodded. “Whatever we do, we can’t do it tonight. All of us are too tired, and if I’m to try it needs to be during the day. I suggest we retire early and try to figure something out in the morning. We all need lots of rest.”

He turned to the two elves and pointed a greasy finger at them warningly. “And that goes especially for you two. I don’t want to wake up and find you two fire-blind idiots gone. Mahal is not a pleasant city, especially for non-humans. Despite what may be apparent, thievery is generally discouraged. So is curiosity. Of course, with as much corruption as this city has, it’s a wonder such ideals can be maintained. But the penalties do exist, mainly to encourage slippery weasels like you to be careful, and despite your talents you could wind up losing your hands, your wind-blown heads, or both. Vaun will be in your room, and he has instructions to kill both of you himself if you even think about leaving. Do you understand?”

The cousins nodded, though they obviously doubted the wizard’s, or the city’s for that matter, ability to carry out his threats. They assured the others, however, that they would remain in their rooms tonight, if only because they were too weary to do anything at all. But the next night? Well…

*
*
*

True to their word, the elves stayed in their room throughout the night, although Vaun wished they hadn’t because they kept him up half of it with their chattering. The Swordsman might not have cared so much if they’d conversed in his own tongue rather than in elvish. The elves’ native language sounded so peculiar that the youth found it nearly impossible to block out. As it was, he awoke the next morning in a somewhat foul temper.

He and the two cousins met Drath, Thorne, and Merdel for breakfast in The Silver Platter. All throughout the meal, Vaun shifted in his seat and kept sighing repeatedly, as well as almost nodding off twice. When Drath asked him what was wrong, he snapped a terse admonishment not to talk so much, and refused to say anything else.

Thorne smirked, apparently knowledgeable of what bothered the youth. “Don’t worry, Vaun, you can tie them up and gag them tonight.”

Vaun smiled in spite of himself, his sour mood lifting. Thorne had a way of lightening his dark moods, and Vaun was grateful for the usually taciturn dwarf’s presence.