C5 Chapter 5: The City on the Mountain

At the end of the second day after joining the caravan, they were finally out of the dry steppes. From there, the trade route that led to Zundaj began to pass through villages again, although the caravan, if it stopped at all in the villages, did so only briefly. Nikko discovered that the traders were mainly dealing in iron and other metals, and before they reached Zundaj they would not find many buyers able to pay for such valuable cargo. But in the capital of the kingdom, the hunger for such expensive metals knew no bounds.

The landscape they were passing through was changing. More and more, the road they followed was starting to approach hills and outcrops of rock that had previously been on the horizon. The rough grasses and spiky bushes of the steppes had given way to forests of conifers; although they were not to be compared to the dark sprucewoods of Nikko's homeland, the young sorcerer still felt more at home among the trees than out on the open plains. The further they went, the higher and steeper became the rocky terrain on both sides of the road. Soon, actual mesas began to appear.

Late on the morning of the fifth day of their travels with the iron traders, the road that had wound through steep, rocky landscapes for nearly two days opened above a broad valley, at the far end of which rose an enormous flat-topped mountain. Unfortunately, the caravan did not stop, and they were not able to enjoy the spectacular panorama for long. But the road they followed was high, higher than the flat top of the mountain, and one could look out over it and see a lot … and there was a lot to see.

“Zundaj,” Danuwil declared casually. He was sitting on one of the wagons with Nikko and Fydal. “The capital city of the kingdom. Its true heart.”

The view almost took Nikko's breath away: an endless sea of buildings atop the high plateau, from which one enormous building after another caught his eye, rising from the mass. The young prince also seemed deeply impressed.

“It's huge!” Nikko exclaimed, wide-eyed. “Much bigger than Terys, even.”

Fydal nodded. “It certainly is. Hocatin seems so small and tranquil compared to such a huge city.”

“There must be thousands of people living there,” Nikko marveled.

“Thousands?” Danuwil laughed. “My young sorcerer, there are millions.”

The road led them down into the valley on their side, but they were often able to catch a glimpse of the city. Nikko's eyes were drawn to the walls and towers of pale stone, the many rooftops and domes, some of them gleaming in the sunlight. Were they made of some sort of precious metal? At the far end of the plateau rose another mountain—a mountain on the mountain—on which there was some sort of massive construction. But the air was too misty, or was it only dust?

“What's that up on the mountain?” Nikko asked.

“At the highest point is the King's fortress,” Danuwil said. “Further down the mountain, many of the guilds have their headquarters, and some of the richest citizens and nobles live there, too. It's like the government quarter of Terys, only much bigger. Like everything in Zundaj.”

After that, the road dropped so deeply into the valley that the city on the mountain all but disappeared from view.

The sun was already beginning to set behind the high city walls, which they were now approaching from the east. The way down into the valley and up the other side had cost them almost the entire day, more than enough time to let the first impressions of the enormous city sink in.

Nikko, for whom little Hocatin had once appeared so overwhelming, could hardly wait to finally set foot inside the capital city. But he was also worried about how they would even get by when they arrived. They had no money left, after all, and they had been lucky to have the caravan take them along and even feed them for free. Whether that generosity stemmed from compassion or from fear of the Order was still not clear to Nikko … perhaps they would even give him some money if he asked? No, he would not trust himself to do something like that. Danuwil and Fydal would know what was to be done, he thought, and that calmed him down.

When they were still several stone's throws from the city walls, one of the traders said, “I'm afraid we've come too late. The toll gate for merchants will already be closed for today. For travelers like yourselves, though, the gates will still be open for a few hours.”

“Then accept our thanks,” said Danuwil. “And should our paths cross again, we will be able to show our gratitude.”

“Don't mention it, please,” the merchant replied, and glanced at Nikko. Then, almost anxiously, he added, “It was an honor for us to be of service to the Order.”

The whole scene seemed so ridiculous to Nikko that he almost laughed out loud. But at some level, too, he enjoyed the feeling of power. Perhaps it had been best after all to reveal himself to the Order. Who knows what truly lay behind the death of Thorodos? No doubt the Order was not as bad as he'd imagined it to be.

“Well, what now?” Fydal asked as they approached the city gate.

“Without money, you mean,” said Danuwil. “To be honest, I'm hoping our young Novice here will be able to get us through, at least to the lower part of the city.”

“Get us through?” said the prince.

“The guards won't let just anyone in. Sometimes it takes a bribe. Often, actually.”

“Thank you for thinking of that in good time. We would probably have been better off going in with the caravan in the morning!”

“I can't imagine that they'll turn away our Novice,” Danuwil placated him. “And they would hardly dare try to charge him any … let's say, entry fee.”

Fydal yawned and shrugged. “Wonderful. But I'm too tired to argue about your half-cocked plans. Let's just try it.”

All around the gate was a crowd in turmoil, with countless people camped alongside the road. Here and there, campfires burned, spreading the biting odor of charred meat. Considering the ragged appearance of most of the travelers there, Nikko had no desire to find out what it was they were cooking, although his own belly was aching for something to fill it.

“Who are you?” barked a peevish watchman an hour later, when it was finally their turn.

“Novice Nikko,” the young sorcerer seized the initiative. “And these are my two companions.”

“Right. You can pass,” the guard said after a quick inspection of Nikko. He did not seem particularly convinced, but did not want to risk any trouble either.

When they were inside, Danuwil turned to Nikko and Fydal. “See? Worked like a charm. We didn't even have to pay.”

“What were we even supposed to pay with?” Fydal asked. “We don't have a copper to our names.”

“One thing at a time,” said the nobleman appeasingly, a disarming smile on his face. “Be happy that we've made it into the city at all.”

“But Fydal is right,” Nikko said. “What are we supposed to do now?”

“We have to get up to the third level. I have my own small place up there. And my guild is based there, too.”

Fydal was taken aback. “Level? What do you mean?”

“The city is divided into levels, or really rings. Down here, we're in the lowest ring, where only the poorest live.”

“So do you think they'll just let us into the higher levels, just like that?” Nikko asked.

Danuwil looked thoughtful, and replied, “In our current situation, that could be difficult. There are certainly passes and passwords, but no one with a sword and a coat-of-arms would be stopped. Frustrating that I've lost both.”

“Maybe they would let me through as a Novice.”

“Maybe. But the guard at the first gate was already looking at you suspiciously …”

Fydal nodded. “The guards at the inner gates are bound to be stricter. On the other hand, you really are traveling on the Order's business. Didn't the master give you some sort of letter?”

“No. Thinking about it, I get the feeling that all he really wanted was to get rid of me again.”

“And I guess you can't produce any … lightning bolts or suchlike, without the wand? To impress the guards?”

“No,” Nikko admitted. “I wouldn't know how.”

Fydal looked pensive for a moment, then said, “Well, if they won't let you in, I'm sure they will pass a message to the Order to say that a new Novice has arrived, won't they?”

Danuwil frowned. “The Order is in the sixth ring. It will take days for a message to get passed so far up. Still, at this hour, the gates higher up will already be closed for the day. We should worry about where we're going to spend the night.”

“And how are we supposed to pay for that?” Fydal muttered.

“Let me think,” Danuwil said appeasingly. “Who do I know in the lower city who could help us? Apart from Gílma …”

“Who's Gílma?” the prince asked, pricking up his ears.

“A … businessman,” Danuwil replied hesitantly. “But now that I think about it, no one else comes to mind.”

“So what's wrong with Gílma?”

“Well,” Danuwil began reluctantly, “he's something of a crook, and I can't stand the man. But I can't think of any better idea, unless we want to spend the night on the street.”

It took them half an hour of picking their way through the streets of the lower city, which were overflowing with poor people bivouacking out in the open. Nikko was shocked at the conditions they lived in. It seemed much worse than in the days he'd spent in the Iron Citadel, where the many refugees had idled away the days in their own muck. The big city suddenly seemed far less majestic here, swimming in the reek of rubbish and excrement.

Nikko was happy when they reached their goal, a large but rather squalid looking building. As squalid as the rest of the city, at least here in the lowest ring. It therefore came as even more of a surprise to find that, inside, it was far better appointed. But what confused Nikko most was the purpose of the place: all around were scantily clad women and young men, all very youthful looking and attractive.

“Where have you brought us, Bregánt?” the prince whispered. “And there I was, thinking we couldn't sink any deeper.”

“I've brought you to this … establishment … most reluctantly,” the nobleman replied. “But I'm afraid we have no other choice tonight.

And believe me when I say that the favor we have to ask of Gílma tonight will come at a high price later.”

“Customers,” purred a half-naked girl, licking her lips seductively, although Nikko found the gesture somewhat repulsive. The prince, too, seemed put off. Danuwil, though, almost began to drool.

“Later … perhaps,” he stammered. “First I have to speak to Gílma, pretty girl.”

“Oh, I see,” said the young woman. “Whom should I announce, then?”

“Danuwil,” the nobleman said. “Danuwil of Bregánt. Gílma knows me well … very well.”

“All right,” she whispered in his ear. “Then I will tell him that

Danuwil, Danuwil of Bregánt, is here.”

They had to wait for several minutes under the uncomfortably direct looks of the people in that strange house before a man appeared and waved Danuwil over.

“What kind of strange place is this?” Nikko said to the prince in a hushed voice while they waited for Danuwil to return.

“A house of pleasure,” Fydal answered. He, too, obviously felt uncomfortable there. “You can buy the love of … amenable women here. And apparently of the pretty boys, as well.”

That was more than Nikko wanted to know. He found the whole topic not only uncomfortable, but practically alien.

The minutes before Danuwil returned felt like hours, but then the nobleman came back grinning broadly.

“All done,” he said. “We can spend the night here and also get something to eat. And the best part is that we each get to choose a pretty girl to share our bed.”

“Thank you very much, but I prefer to sleep alone!” said the prince in indignation.

“You could also take one of the young men, if that's what you prefer,” the nobleman laughed coarsely. “No one will judge you here.”

“That's enough!” the prince hissed, turning bright red. “Tell me what the … master of the house expects in exchange for his … hospitality!”

“I bargained him down to twenty five pieces of silver, payable in arrears, of course.” Danuwil seemed proud of making such a deal. “A good price when you think that we have no security to offer.”

“All right. It could have been worse. But was it really necessary to book the whores on top?”

Danuwil laughed. “Don't be such a spoilsport. After all we've been through, we've earned a little relaxation!”

“I don't want to hear another word. A bite to eat, then I want to retire … alone!”

“As you like,” Danuwil shrugged. “What about you, young sorcerer?” the nobleman pried.

“I … I'd like to … sleep alone, too,” Nikko stammered. He was finding the entire conversation terribly embarrassing, although he could not have said exactly why. Most young men his age would have jumped at the opportunity. So why did the prince turn down such an enticing offer?

Danuwil just grinned and said, “Well, I can't force you to be happy.”

After an evening meal of curiously spiced meat and strange side dishes, the prince quickly disappeared into his room. Nikko wanted to do the same, but he was still eating.

“Don't be such a wet blanket, young sorcerer,” Danuwil laughed, holding Nikko firmly by the shoulder as he rose to leave. “Stay and keep me company. Our travels have been hard enough.” He poured each of them a full glass of wine. “This is a good drop, like almost all the wines here in the sunny south.”

Nikko really did want to get to bed, but felt obliged to the nobleman. After all, he had managed to find a place for them to spend the night. If not for him, they would have been forced to sleep outside in the muck, among the hungry and destitute. “All right,” he smiled. “One glass can't hurt.” “Exactly,” Danuwil laughed.

They were soon joined by the young woman that Danuwil had spoken to earlier, and she quickly turned her charms on the nobleman.

“Are you sure, my young friend, that you want to spend the night by yourself?” Danuwil teased the young sorcerer, but he was not looking at him. His eyes were fixed on the cleavage of the young woman, and his fingers, too.

“Oh, the boy wants to sleep alone?” she said with feigned disappointment. “What a waste.”

Danuwil grinned, his hands kneading the girl's bared breasts hungrily. “Definitely,” he said. “Don't you have a little playmate for my young friend?”

She laughed. “But of course. Katyla!”

Nikko had now emptied his second glass of red wine, and the nobleman kept refilling it to the brim. In his nervousness, he had long forgotten any plans he may have had.

“Arina?” A young girl came to the table and curtseyed politely.

“Take care of the boy here,” Danuwil's girl ordered, then returned to licking the nobleman's earlobe.

“Of course,” the newcomer said, and she sat brazenly on Nikko's lap.

Nikko sat as if paralyzed while the young woman, with her blond hair and green eyes, tenderly caressed his face and neck. The only thing that would help him, he knew, was another glass of wine, and he swallowed the entire glass in a gulp. When her hand found its way to his crotch, another glass was called for. It was only when her tongue found its way into his mouth that he forgot about the wine.

“See you at breakfast,” the drunken Novice heard Danuwil laugh, as the girl pulled him up the stairs behind her.

Everything around him was blurry and he staggered more than walked. Finally, they reached a room, and when they were inside, the girl handed him another glass of wine, which he took with pleasure. Then he sat on the bed beside her. Now filled with enough liquid courage, he moved his hands to her breasts, as he had seen Danuwil do.

He closed his eyes for a moment to master the spinning in his head, and when he opened them again, the girl was lying utterly naked on the bed. She wiggled one finger, beckoning him, and he went. Lying beside her, everything began to spin again. He felt incredibly tired. He would just rest his eyes for a moment.

Nikko slept extremely well that night. After all their travels, it did him good to sleep in a soft bed again. And the bed was certainly soft! The room in that house of pleasure was very nicely decorated, he thought: mostly red cloth and dark wood. At least, that's what he realized for the first time when, with a terrible headache, he woke up.

What had happened? Yes, he'd been drinking with Danuwil. But what else? The girl! Had he …? And where was she now?

For the life of him, Nikko could not recall any of the details. The girl was nowhere to be seen. Only the obscene paintings hanging on the walls all around gave him any idea of what might have happened the night before. He felt terribly embarrassed, and hoped he would not accidentally cross paths with the girl again.

All three met again at breakfast, which consisted of no more than the leftovers from the previous night's dinner. That was because the place didn't normally serve any sort of breakfast, Danuwil explained to Nikko. For his part, the young sorcerer was happy that the nobleman didn't say a word about the events of the previous night, although the smirk on his face seemed to confirm a lot of Nikko's suspicions. So Nikko decided to hold his tongue, too, and hoped again that would not run into the girl again. He felt terribly embarrassed about the whole thing, though he was at a loss to say why.

“Fine, Bregánt,” said Fydal, suddenly speaking up. “We've all made it through the night in one piece. Where do we go from here?”

“Gílma maintains … certain contacts with my guild,” the nobleman replied. “He's already sent a message to have someone pick us up.”

“When are they coming?” Nikko asked. He found the idea of getting out of that place as quickly as possible very appealing.

“Sometime today.”

“Then why all that to-ing and fro-ing last night, if it's all so simple now?” the prince asked.

“It's like this: one never knows just how good someone like Gílma's ties are with the guild. Right now, apparently, they're very good. But there have been other times, too. There were times when I never would have risked having my name associated with the name of a villain like Gílma.”

“Do I want to know the details?” the prince asked.

Danuwil laughed. “No. You really don't.” Then his tone grew more cautious and reassuring, and he said, “Not that you get the wrong impression, Your Highness. It just that the business of the guild is sometimes … complicated. Here in the south, that's just how things work, as different as it may be for you up in the north.”

“No need to explain yourself, Bregánt,” the prince said. “The most important thing now is that we get out of this lower ring, and soon. I sincerely hope that the conditions in the third ring you spoke of are better than they are here.”

Danuwil smiled. “Of course. Much better, if I may say so. My house is no palace worthy of a ruler, but I'm sure it will be an acceptable home for a while.”

“As long as it's clean and doesn't stink, then I'll be happy, at least to start with,” Fydal laughed. He seemed to be in a genuinely good mood.

“You have my word,” the nobleman grinned.

It wasn't long before Danuwil had left to have another discussion with Gílma. He returned brandishing a permit that would allow them access to the third level, but judging by his ugly mood, Nikko guessed that getting it had involved even more costs or concessions.

They set off minutes later, wanting to finally put the stinking lower city behind them. In the bright light of day, it looked even worse than it had the night before. The walls, originally white, were yellowing and in many places smeared or filthy, and again there was the unbearable throng of people. The streets were full of ragged figures, and everywhere they looked was muck, garbage, stench. It was simply revolting.

It was only when, some two hours later, they had passed through the door to the second ring that they could breath easier. There were far fewer people on the streets, which were cleaner and barely stank at all.

Now, they had arrived at the entrance to the third level, and there was little going on at the gate. It was around midday, but things generally seemed much calmer. The place was a true oasis after the ordeal of the lower city.

“Greetings,” one of the guards called out to them as they approached. “Your permit, please, or the password.”

“Greetings, soldier,” the nobleman replied. “I am Danuwil of

Bregánt. Here is my permit.”

The guard inspected the document closely for a full minute. Then he showed it to some of the other guards and all of them shook their heads.

“What's going on,” Fydal—obviously nervous—whispered. “Is something wrong with the document?”

“Damned Gílma,” Danuwil hissed between gritted teeth. “He's in trouble if he's dumped a fake on me.”

“The date and signature don't match,” the soldier at the gate remarked calmly. “Sloppiness of the duty officer, or a forgery?”

Danuwil was in a spot. “Uh, well … I didn't collect the document personally.”

“A forgery, then,” said the guard, still very calm.

“Possibly,” the nobleman admitted openly. “But be that as it may, I am Danuwil of Bregánt and I have my home here.”

“The man seems familiar to me,” said another of the guards in unexpected support. “But if he is really a Bregánt, I cannot say.”

“My duty is to arrest you on the spot, actually,” the guard explained placidly. “But it may be that you are telling the truth. Who are your companions?”

“Novice Nikko,” the young sorcerer immediately introduced himself. “I have to visit the Arcane Order.”

“Slowly, slowly,” the soldier replied. “You do indeed wear a robe, but why do you look so down at heel? My gut feeling tells me that something isn't right, and my gut is usually right.”

“We have a long journey behind us, and we were robbed along the way,” Danuwil explained.

“But I can't know if you are telling the truth,” said the guard. “I can only allow you to enter if you can show proof or if there is someone who will vouch for your identity.”

“Then have someone send for my household,” Danuwil suggested.

“All right. Soldier Keraj, do you know where the Bregánts live?”

“Yes, sir.”

It took half an hour, but when the soldier returned he was accompanied by a well-dressed, middle-aged woman. She was characteristically from the south, with dark, almond-shaped eyes and with her black hair tied up. She smiled sardonically when she saw Danuwil.

The guard at the gate approached his returning colleague. “Soldier Keraj, who have you brought with you?”

“The lady of the Bregánt house, sir.”

“Frâja, my dear,” Danuwil immediately cooed. “How lovely to see you again.”

“Madam, can you attest to the identity of this man?” the guard asked.

“Let me take a close look at the scoundrel first,” the woman mocked. “It's been quite some time since the last time I saw my husband, after all.”

“Hardly a year, dear wife,” the nobleman fawned. Then he bowed and kissed her hand gallantly.

The thought of Danuwil getting up to mischief the previous night in that disreputable house of pleasure made it hard for Nikko not to laugh out loud. But that same thought made him remember the mischief he himself had got up to … and although he still could not remember exactly what had taken place, he felt his face flush red.

“Oh yes, soldier,” the woman laughed. “This man is my husband, Danuwil of Bregánt. And we can all count ourselves lucky that there is only one of him.”

“Good,” said the guard. “Then you may pass. And this …” he added, tearing up the forged permit, “… is forgotten.”

The third level was even better than the second. There was no rabble on the streets, which were lined with trees and bushes. According to Danuwil, the third level was mainly the abode of merchants, though a few noblemen lived there as well. The houses all looked well cared for, and practically gleamed, clean and white. The style, though, was foreign to Nikko, even stranger than the buildings in Terys or the other towns they had seen on their long journey. Many of the buildings were crowned by domes, or decorated with battlements and little towers.

Danuwil's house was really not very big at all, but as tastefully furnished as his wife was dressed: it was clear who had the last word at home. Their hostess had offered the prince the largest bedroom, but Fydal, in a rare display of modesty, had declined, and now he and Nikko shared a rather small room. But it was clean and cozy. After their long journey, one could not ask for more.

Everyone had been able to find some rest, and now they sat at dinner, out on the roof of the house, one half of which was built as a terrace. From up there, they had a beautiful view out over the entire city, and could see more clearly the royal palace atop the high mountain to the northwest. It was a massive construction, bigger even than the Iron Citadel. But Nikko had already grown used to the idea that everything was bigger in Zundaj.

A large number of buildings—magnificent structures, without exception—perched on the side of the mountain, and the nobleman and his wife named them all for their enraptured guests. Among them were many offices of the various powerful guilds. There the mercenaries, and there the bounty hunters, and the guilds of assorted craftsmen and merchants. And also of the Arcane Order, a particularly splendid edifice. Close to the mountain, too, were the palaces of the high nobility and the filthy rich merchants … sheltering in its shadow, so to speak.

“You have a nice place here, Bregánt,” Fydal praised. He seemed much better inclined toward the nobleman now than he had in previous weeks. “A little cramped, perhaps, but one can certainly put up with it for a while, although I certainly wouldn't want to overstretch your hospitality.”

“It is my greatest honor to be able to call you my guest for as long as you might care to stay, Your Highness,” Danuwil crooned. He was in a wonderful mood: everything had gone well for him that day.

“Well, I certainly feel more at home here than in our last lodgings,” the prince laughed.

Danuwil shook his head. “Don't say another word about it. That

Gílma … what a weasel!”

“How could he stand to benefit from a forged permit?” Fydal wondered. “I mean, you didn't pay him anything in advance.”

The nobleman shrugged. “He probably thought the guards wouldn't spot it as a fake. He wanted another ten silver coins for it, a pretty profit for him.”

“Everything's turned out for the best,” the prince warned. “But it could easily have gone the other way.”

“Indeed,” Danuwil agreed. “We were very lucky to run into such a patient guard. Have no fear, Highness, I will certainly be discussing Gílma with my guild.” To Nikko's relief, the nobleman changed the subject. “I must admit, though, that I have no idea where Hocatin's representative office is located, though I suspect it must be in the fifth or even the sixth ring.”

“I have to speak to the ambassador as soon as possible,” Fydal said, pondering. “Too much time has already been wasted.”

“We could send him a message, but it will certainly take several days to reach him. The same goes for your and the Order, young Novice,” Danuwil added, turning to Nikko.

“Why does it take so long?” the young sorcerer asked.

“The higher you go in the city, the fewer the people who are allowed access, and the tighter the security. If you don't happen to know a servant who works in the sixth ring and who would be willing to carry a message for you, then you're left with the city's postal service. And that is notoriously slow. I can, of course, ask at my guild whether someone knows someone who knows someone,” he suggested with a laugh. “But I don't know if it would save much time.”

“Maybe a few days rest would do us good,” the prince joked. “How long have we been traveling? More than five weeks, if I'm not mistaken.”

A few days rest. For the young sorcerer, that sounded attractive, very attractive indeed.