C6 Chapter 6: High in the City

Nikko and Fydal used the days ahead to catch up on some rest and also to explore the huge city a little. Or at least the third level, where they were temporarily caught, so to

speak. Danuwil, however, was out and about a lot. He had to report to his guild, of course, and there was also the matter of the debt to Gílma to take care of, so they only saw him at breakfast and in the evenings. But his wife, Frâja, turned out to be an excellent hostess, and made sure that Nikko and Fydal lacked nothing.

On the afternoon of their third day there, Nikko and Fydal were lazing on the roof terrace, enjoying the beautiful weather; for a change, a light breeze was blowing, making the unaccustomed heat there in the south almost bearable.

“A courier is here for you, Novice,” a servant announced, making the young sorcerer, who'd been dozing, jump. “If you would follow me downstairs.”

Nikko was wide awake as he made his way down, realizing that this could well be the expected message from the Order. That meant things were getting serious!

“Novice Nikko from Vyldoro?” the messenger asked with a polite bow.

“Yes.”

“A letter for you, Novice.” The courier handed Nikko an envelope with a large seal.

A seal, Nikko thought as he accepted the letter. It was shiny and red and highly ornamented, but in his mind's eye, all the young sorcerer could see—more sharply than perhaps ever before—was the seal on the letter to Thorodos, especially the curving P. He still had the remains of it with him, one of the few things he had left after they had been robbed on the steppes.

“Messenger,” he said to the courier, who had turned to leave again. “Do you know much about seals?”

“The ones here in the third level, certainly, and a number of others.”

Excitedly, Nikko told the courier to wait, and then he ran and retrieved his backpack.

“Do you know this one?” Nikko asked, showing the two halves of the seal to the messenger.

“Well, there's not that much left to see,” the courier said as he inspected the half-melted remains. “But no, I don't think I know this seal.”

“Do you know the seal of Peri … uh, Peru …” Nikko stammered, half-disappointed and half-enthusiastic. “The Archmage of the city?”

“Peryndor?” The courier seemed rather confused. “No, my lord. I rarely carry the mail of such important people. You would need to ask a messenger at the top of the city about something like that.” “Thank you,” said Nikko, though he was somewhat disheartened.

He consoled himself with the thought that, sooner or later, he would find out who had written the ominous letter to Thorodos. But he was strangely certain that Peryndor was behind it. Danuwil had told him, weeks earlier, that Thorodos had been Peryndor's predecessor. It could not be a coincidence.

For now, though, he had his own letter to deal with. In all his excitement over the seal, he had all but forgotten it.

“A permit?” Fydal asked enviously. He had come downstairs now, too.

“I hope so,” said Nikko animatedly as he broke the beautiful seal. And inside was, in fact, a permit to enter the sixth level, but that was all. He thought someone might at least have written him a few lines.

“Show me!” said the prince, and when Nikko handed the permit to him, Fydal studied it closely. It was richly adorned with runes and symbols. “With this in your hand, no guard will stand in your way,” Fydal laughed. “Truly an impressive document! I can only hope I'll be as lucky,” he added, abashed.

“Don't worry,” said Frâja, surprising them. “Here in Zundaj, the Arcane Order takes precedence in everything. I'm sure the Novice's message was delivered with particular haste.”

“What if the ambassador never even made it here to Zundaj?” Fydal wondered. “I could be waiting here for an eternity.”

“I'll go and find the ambassador's residence tomorrow, before I visit the Order,” Nikko offered, feeling almost sorry for the prince.

The prince looked relieved. “Thank you, Nikko. I only wish I knew where he might be.”

Nikko smiled. “Don't worry,” he said. “I'll just ask the guards. They should know.”

Nikko had not been able to sleep much that night. He was simply too excited. After all, he was supposed to go into the most exclusive district of the city, all alone. And he was, when it came down to it, no more than a farmer's son, and could no doubt make all kinds of mistakes there. Just paying a visit to the Order was frightening. His first meeting, in Terys, had been mild enough, indeed, but certainly strange. What would be waiting for him among the wizards there in Zundaj? What would they want to know? How could he avoid mentioning Thorodos's name? So many questions, robbing him of sleep …

But now he had saddled himself with other tasks, as well. Not only had he promised the prince that he would visit the Hocatin embassy, which he first had to find, but he had also undertaken to find a courier up there who could tell him to whom the ominous seal belonged. And he would have to complete all of the tasks in a part of the enormous city that was completely foreign to him … taken together, they were a burden to his young soul. The fact that neither Fydal nor Danuwil could go with him made him feel even more uneasy, perhaps even scared.

He had practically no appetite, and it was all he could do to choke down a short breakfast, after which all three of them set off. Fydal and Danuwil did not want to miss the opportunity to at least accompany the young sorcerer to the next gate.

On the way, Danuwil was able to give Nikko more information about the higher rings. With some pride, he pointed out that he himself had been all the way up to the royal palace twice, and his business very often took him to the higher levels where he had dealt with some very distinguished people, more than once. What he did lack, though, was a permanent dispensation to visit the upper city.

For his part, Fydal stuffed the poor lad with countless instructions for the ambassador. Of course, the first thing the man had to do was organize a permit for the prince, and he should also arrange an audience at the royal court directly. The sooner the better, of course. Nikko could not remember much more than that in any case—his head was busy with enough problems of his own.

Later, at the gate, it was time to say goodbye. The young sorcerer had no idea what to expect when he visited the Order. Perhaps he would be back in Danuwil's house that evening. But it might also be that he would not see his companions for days, weeks or even months.

“Remember to have a message sent to us if you're going to be staying away for a long time,” Fydal reminded the young sorcerer. With a smile, he added, “Apart from that, all I can say is that I wish you well in your apprenticeship.”

“Good luck from me, too, young Novice,” Danuwil said, and shook Nikko's hand firmly.

“Thank you,” said Nikko, a little embarrassed.

Then, with his head high, the young Novice stepped through the gate and into the fourth ring. His robe—which Danuwil's servants had patched up and cleaned—seemed enough to prove his legitimacy, for none of the guards at the gate asked him for his permit.

Some half an hour later, following the main road, he passed into the fifth ring, again without problems.

Then, after another hour walking along the road, which climbed steadily, he came to the gate that led to the sixth ring. Whereas the buildings in the fourth and fifth levels had grown increasingly bigger and more magnificent, what he could now see of the sixth level was characterized mainly by succulent greenery in that otherwise parched climate. There seemed to be entire groves of trees up there.

“Greetings, Novice,” said an older soldier at the gate. “Excuse my astonishment, but it has been years since I last saw the robes of a Novice.”

“Really?” said Nikko in surprise. “Why is that? Are there so few Novices?”

“I don't know anything about that,” the soldier replied. Almost apologetically, he continued, “I'm sorry to have bothered you with it. May I see your permit, Novice? Forgive me, but the regulations are strict.”

“Of course,” Nikko smiled. With pride, he handed the guard the beautiful permit embellished with many runes.

The guard eyed the document only briefly, then nodded and handed it back.

“You may pass, Novice. Don't be afraid to ask if you need directions, but the building of the Arcane Order is very prominent and hard to miss.”

The soldier pointed with one armored glove to the magnificent building on the side of the mountain to the west, an edifice that Nikko had already gazed admiringly at from Danuwil's terrace. It looked like a collection of buildings and towers, with one large domed roof that sparkled impressively in the sunlight.

“Thank you,” Nikko replied. “Tell me, do you know where I could find the ambassador for the landgraviate of Hocatin?”

The guard reacted with surprise. “Hocatin? I've never heard that name.” He laughed then. “But then, there are so many landgraviates and principalities.”

“The smaller embassies are all on the eastern side of the ring,” another soldier said. “Only a few of the larger duchies and other kingdoms have their offices anywhere else.”

“That's true,” the older watchman agreed, then waved his glove toward the south-east. “Best would be for you to follow this road and ask further along.”

“Thank you very much,” said Nikko, stepping through the last gate.

He followed the street, and it led him through groves of green trees, the vista only broken occasionally by one or another large estate. He walked for an hour before finding himself in a beautiful public plaza. It was circular and surrounded by a large number of smaller buildings built close together. The entire area looked very well cared for, with lush vegetation and splashing fountains all around, and the young sorcerer, thirsty from all the walking, drank his fill at one of them.

It was almost midday, and Nikko's feet were beginning to hurt from the distance he'd traveled. He sat down on a convenient bench and listened to the pretty twittering of birds hidden in the profuse foliage overhead. He had nearly dozed off when a boy with a large leather satchel hurried past. A messenger, perhaps?

“Wait a moment,” he called after the boy.

The boy stopped and, shyly, said, “How may I be of service, my lord?”

“Are you a messenger?”

“Yes, lord.”

“Do you know where the Hocatin embassy is?” Nikko asked excitedly.

“Just behind you, lord,” the young man said. He seemed rather perplexed and pointed at one of the narrow buildings that ringed the plaza.

“Perfect,” said Nikko happily. Then he said, “Wait!”—the messenger was almost on his way again—“Do you know much about seals?”

“I know every seal in the top two levels,” the boy answered with pride.

“Can you tell me whose this is?” Nikko was very excited now, his hands almost trembling as he quickly took out the two halves of the slightly melted seal and handed them to the courier.

“Hmm. If that came from up here, then it can only be the seal of the Archmage.”

“Peridor?” Nikko asked.

“Peryndor,” the boy corrected him. “Yes, as far as I can tell, that's the P in Peryndor's seal.”

“Wonderful!” the young sorcerer whispered. “Thank you! Thank you very much!”

Nikko was a little ashamed that he had nothing with which to reward the messenger for helping him. But the young man was already away again on his errand.

So he finally knew who had sent the mysterious letter to Thorodos, although he had suspected for a long time that it was Peryndor; the Archmage would be able to answer the many questions that had been gnawing at Nikko for months.

In his excitement, the young sorcerer almost forgot that he had promised to help the prince. Now, however, he remembered again, and he walked over to the building that the messenger had pointed out.

Nikko knocked firmly on the massive wooden door several times, although he really wasn't completely sure he was even in the right place. Nothing was written on the door, at least.

“How can I—” said an older man who answered the door, his voice faltering when he saw who was there. “Excuse me, uh … Adept?”

“Is this the residence of the ambassador to the landgraviate of Hocatin?”

“Indeed it is,” said the man, who seemed confused. “What could the Order …? How can I help you?”

“I would like to speak to the ambassador,” said Nikko, trying to sound important.

“I'm sorry,” the man said uncertainly. “His uh … Excellency, Ambassador to his Serene Highness, the Landgrave of Hocatin is … indisposed, unfortunately.”

“When can I speak to him?” Nikko did not really understand what the man had just said. And why was he acting so confused?

“I am sorry, Adept,” the man replied, still clearly unsure of his words. “The ambassador is not currently resident in the city.” “But he returned from Hocatin, didn't he?” Nikko pressed.

“How do you know that?” The man seemed more mixed up than ever. “Who are you? Better if you come inside!”

That's the first sensible thing you've said, Nikko thought to himself as the older man led him inside to a small room, perhaps a waiting room, and offered him a glass of something to drink. Nikko took a sip; it tasted of lemons but was very sweet.

“I am Novice Nikko from Vyldoro,” the young sorcerer introduced himself, not wanting to waste any more time. “I'm traveling in the name of the prince …” he said, then began to trip over his own words. “His highness, major … uh … Fydal of Hocatin. You must know him.”

“Not personally,” the man replied. “But I have heard the names of the sons of his Serene Highness. But why are you traveling in his name?”

“That is something I'd prefer to discuss with the ambassador,” Nikko said, opting for caution.

“I am truly sorry, Novice,” said the man, now more sure of himself. “It is with the gravest of concern that I say that the ambassador has not yet returned from his visit to the court of Hocatin.”

“Damn it!” Nikko swore. “Then they must have caught him.”

“What are you talking about? Who must have caught him?” The old man had turned pale.

“You haven't heard about it yet, I guess,” Nikko began. “There is war in Hocatin. The duke of Khondharr attacked the landgraviate, and to add to the misfortune, the landgrave himself has passed away. The hereditary prince died in battle with Khondharr's forces. Fydal, the last of his line, is staying at the house of Bregánt here in Zundaj. He urgently requires an audience with the king, and—”

“Slow down, slow down!” the old man said, cutting Nikko off; the young sorcerer had gotten extremely worked up. “This is terrible news! I am just the ambassador's secretary, a simple scribe. Wylom is my name.”

“It's good to meet you, Wylom. Please just call me Nikko. What are we supposed to do now?”

“I wish I knew,” said Wylom with resignation. “I'm just his secretary, like I said. But even so, there's no one here who can perform the tasks of the ambassador.”

“Doesn't he have a deputy?” said Nikko in surprise.

“No. Hocatin is only a very small landgraviate. The embassy, of course, is completely at the disposal of the young prince. But arranging an audience with the king, as urgent as it might be, is not something I can help with.”

“Can you could at least arrange a permit that would let the prince come up here?” Nikko almost begged.

“Why would the guards stop the son of a ruler from coming here?” Wylom asked, taken aback.

“We had terrible luck on our way here,” Nikko explained. “We were robbed out on the steppes. Almost everything we had with us is gone. It has taken us days even for me to gain access to this level.”

The old man seemed almost in despair. “Oh, it's like there's a curse on the house of Hocatin. Where exactly is the prince staying?”

“In the house of a nobleman named Bregánt.”

“The name is not known to me,” Wylom said. “Where exactly is his house?”

“In the third ring.”

“Without express instructions from the ambassador, I am not allowed to complete any documents at all. And in any case, a permit like that, without his signature, would be worthless.”

“Can't we do anything?” Nikko was almost in despair.

“Up here, where I go through the gate every day, the guards know me well,” said the secretary. “I could certainly get the prince through this gate. But the gates to the fourth and third rings … Of course, you could ask another ambassador. Unfortunately, I don't know with whom we are presently on good terms and who not. Thordám excepted, of course. We are always on good terms with them.”

“I don't have the time for that,” said Nikko. “The Arcane Order called me, and I've put off visiting them longer than I should have already.”

Wylom was shocked at Nikko's words. “Of course, Nikko. Under no circumstances should one keep the Order waiting when they send for you. No one should get on the wrong side of the sorcerers of the Order!”

“Then I should be on my way,” the young sorcerer said, anxious now. “Send Fydal a message as fast as possible! He is waiting impatiently for a permit to get up here. He should know that all his waiting is in vain. As I said, he's staying at the house of Bregánt in the third ring.”

“I will go to him today,” the secretary assured him. “You have my word on that, Nikko.”

When Nikko left the building, a figure disappeared suspiciously quickly behind the trees on the plaza. Was he being watched? Or was it the embassy building that was being spied on? Should he try to find out? But time was pressing. Wylom was very likely right to say that it was not smart to keep the Order waiting too long. For a moment, he thought about warning the secretary, but he might also have been imagining things. Time to visit the Order, he decided, and set off.