Everard’s betrayal had hit me like a semi. I felt raw, as if someone had taken a brick to my emotions and viciously smashed them until they turned into one continuous bruise. I didn’t want to think about it. I had a big hurdle to overcome today and if I managed it, I would have to go home, and home had turned from my shelter to a dragon’s lair.
But here and now I was “a beautiful woman,” if only out of politeness, who wore a lovely dress and had amazing hair, and I was being escorted through the Citadel by a handsome knight of remarkable hotness ready to catch me if I stumbled. I let go and enjoyed the moment.
We reached the gates, where a young knight ran up to us. Bellen issued a short order, and a carriage appeared as if by magic, pulled by a large roan horse and driven by a young male squire. The carriage was a rectangular box on four wheels, with a single door at the front and square windows. It was less a leisure vehicle and more a fortified transport like what Hreban had ridden in, although not nearly as ornate.
Bellen helped me into the carriage. Leaning on his hand was like resting your weight on an iron rail. He almost lifted me up into it.
Inside the carriage was a simple bench running along the interior walls. It could fit four people comfortably, maybe six if someone sat on the floor. No frills but so much better than walking.
I settled in and drew the blue curtain back on the window. Bellen was looking at me. His eyes were warm and still filled with humor.
“Thank you again, my lord.”
“Think nothing of it.” He looked at the driver. “Take the lady where she wants to go. Let no harm come to her. Then return here.”
“Yes sir.”
“My guard is waiting on the street,” I called out to the driver.
“I shall stop for him, my lady.”
“Until we meet again, Lady Maggie.”
“Until then, Lord Bellen.”
The carriage rolled forward. Now we just had to pick up Lute, and we would be on our way.
One visit down, one to go, and that one would be harder than getting in and out of the Citadel in one piece. I had to play this very carefully. It was our only chance to get at the Butcher before he killed again.
Centuries and centuries ago, before the capital became the sprawling beast it was now, a small fishing village had perched in the hills that touched the sea. Sliced off from the rest of the coast by a forked river, the village presented a difficult target and promised very little plunder. When raiders struck out of desperation, the fishermen retreated into ancient caverns dug in the hills by a long-forgotten people, waited them out, and then resumed their simple lives.
Years passed, kingdoms formed and fell, and eventually the potential of the sheltered harbor was recognized. A castle rose on a nearby hill to protect the fertile lands and the budding port. The fortress became a marker for the traders. Travel until you seekair toren—the castle towers.
People settled around the castle, seeking protection and the jobs the port promised. The city grew, spreading outward, taking over more and more of the delta, until it swallowed the little fishing village, which became known as Old Town. It lay in the southwest of the capital now, away from the busier docks. Its smaller port catered to specific commercial ships, military vessels, and couriers. Ironically, no fishing boats docked there anymore. The fishermen had moved out, their huts had been leveled, and large estate-size dwellings sprouted in their stead, home mostly to mid-level merchants, who required quick access to the port.
Our next stop lay at the heart of Old Town, on the slopes of Fifth Hill. I had allowed the Defender carriage to bring us over the bridge and let it go two blocks after that. It rolled back the way it came, and Lute and I wistfully stared after it. Like all soldiers, Lute prized getting off his feet.
“We should buy a carriage,” he said.
“Where would we put it?”
“We could build a cart shed.”
“Where?” There really wasn’t any space.
“By the river. Me and Will could build it.”
“Lute, have you ever built a cart shed before?”
“It’s a box. Four walls and a roof. How hard could it be?”
I looked around, trying to orient myself. The main road, paved with darker gray stone, climbed up in front of us, winding around the hill upward. The houses were invisible, set back from the street and hidden from view by solid walls, sheathed in flowering vines. The people who lived here liked their privacy and didn’t react well when it was invaded.
Let’s see . . . the ocean was behind us, the green dome of the Trader’s Temple peaked through the houses in front of us. We were in the right general area.
“What now?” Lute asked.
“Now we wander around until we find the correct house.”
