9-2
The guard walked them quickly through a wide promenade. The city of Kundz was compact and efficiently arranged. The road they walked was the only one of a respectable size. It was lined with shops and crowded with people, as it was the sole street adequate for a market.
As the group passed, the citizens of Kundz stopped their tasks to watch them. Their size, along with their dark and fitted clothing, clearly identified them as foreigners among the short, surly crowd in light and lose robes. Even though it was a busy midmorning, it seemed as though everyone stopped to stare. None of the disciples dared speak as they kept close to Syffox.
Syffox was not disturbed by the glaring onlookers. He merely nodded with his customary friendly smile. When he met the gaze of those he passed, their scowls deepened. He began to wonder if there was any gift Vantaiga could give these people that would make them friendly.
With the quick pace of their escorting guard, they came to a large gate of an inner wall in little time. This wall was as equal a fortification as the outer wall, with the battlements manned both on top and at its base. Patches of mismatched mortar told the young disciples that this structure was no mere remnant of the city’s past but an integral part of its defences. A collective shiver went through the acolytes as it dawned on them that although large and populous, Kundz was still very much an active battlement.
Abruptly, their escorting guard stopped and turned to the group. “Wait here.”
He left the small mission to approach the soldiers standing watch at the new gate. Meanwhile, a crowd began to gather around the group of forest dwellers.
The city guard began a discussion with the soldiers that was inaudible to the mission. While he did so, the soldiers shot dubious looks to the group. Syffox’s young companions began to shift awkwardly at the scrutiny. After some debate, a soldier left, and several long, uncomfortable moments later, he returned with what appeared to be an officer.
Their escorting guard then appeared to be recounting the situation all over again to the officer. There were exchanges and shaking of heads. The officer appeared dismissive of the whole tale until the guard mimicked firing a bow. There was a pause while the officer looked over the guard and then to the conspicuous group waiting in the middle of the roadway. He gave a command to a subordinate, who promptly disappeared through the inner gate.
With two other soldiers, he approached Syffox and asked sternly, “What business do you have here?”
Syffox was undaunted by his rough manner. “We are missionaries from the forest and wish to speak with the lords of your city.”
The officer shook his head. “The city council has no business with the forest and no time to speak with strangers.”
Syffox interjected, “But I come on behalf of the Goddess of the Forest. She has an offer to bequeath a gift to the people and lords of Kundz.”
The officer looked confused. “There is no such thing as a goddess. The forest is a godforsaken land. You speak heresy.”
“Oh, but there is a Goddess of the Forest, and I wish to tell you and the lords of her and what she has to offer your great city.”
The officer processed what he just heard while looking over Syffox and his group of five disciples. He pursed his lips before finally speaking. “You cannot enter the high city with weapons. You will have to turn them over to me.”
Syffox gestured to his companions. “My disciples have no weapons, and you may have my arrows if you wish.”
The officer shot in, “—and your bow.”
Now it was Syffox’s turn to process what he just heard. He finally replied courteously, “Surely without arrows, a bow is not a weapon.” The officer’s face hardened. Syffox paused a moment longer before continuing, “Also, my honour is bound to this bow. It would not be proper for me to relinquish it.”
This struck a chord with the officer. He considered it before replying, “You may enter but without your quiver and arrows then.”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Syffox nodded. “Of course. Thank you.” He unslung his quiver and handed it to the officer. The officer took the quiver and hesitated—his eyes were caught by the strange, ornate engravings of leaves and vines. The vines trailed down to the base of the quiver where they became the fingers of an outstretched hand. He did not understand the markings, but he knew they were significant. “If you are an honour-bound man, then I will also have your honour that you will do no harm in this city.”
Syffox looked reassuringly. “Of course. On my honour, I will do no harm.”
The officer nodded and finally satisfied, led the group through the gates of the inner wall. Once inside, they were joined by five more soldiers who followed behind. It did not escape Syffox’s attention that with the new escort of soldiers and the original city guard, they were outnumbered.
The inner gate opened to a massive courtyard with marbled stones glaring brightly under Coronus’s amusement. Before them at the far end was a tall edifice with large, white columns. To their left stood an equally impressive building with many soldiers and decorated officers about it. On their right stood what appeared to be a collection of temples merged into a single complex.
Butterflies swarmed in the stomachs of the disciples. They stood at the centre of power of a city that prided itself on its power. It also did not escape Syffox’s followers that the symbol of Coronus, an eye with rays radiating from it, was the most prominently displayed relief among the complex of temples.
Syffox could hear murmurs from his group before a disciple whispered in his ear, “Is everything well?”
Syffox suppressed a chuckle. “We are safe. The soldiers are just being cautious.”
“I didn’t know you were honour-bound to your bow.”
“I have many binds to my bow; honour is one of them.”
“What would happen if they tried to take it away?”
Syffox replied to his junior with a wry look. “Then our mission of peace would be over.” Despite being veiled in humour, the master’s words made the disciple shiver.
They crossed the stone yard, and the officer led them up a tier of steps to the large, columned entrance of the city’s council hall. The city was obviously as successful financially as it was militarily. At the top, they were greeted by yet another set of soldiers stationed at the entranceway. The officer held up his hand to stop the missionaries, then pointed to the new soldiers and gestured his fingers to where he stood. The soldiers promptly crossed to him.
He turned to Syffox and his group. “You will stay here while I see if the lords will give you audience.” He pressed their original city guard escort forward. “You will come with me.”
Syffox observed the scene with growing humour. He looked to the new soldiers that stood at attention before him and, with a bright smile, said, “My greetings.” The eyes of the two soldiers flinched towards each other before they each replied with a quick, stern-faced nod themselves.
Syffox’s companions did not find any humour in the situation. They fidgeted and looked about nervously and became ever more aware that the activity of the courtyard was slowing as people stopped to watch the proceedings atop the steps. Syffox could sense their agitation. “Relax. You have nothing to fear.”
One of them spoke up to break the tension. “Do you think they will accept the Goddess’s offer?”
“Of course they will. I don’t see any other gift from the gods here.”
After a few more awkward minutes on the steps, the disciples were relieved to finally see the officer emerge, alone, from the hall entrance. He walked directly to Syffox. “You may enter and speak with the lords. Your entourage will have to stay out here.”
Syffox nodded. “Very well.” He turned towards his disciples. “Smile and be pleasant. I’ll take care of everything.” He gave them a quick grin and then followed the officer into the darkness of the hall interior.
Once inside the great hall, Syffox’s eyes were slow to adjust. He continued following the officer, confidently but blindly. The officer nodded curtly and then left the ancient cleric alone at the courtroom’s centre. The sound of the officer’s hard boots echoed off the walls in the surrounding silence. Syffox waited to be addressed while his eyes resolved the darkened features around him.
He found himself at the centre of a great court chamber. The three walls before him were lined with two tiers of solid wooden banisters hiding benches behind them. Doorways in each corner of the hall led to administration chambers. Engraved in the banisters were emblems of differing designs—what Syffox assumed to be household symbols of the city lords. On the walls above were symbols and artefacts of the army: banners of honoured regiments and weapons and shields of fallen heroes. Some artefacts contained markings and symbols vastly different than the rest. These were trophies of captured lands.
What space on the walls that was not adorned with artefacts held shields of the regular army corps—placeholders for future conquests. Creating a following for a Goddess of life and peace here would be difficult to say the least. He wished he had some time to observe the people of Kundz but doubted strangers could walk freely in this city.
The hall was mostly empty, with only a few places occupied by attending lords. Syffox was glad he wasn’t interrupting a busy meeting. He suspected these orderly governors did not take well to interruptions.
As the ringing of the retreating officer’s boots finally faded, a single lord at the centre of the hall stood to address their strange guest. The guard who had escorted Syffox and his missionaries through the city stood behind the lord. He leaned in and whispered into the lord’s ear. With his magic, Syffox could hear the guard’s voice. “He’s the one that shot the rabbits. And he still has his bow.” The lord took notice of that last statement and nodded slightly at the guard.
