Chapter 15 #3
Drake finally tugged the cape off of me, wrapping it around himself instead even though the heat wafting through the streets was oppressive.
The storm had only just settled and people were still remaining indoors in case of errant winds kicking it up again.
The tinkling windchimes sounded occasionally like they were calling out a farewell to Karu, the long-lost god of the storm, and a shiver tracked down my spine at the noise, causing me to cast a look over my shoulder as I felt like eyes were upon me.
In moments like that, I found it easy to buy in to the idea of deities and magic, all the things we’d once laid claim to before the Fallen had cursed us.
Sand coated the streets and buildings, blown into corners and forming tiny dunes which had turned the city into an artwork of beige and gold.
The morning sun beat down on our backs as Drake and the others stood around me in a crescent, and I felt the weight of their expectations laying thickly upon my fate.
It only took that one glance at the group of them to see my death waiting in their eyes, and it was beyond clear to me that they would gladly deliver it if I failed to hold up my end of the bargain we’d struck.
“Lead the way then, Cassius.” Drake held out a hand, gesturing for me to go ahead, the corner of his lips lifting as he noted my hesitation.
He was right about that at least – I wasn’t used to this part of the city, the ramshackle buildings and twisting alleyways could be easily confusing, but I was a royal guard and all I needed was a look at the sky to orient myself and figure out the direction we needed to take.
I moved along the street, gaining my bearings before taking a left towards the edge of the city. The gang followed on silent feet and anyone who spotted us quickly shrank into the shadows, clearly knowing well enough to stay away from these Fae and whatever crimes they were embroiled in.
Everything about Drake and his men screamed trouble, and I supposed the way I was dressed now marked me as one of them too.
I'd always been gazed upon with respect and intrigue, but now the civilians’ expressions darkened and their eyes widened as they looked upon me, telling me they didn't think anything of the sort about me anymore.
The Forty Thieves were fear embodied, their foul deeds written on the streets of this city in blood, and no upstanding citizen would dare cross them willingly.
I will get a decent life back after this is done. I have to.
“We will need to exit the city perimeter. Do you have a particular means of crossing the outer walls?” I asked as we drew close to the southern gates, wondering how these men usually navigated the guards who would be on duty there.
Did they have another secret tunnel they used to come and go via?
Was there a passageway that led them out into the desert away from the watching eyes of the city guards?
Drake snorted in amusement and shook his head. “Yeah, we have a real simple way of coming and going,” he said, jerking his chin in a command for me to follow and leading the way.
We slipped out of the side alleys and joined the large crowd of people who were either heading towards the gates or coming in through them.
There were travelling caravans and merchants from all across The Twelve Kingdoms, come to buy and sell at the markets and my stomach growled loudly as we passed through the scents of baked goods on their way to be sold within the city.
I spotted the hired mercenaries and guards among them who had travelled with the merchants to protect them from the creatures which roamed freely beyond the walls of the city, and I noticed more than a few fresh wounds along with a wrapped body which lay on the back of one of the wagons.
Travelling through the Lyrian, even along the stone roads always came with more than a little risk to those who did so, and I wasn’t much looking forward to encountering any of those hazardous monsters myself.
To my surprise, Drake didn’t turn from the main path, instead striding right down the centre of the wide road, his black cape billowing out behind him as a gust of wind blew in from the open gates.
The way he stalked into the crowd somehow made everyone notice him, his broad frame moving with an arrogant kind of swagger which almost seemed like a dare, challenging anyone who was fool enough to try and get in his way.
People moved aside to let him pass, encouraging horses and camels to the edges of the street as if they could sense the trouble clinging to his flesh and wanted no part in it.
Like they could sense the danger rolling off of him with nothing more than a single look.
The sand was thick on the ground here and men were working to sweep it aside, causing a little storm of sand-filled air to whip up around the legs of passers-by.
The other gang members followed Drake, nudging me into motion when I hesitated, and we all strode straight towards the heavy wooden gates which sat open amid the expanse of the tall white walls which ringed the city.
My heart began to beat harder in anticipation of what lay beyond these walls.
The endless miles of the Lyrian Desert were perilous for many reasons, from the simple lack of shelter, from the baking sun, to the far greater dangers of the monsters who resided there.
Fire drakes roamed the skies and basilisks lurked beneath the sand. If death wasn’t on wings above then it would come from below, and we had to be prepared for anything.
Fire drakes were relatively harmless for most of the year, but during mating season they grew volatile, and they often flew close to the city on the hunt for food.
Which was one of the reasons why the walls were fitted with crossbows large enough to cut them down in their tracks before they ever made it far enough to rain down hell on our people.
I’d never been far into the desert, but I recalled my days of training one mile beyond its border, carrying a bag of rocks on my back while Captain Marik worked us to the brink of exhaustion, our only reward a cup of water every eight hours.
Suffice to say, it was not my favourite place in the world and that was without having faced most of the monsters that lived out there.
At least not in the wild. Marik had been rather fond of capturing beasts for the purpose of facing us in the training pit.
I would never forget the first time I’d stood in that hole alone, my bare feet sinking into the sand and the cool kiss of a sword in my palm while two angry red eyes gazed back at me from the dark.
Guards moved between the carts and travellers as they checked them over, collecting any fees which were required from the vendors, but none of them looked our way as we strode towards them.
In fact, the closer we got, the clearer it became that they were specifically looking anywhere but at us, and my brow furrowed.
Either these men were terrified or well bribed because they didn’t once look our way, and despite the strict rules in place about travellers coming and going through the city gates, it was abundantly clear that they weren’t going to do a damn thing about the passage of a bunch of cutthroats walking straight out of the city right beneath their noses.
I was caught between outrage at the fact that these criminals clearly held their own power within the emperor’s domain, and relief that we had made it beyond the city limits without so much as a raised voice to slow us down.
One we had exited the city, we continued straight down the southern road, passing the long line of men and women waiting to get inside the walls as we strode along the cobbles and the sun grew ever hotter overhead.
A bloody war was taking place between the Forkens and the island stronghold of Quellioth in the south, and every day more and more refugees were arriving in Osaria, seeking a safe haven from the bloody battles that plagued their hometowns.
It was a long journey from their lands, and to avoid the Lyrian Desert, the journey was made even longer.
They had to cross the Forken Sea, then travel over land between the kingdoms of Rothstern and Berion to the flat plains in the south, then take the treacherous pass over the mountains known as the Serpent’s Spine.
Some of them headed to the other cities closer to their home, but the legends of the empire’s capital always drew many to Osaria despite the extra weeks or months that entailed on the road.
My gaze fell to the bare feet of the children queuing with their mothers and fathers, taking shelter from the sun in the shadow cast by the wall.
My chest tightened knowing that many of them would be turned away, sent onto the next city, or the next, all because Magdor had declared there was no more room for refugees, when she knew as well as I did that that wasn’t the case.
Perhaps they’d find better fortune elsewhere though because the only life available to them here would likely be a poor one.
And at least the guards were letting the market men barter with them, roaming up and down with baskets of food.
Though as I passed one man demanding a woman give him the necklace around her throat for a simple bread roll, I found my feet coming to a firm halt behind him.
“You will offer a fair price, baker,” I growled and he turned sharply, taken by surprise, his eyes narrowing as he took me in.
“Says ‘oo?” he snapped, his yellowed teeth making my nose wrinkle.
“Says a r-” I cut myself off, about to announce myself as a royal guard like a damn fool. “Says one of The Forty,” I hissed and his eyes widened, flicking over to the men I was with who were walking on ahead of me.