Chapter 25 #2
“Oh, that. The founder of the original city was named Archen, so when it spread out, it became Archenhold. Archon is a title meaning ‘ruler.’ The two aren’t actually related, it just worked out that way.”
The Dervish scowled. “If that hadn’t been an interesting story, I suspect I’d be annoyed.”
“Yes, but it had tree-krakens.” Edmund’s smile was more open and joyous than it had been for days, and the Dervish fought down the urge to return it in kind.
The conversation had brought them nearly to the city gates.
They joined the stream of people flowing inward, some moving quickly on horseback, some weighed down with baskets of produce.
Two men carrying a sedan chair jogged by a carriage with important-looking seals on the doors, which was trapped behind a wagon drawn by unimpressed oxen.
Ancestors, but he’d missed the city.
No one seemed to care that they were entering.
There was a wall somewhere off in the distance, but the city had clearly outgrown it.
Guardsmen were scattered along the main road, but their job seemed to involve directing traffic more than repelling invaders.
Edmund had his hand clamped on Sweetness’s bridle as if someone might attempt to abscond with the wretched beast.
The Dervish hunched his shoulders. “So we’re going to a temple, eh?”
“Yes, but I promise it has more lawyers than priests.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You said you had no problem with lawyers.”
“Yes, but I’ve committed quite a few crimes since then.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. I have a friend there.”
“Uh-huh. How good a friend?”
“Oh, we’ve exchanged lots of letters. I’m sure they’ll help.”
The city looked like … well, like a city.
The main roads were broad, but the streets and alleys that budded off from them were narrow, in the way of a city that was either old or hadn’t had any recent disastrous fires.
Buildings climbed three and four stories in places, and every gap revealed a thicket of roofs in various styles.
The overall color came from a mellow honey stone, probably quarried nearby, interspersed with gray brick buildings with blue-gray clay shingles.
Edmund pulled them down a side street to get out of the main flow of traffic.
The cobblestones were a darker gray-brown, probably stained by innumerable wheels, though the recent rains had washed most of the mud away.
Children pelted through the streets, shouting to each other, and grocers had rolled up their shutters to display their wares.
Not a bad-looking place. Although we’re probably in at least a medium-rent area here.
A few minutes later, the street dead-ended into another, broader thoroughfare. Edmund turned right and gestured. “There it is. The Temple of the White Rat.”
If the Dervish had been expecting an enormous marble building filled with incense and chanting, he was disappointed.
The White Rat’s temple had walls around it, but they were pierced by gates and doors every few yards, and a stream of people went in and out.
When they stepped through the gate, a little old lady with bright eyes looked them over and said, “Need directions, dear?”
“We’re here to see one of the lawyers, please,” Edmund said.
“That building over there, around the side. Though you’ll want to put your horses in the paddock first. The doors aren’t that big.” She gave them a smile with only a few remaining teeth.
They obligingly took the animals around to a stable that, while decently sized, could not have held mounts for even a hundredth of the people in the temple.
The Dervish guessed that it was primarily for visitors to keep their animals in, and that the main stables—if there were any—were at the edge of the city.
This was borne out by the presence of a single carriage behind the stable, and not the dozens that, presumably, priests and lawyers would need to go about their business in style.
Although looking around the compound, he wasn’t sure if style was the thing that concerned them most.
It was huge, bigger than it looked from the outside.
A two-story building with a broad covered porch stood directly ahead with people lined up outside it, clearly waiting their turn for something.
Alms? Blessings? Legal counsel? The Dervish couldn’t guess.
A squat building off to the left seemed to serve as a central depot for people picking up and dropping off assorted wares.
The Dervish watched a crate, a basket of fish, and an enormous amphora go in, and six cabbages, two bolts of fabric, and a toddler come out, although the toddler was immediately seized by an exasperated-looking girl who had Older Sister stamped across her features as clearly as if it had been written in ink.
Other structures were tucked into corners and along walls, and what looked like an entire city block’s worth of apartments filled the back of the compound.
The Dervish had to scan the whole place twice before he saw something that actually looked like a temple, and it was one of the smallest buildings there.
“A gnole will wait with a mule and a horse. A gnole doesn’t trust city humans not to borrow a horse.”
“If they’re not safe here, they’re not safe anywhere, but they’ll probably be happier with someone they know.” Edmund opened the paddock gate and let Dog Violet lead Sweetness and Greathoof inside.
“What now?” the Dervish asked, looking over the purposeful milling that seemed to fill the compound.
“We’ll talk to my friend and see about help getting Francis.
” Edmund headed toward the building that the old woman had pointed to.
It was also large, also with a covered portico, and had a line, though a much smaller one.
Edmund threaded his way around a knot of people and approached a man who stood with the slouched authority common to security guards, minor officials, and line-wranglers the world over.
“Excuse me,” Edmund said. “I’m looking for a lawyer named Zale?”
The man looked Edmund over, then the Dervish, clearly unimpressed with either. “Is the solicitor-sacrosanct expecting you?”
“Solicitor—” A huge grin broke over Edmund’s face. “You mean they passed the exams? I knew they would, but in our last letter, they were telling me how nervous they were and how they were sure they were going to forget everything. Oh, I’m so pleased!”
The official thawed visibly. “Spent the month before asking half the staff to read off questions to ’em whenever we passed ’em in the halls. Mine was something about beehives. Yeah, go to that building over there, up the steps, second door on the right. That’s Zale’s office.”
As they climbed the indicated steps, the Dervish reflected on security, lack thereof, and then decided it wasn’t his problem.
The door wasn’t locked. Edmund knocked. A muffled voice said, “Come in!”
They went in. It was a small room, dominated by a large desk covered in papers. The stacks were so large and settled that it did not look as if they had been placed so much as that the few gaps between them had been eroded away by natural processes, rather like canyons.
“Zale?” Edmund asked.
The person behind the desk had dark hair frosted with silver and slim, neat bones. They looked up. “Yes? Can I help you?”
Edmund smiled tentatively. “I’m Edmund. We’ve exchanged letters?”
Zale’s eyes went wide and they leapt to their feet. “Learned Edmund?”
“Yes, I—”
The rest was buried as the solicitor-sacrosanct flung their arms around Edmund and slapped him repeatedly on the back. “Learned Edmund! It’s so wonderful to finally meet you! Oh, why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“It was a bit abrupt…”
The Dervish felt a pang of something that was absolutely not jealousy, how absurd to think it might be, just because these two obviously had been corresponding for years and the lawyer, at least, was ecstatic to meet Edmund in the flesh.
Don’t be ridiculous. You should be happy for him.
Much better this way. It’s not like he’s your type.
But is he Zale’s type?
Edmund disentangled himself, beaming, and said, “Though I’m afraid I’m just Edmund now. I … err … left the temple.”
“About damn time,” Zale said, rising enormously in the Dervish’s estimation.
“Yes, well. Oh goodness, I have so much to tell you. To tell someone. So much has happened on this trip, and we’ll need the Rat’s help, and— Oh, Zale, this is my friend, the Dervish.”
“The … Dervish?” The lawyer scanned him up and down, looking more than a little astonished. While the Dervish had astonished more than a few people with his looks, they usually didn’t seem quite so baffled by it.
“That’s my name, yes.”
“I see. This is going to sound very strange,” Zale said, “but are you by any chance an enchanted sword?”