stood a wall that ran inland to sweep westward in a vast semicircle before returning to the shore. It encompassed all the sprawling city, and at each end there stood a pharos, like an aeldor’s keep in miniature. Penned within these ramparts there stood such a multitude of buildings as dwarfed all the towns I had seen on our journey. Madbry, Ynisvar, and Cambar might all have been set down here and gone unnoticed, so large was this marvelous place. On the riverside there was a harbor, jetties extending out from the long line of the wharf, myriad craft rocking at anchor, the dockside abustle. Farther back, past the docks and warehouses, splendid structures glittered in the early morning sun. I saw wide avenues, the greenery of parks, and spread across the rising flank of the hinterland, three enormous complexes of buildings. One I felt sure must be the College of the Mnemonikos, the others that of the sorcerers and the palace of the city’s commander, the koryphon.
I started as Cleton nudged me and said, “Close your mouth, Daviot. Or would you swallow it all?”
I nodded and smiled, and went on staring. To my left I heard Pyrdon say softly, “In the God’s name, I have never seen its like.”
“Save for Kherbryn, it has no like,” said Cleton, and grinned hugely. “I believe we shall enjoy ourselves here, my friends.”
I nodded again, lost for words, watching rapt as Kerym brought the
Cleton needed to nudge me again before I shifted from my observation, reminded that I had best secure my gear, which did not take long, so that by the time the gangplank was run out, we all three stood waiting, eager to go ashore.
I halted on the wharf, unsure what we should do next, thinking I should say something to our captain. For all I did not like him, he had surely brought us here safe and swift, even were it less for our sake than the winning of his wager. He resolved that problem readily enough, for he came after us down the gangplank and said, “Well, you’re here and my duty done. I bid you farewell.”
He ducked his head and turned to go, halted by Cleton, who demanded, “What do we do now, captain?”
Kerym frowned with ill grace and said, “Someone from the College will be here soon enough. Wait for him.”
He delayed no longer but waved and walked away, soon lost in the bustling throng. Cleton said, “Doubtless he’s anxious to collect his winnings. Well, no matter, save I’d not stand here like some lost sheep.”
“What else should we do?” asked Pyrdon.
Cleton’s eyes roved over the anchorage, settling on a tavern. “We could find ourselves breakfast,” he suggested.
“Is that a good idea?” Pyrdon shifted nervously from foot to foot. “What if the College sends for us and we’re not here?”
“I imagine we can find our own way to the College,” Cleton said. “Likely we’re early, and not yet expected.”
Pyrdon frowned, clearly ill at ease. Cleton grinned at me and asked, “How say you, Daviot? Do we stand here like goggling bumpkins, or eat and quench our thirst?”
I was tempted, though I was quite happy to study the activity around us, and thought Pyrdon correct in his caution. I mused a moment, then said, “Perhaps it were wiser we remain, Cleton. Likely the College knows of our arrival.”
“I shall stay here,” said Pyrdon firmly.
“Then does someone come for us,” said Cleton, “you can tell them Daviot and I may be found in yon alehouse. Eh, Daviot?”
He grinned a challenge. I looked a moment at the earnest Pyrdon, then at the smiling Cleton, torn between sensible caution and the promise of adventure. Cleton’s cheerful disregard of authority was infectious. I shrugged and said, “I
“Then come on,” Cleton said, and waved an expansive arm, “and I shall buy you breakfast.”
I hesitated only a moment longer, then shouldered my bag and went with Cleton to the tavern.
The sign outside depicted a lusciously breasted woman clad in nothing more than her long golden hair, her lower body a sweeping fishtail. I gazed, wondering if such a creature might truly exist. There were letters inscribed across the bottom of the board that Cleton translated: “The Mermaid.”
“Can you read?” I asked.
He nodded and said, “A little,” but his attention was focused on the alehouse.
It was early yet, but the place was busy, loud with voices and the clinking of tankards, redolent of ale and tobacco and cooking food. We found a space at the long serving counter and ordered beer, then Cleton asked what fare was on offer. I let him choose and found myself soon confronted with a platter of sausages still spitting fat and warm bread. I had never tasted a sausage before, and I ate with gusto, studying the other customers.
They were an exotic bunch: as many Changed as Truemen, though the Changed occupied tables to one side of the smoky room, the central aisle apparently a tacit demarcation line. I saw sailors and longshoremen, soldiers wearing Durbrecht’s plaid, traders and merchants, women both serving and sitting with the men. I drank it all in as thirstily as I swallowed my ale, thinking all the time: I
And Cleton, for all he was son of an aeldor, was little better, staring around with a huge smile, not speaking, but like me simply watching and listening.
It was impossible in the din to hear more than fragments of conversation, but what I could make out was entirely concerned with the Sky Lords’ attack. I gathered that the three airboats had perished, but some small amount of damage been done. I listened as avidly as I watched and so did not see Pyrdon come pushing through the throng until he arrived before us, his freckled face flushed, his eyes anxious.
“You’re to come immediately,” he declared. “The warden’s waiting.”
I snatched up my bag; Cleton drained the last of his mug. We followed Pyrdon out to find a tall man, his sandy hair plaited, standing tapping a short caduceus impatiently against his thigh. He was very thin, his tunic seeming over-large on his narrow shoulders, and his face was cadaverous, the eyes that fixed us deep-sunk. I was minded of small burrowing animals peering from their lairs.
“I am Ardyon,” he announced without preamble, “warden of the College. You may address me as Warden or by my name. You are … ?”
We identified ourselves, and he nodded, extending a hand. I thought for a moment he would greet us formally, but Cleton offered his token of introduction, and I dug mine from beneath my shirt. Ardyon studied the seals on each disc, then nodded his skull-like head in silent confirmation and said, “Why did you not wait as your companion did?”
His voice was cold as his stare, and I fidgeted awkwardly, lost for words. Cleton smiled cheerfully and answered, “Kerym offered us no breakfast, and we deemed it as well we acquaint ourselves with something of Durbrecht. We left Pyrdon on watch.”
“Whilst you drank ale,” said Ardyon.
“And broke our fast,” said Cleton.
Ardyon sniffed. It was impossible to read his expression, but I thought it likely disapproving. In the same toneless voice he said, “Amongst my duties is the meeting of newcomers. That is but one task to which I must attend. There are others, as you’ll learn, but foremost is the maintenance of discipline amongst the Mnemonikos- elect. This”-he flourished the caduceus-“is the badge of my office. You will obey any Trueman bearing this emblem. Do you understand?”
We nodded and assured him it was so.
“Good,” he said. “Now understand this. When you are sent for, you attend. You do not go exploring the alehouses of Durbrecht, or any other of the city’s many pleasures. You wait. You do as you are bid and no more; nor any less. Remember that, and your sojourn here shall not be too unpleasant. Now follow me.”
He spun about, spindleshanks propelling him swiftly away: we hastened to follow. Cleton and I exchanged a glance, my friend exaggerating an expression of remorse. I felt abashed, and even Pyrdon, though he had not been included in the reprimand, looked distinctly nervous. I thought it an inauspicious beginning.
But my doubts faded as we traversed the streets of the city, overwhelmed by the wonders all about me.
