I shrugged and flashed her a smile. “It’d be nice.”
The boat’s captain appeared and bowed to Kumi. His dark complexion, a long fin along the top of his head, and patches of scales running down his neck marked him as one of the Qihin Clan.
“Your Highness,” he said to Kumi, “we will soon be at the Hyng’ohr Docks. I suggest that you and your companions make ready so that we can ensure swift disembarkment and be on our way.”
“Of course,” she said. “Thank you, Captain Toulo.”
We gathered our weapons and haversacks full of supplies and assembled near the front of the boat. I took special care with my weapons, the Sundered Heart Sword and the Depthless Dream Trident. They were spirit weapons, the homes of ancient and powerful dragon spirits who could lend me power and advice. It would have been better to lose all of my clothes and food overboard than to misplace either of them.
The boat slowed as I caught my first real look at the Gonki Province. It was home to the clan of the same name, along with Steadfast Horn, an earth guild. At the water’s edge, docks of sandstone and sun-bleached wood played host to an assortment of craft from other clans. Familiar Qihin magic boats bobbed beside vast, black-painted sailing junks out of the south. Adobe huts and storehouses lined the docks, some whitewashed, others sandblasted to a pale yellow-brown that matched the local dirt.
“The outskirts of Hyng’ohr City,” Kumi explained.
Past the docks stood the sandstone walls of Hyng’ohr proper. The city stretched back from the sea up one side of an arid valley, flanked by sharp peaks of rock. Halfway up a mountain, a colossal fortress with a domed central citadel loomed over the houses below.
Our boat slid to a stop with only the gentlest knock against the docks. While the crew secured their vessel with thick ropes, I leaped onto the quay. The others followed, Kumi and Vesma stepping nimbly down as Kegohr landed with a thud. The human crew of a nearby fishing boat stared at the half-ogre with open curiosity. For a moment, I thought they were taken by his powerful build and tusked face. But then a pair of orcs gave him similar looks, and I remembered the kinds of reactions Wilds engendered. They were half-breeds, an intermingling of monstrous and civilized races. A pure-blooded ogre wouldn’t have drawn half the attention Kegohr did.
If he noticed the looks he was getting, he didn’t acknowledge them.
“Where to, chief?” he asked me.
“I’d say we follow the huge city walls until we find a gate.” I pointed up a road to the mighty stone structure ahead.
Kumi and Vesma trailed behind me as Kegohr and I pressed forward.
“This is gonna be good,” he said as we walked. “See a new city, fight some new monsters.”
He practically bounced along the road, with one hand holding his bag and the other gripping the massive mace over his shoulder. With all that energy and his long legs, the rest of us had to hurry to keep up.
Kumi’s eyebrows drew together. “Doesn’t this place seem a little off to you?”
“Off how?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Kumi answered. “Maybe it’s just the dryness getting to me.”
“No guards at the dock,” Vesma observed as she scanned the area. “That’s odd. Even for a place this naturally defensible.”
“I agree,” I said. “We should keep a look out for trouble.”
As we ascended the road toward the city, I could make out more of Hyng’ohr and the surrounding area. Down the other side of the valley, a round tower stood on top of a natural pillar of rock and overlooked the sands below. Beyond it, fragments of a village were visible, half-buried in the waste of the desert. The wind carried the heat down the valley and straight into our faces as we followed Kegohr. I tasted dirt and felt grit scour my skin as a gust swirled the dirt around us.
“You seen any places like this where you came from?” Kegohr asked me.
“Not in real life. Though the valley looks like something out of a spaghetti western.”
“A what now?”
“It’s a sort of a story, about a lone hero fighting on the frontier.”
“So, pretty much what would happen if we ran off and left you to get beaten up alone?” Vesma said.
“People in westerns usually win the day.”
“Shame you’re not in a western then.”
I laughed as we continued up the road to Hyng’ohr City. We had the route to ourselves. It seemed as if the traders and fishermen we’d seen were using the docks as a stopping off point and a place to deal with each other rather than unload and transport goods into Hyng’ohr.
“I read about the defenses of Hyng’ohr in Master Kyu’s books,” Vesma said. “Those gates are made from steelwood trees out of the northern provinces. One of the city’s original rulers had them brought down the coast. The wood was so hard that he had to have Augmenters use their magic to cut the planks because saws blunted before they could get through.”
When we reached the city’s fortifications, there were guards on the battlements above and standing in front of the gates. All of them were dressed in a mix of yellows and browns over hardened leather breastplates and greaves. They carried two-handed weapons, including axes, maces, and hammers. None looked pleased to see guests arriving at the city’s inner fortifications.
“What do you want?” the leading guard asked as we approached. He stood in front of the barred gates with a group of other guards. Like the others, he wore a turban of yellow cloth. A metal star on the front of the headpiece marked him as the commanding officer.
I smiled as best I could and kept my hands well away from the sword at my side and the trident on my back. There was no sense in giving offense when none was needed. Whatever they thought
