Sunset of Lantonne Page 5

  Ilarra glowered and ignored him, opening a sheaf of parchment pages that she had been writing on throughout the trip. Her original thought had been to fully document the region’s interesting areas for when she returned home, but she found herself staring at such gems as, “These uncivil brutes seem unable to make any food that is not bread, water, or gruel.” A lack of anything inspiring had resulted in a great number of useless scribbles that she had continued just to keep her mind off of the journey. On one sheet, she even found a doodle of Raeln standing on top of a defeated dragon…though she could not even remember when she had made that awful drawing.

  “Most of these people are heading this way for work near the larger villages or Lantonne itself,” the man continued, as if unconcerned whether anyone was listening to him. The sharp staccato to his words made Ilarra wonder where he hailed from. It vaguely reminded her of the gypsy accent, but it was more precise in its pattern. “You are the only one—aside from myself, of course—not looking for a new profession or home.”

  Glaring over her notebook, Ilarra answered coolly, “I am looking for work. You don’t know me, sir. Please talk to someone else.”

  The robed man laughed and leaned back against the side of the wagon, pulling back his hood to reveal that he was a middle-aged human with a completely shaved head and black tattoos near his eyes, running down into his cheeks. The style was unlike any Ilarra had seen before and set her on-edge, despite his welcoming smile. The tribal people that occasionally raided her home also had a fondness for tattoos, though she could see that these were very different and this man seemed hardly the sort to wear animal hides.

  “You lie, though I do not hold it against you.” His eyes drifted over her, before darting to another passenger who started to interject something. The other man closed his mouth quickly. “Humor me for a moment, girl. There is little else to amuse myself with on this trip than guessing at the purposes of others or gambling with the gypsies, which will make me a poor man all too quickly. This helps pass the time.”

  “Then continue talking to yourself,” Ilarra snapped, rolling up the pile of parchments and tying them off with a thin leather cord. She looked around for Raeln but could not see him on either side of the wagon, where he normally could be found loping along. “My reason for traveling is no concern of yours.”

  “I did not say I was concerned.”

  The man leaned out a window on his side of the wagon, blocking the view of an older man who had been staring blankly at the horizon. Smirking, the robed man looked back at Ilarra.

  “You travel wearing dirty clothing, like the rest of us,” he noted, gesturing toward her long dress, which she had bought specifically for the journey. “However, yours is sewn with cloth made from the vegetation we passed a week or so ago…that indicates you lived in that area, rather than merely passing through. The seams are done well for this region, indicating a skilled seamstress did the work. I would hazard that you come from wealth and wish to hide that.”

  An old woman opened her eyes and glanced over at Ilarra as though evaluating her outfit to confirm that man’s guesses. It was all Ilarra could do to ignore the woman as she self-consciously smoothed the simple dress, wishing she had found something more plain for the journey. Her father had warned her to dress as much like the plains farmers as possible to help avoid thieves, but she had clearly not been careful enough.

  “The parchment you scribble on is a ram skin, rather than the cheaper and more common sheep’s skin used in these parts,” he continued, smiling a bit more as Ilarra covered the parchment with her hand. “Given the ink stains around your nails you have attempted to hide, I would hazard that you are going to Lantonne to study, rather than to find work.”

  “Who are you?” Ilarra demanded, wondering if she needed to call out for Raeln. This man was beginning to really make her nervous, and with the other passengers starting to pay attention, she might need the help getting away from him. Still, she had no desire to see Raeln beat the man to a bloody pulp just yet.

  “The rest of us brought food and water, as well as some clothing and a few possessions,” the robed man added, ignoring her. “You brought books and very little in the way of supplies. That indicates either poverty, which I’ve already ruled out, or the anticipation of a place to stay. I stand by my guess.”

  Ilarra did not know his place of origin, but it was certainly an uncivilized one, if he were so willing to pry into the matters of others. The tattoos, in particular, made her wonder where he might have come from. They looked vaguely like the symbols used to indicate patterns in magical flow that students were taught from, though they had no meaning she could discern.

  “Calm yourself, child,” the man said smoothly, seemingly trying to wave aside her unspoken concerns. “I think we’re headed to the same place. You will come to no harm, so you do not need to call for your manservant.”

  The man sat there watching her for some time as Ilarra debated how to respond to him, if at all. His eyes were cold and seemed to study everything the same way she had once seen her father study a butterfly pinned to a table. Even the other travelers seemed to notice this and shifted their soft conversations so they could avoid being under that scrutiny.

  “Though it’s none of your business, human,” she began trying to puff herself up to counteract the nervousness the man had put into her, “I’m apprenticed to the towers of high magic in the city. I certainly doubt we’re heading to the same place, given their dislike of foreigners.”

  The robed human laughed dryly and nodded. When his mirth was met by Ilarra’s attempt at a regal stare, he stifled his chuckles and cleared his throat.

  “I am sorry to be so rude,” he explained. “Where I come from, most of our people are educated in some form of magic. I laugh at your lands’ desire to sequester all the knowledge in dramatically-named places and not at you or your situation. I apologize. I hope your towers are most educational and I will trouble you no further today.”

  The man was silent after that, staring off at the horizon like the other people in the wagon. Still, Ilarra was nervous and hoped it was not showing. Among her fellow residents of Hyeth education and partnering with wildlings like Raeln had been their means of survival against the clans of aggressive barbarian tribes. Having her status as an apprentice of Lantonne’s wizards mocked left a bad taste in her mouth.

  Even as she contemplated getting off the wagon entirely to hike the rest of the way regardless of the distance, Ilarra heard the call from somewhere farther up the wagon train that a city was in sight. Instantly, all concerns about the man were forgotten as excitement over their arrival overtook her.

  She leaned as far out the side of the wagon as she could, just barely making out a faint structure in the distance. The thin groupings of trees in this part of the plains barely allowed the city to be visible at their distance. By Ilarra’s guess, they were still a day out given how tall the tower in the middle of Lantonne was rumored to be.

  Rudeness and hurt feelings forgotten in that moment, Ilarra watched the speck in the distance slowly grow as evening set. The massive city gradually took over the horizon, making her ignore everything else in wonder at its sheer size.

  When she woke the next morning—somewhat less sick than she had been the whole trip—she could see the thin line of the city’s walls and its single great tower keep. That tower bore two side spires that could only be accessed from the main structure. These were wherein she had heard the wizards taught apprentices. It was where she was to live, until she either mastered what could be taught, or she was thrown out as a failure.

  Years of her father’s—albeit basic—teachings of magic had finally paid off. She was where she wanted to be and people like the robed human would soon learn to respect her. Maybe not within their lives but certainly by the end of hers, people would know of her. She could just feel it.

  During the long morning, the wagons trundled past a small and desolate village set far from the main city of Lantonne,
but Ilarra only had eyes for the large city itself. She heard the other passengers talking about it, but she could not be bothered with anything but Lantonne itself.

  By noon, the wagon began to move through the outlying city of Lantonne. For nearly a mile, they traveled down the streets of the peasant city where the poor and those of lower status resided, outside the protection of the smaller walled section of the city.

  Between distance and the thousands of people moving about, the wagons were slowed considerably. It took until well into the afternoon before they pulled through the gates of the central city, Ilarra leaning out over the edge of the wagon the whole time, gaping in amazement at the vastness of it all. Compared to Hyeth, even a single street in the outer city was huge.

  As the wagon pulled to a stop in the large courtyard at the foot of the central tower, Ilarra hopped down and looked up into the sky, grinning at the flat top so high above her. She was so wrapped up in it that she very nearly missed the others hurrying to gather their things and head away from the tower, even as she wondered at exactly where in that huge structure she would soon live.

  Looking over her shoulder, Ilarra found that the wagons were already unloaded, largely by dumping any contents that had not been claimed onto the ground. While others hurried about, trying to locate all their belongings in the large piles before they vanished, Raeln stood off to one side with Ilarra’s stacks of books and few bags of personal items beside him. None of the other travelers went anywhere near him and with good reason.

  Raeln’s pale blue eyes watched everyone who came near him, while his ears constantly twitched and turned, following those he could not watch. The one time Ilarra saw a man approach him, Raeln gave them man a stern look and the man hurried away without a word. Even dressed in the lightweight elven-style clothing he had donned after brushing the blood from his fur as they departed Hyeth, Raeln looked like a vicious warrior when he glowered.

  Despite keeping an eye on anyone passing near, Raeln watched Ilarra, his tail wagging in mild annoyance or impatience. Ilarra recognized the silent prodding from the wildling, having lived with his “protection” and care for most of her life. He did not need to say anything for her to know she was being slow to act.

  Hurrying over, Ilarra picked up a heavy stack of books as Raeln picked up the remainder, as well as all her bags. From what she could tell, he was carrying more than she weighed…probably by a lot. Still, it was what he did, and there was little more she could do to help him without making multiple trips.

  Turning, Ilarra made for the entrance of the tower where guards stood, watching the people leaving the wagons. Behind her, she could hear Raeln’s bare feet thumping along, audible only with the addition of all the weight he was carrying. When she finally trudged up to the waiting guards, she heard Raeln grunt and set back down her belongings.

  “Could you open the door?” she asked, giving the two men a smile as she nodded at the massive wooden door to the tower. Shifting the books in her arms uncomfortably, she felt her smile fading as the men looked at each other and back at her without moving.

  Ilarra began fidgeting as the men watched her, trying to think back to whether she had been told to bring anything to prove membership in the school of magic. The letter sent to her father had contained no tokens or any mention of what to do when she arrived. This was simply unexpected.

  “Please?” she tried, glancing back at Raeln, who was glaring at the men. “I would like to get to my room in the tower before it gets too late…”

  “Tower’s closed until further notice,” the bearded man on the left told her, moving his halberd across the door, as if the words did not convey the meaning well enough to satisfy him. “War council’s in session. No one goes in or out without a school magister at their side or the king’s request for them to attend.”

  “War?” Ilarra asked nervously. “The war with Altis has been going on for longer than I’ve been alive. Why all the secrecy now?”

  The other man rolled his eyes and took a step toward Ilarra, forcing her to back up. Behind her, she heard Raeln growl softly.

  “Doesn’t matter why, girl, the place is closed to you for now,” the man told her, though he kept his attention on Raeln. “You need to leave.”

  Ilarra turned partway and stared off toward the city gates and the vast poorer city outside. From what she could see now that she was looking for it, a great many people were being herded toward the gates, including nearly everyone from the wagon she had come in on. The only person left that was not being hustled to the outer walls was the robed man that had bothered Ilarra the day before, standing patiently near where the wagons had been, his hands clasped behind his back as he politely waited for Ilarra to finish speaking with the guards.

  “Where am I supposed to go, if I can’t get in?” she finally asked the guard. “I came all this way to learn…”

  “Don’t care,” snapped the man, waving her away. “You need to leave the inner city immediately. Go find an inn or go back to wherever you came from. Doesn’t change the rules either way. These gates are staying closed for the next few days.”

  Sighing, Ilarra turned to walk away, Raeln hurriedly grabbing the rest of their things before moving to walk at her side.

  As they lumbered away carrying everything Ilarra had in the world, she slowed briefly as she heard the guards behind her say, “Welcome to Lantonne, ambassador. Go right in.”

  Turning toward the keep, Ilarra saw the robed man walk through the open doors just before they were closed. With the doors sealed once again, Ilarra felt her last hope of seeing the bright future she was promised suddenly die.

  “Come on, Raeln,” Ilarra said sadly, trudging toward the gates. “We need to find somewhere before nightfall. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

  Ilarra knew there was no point in trying to discuss the situation with Raeln or wait for his answer. He would never answer, that much she knew. The last time he had spoken was to give his vow not to speak.

  Ilarra soon reached the gate that separated the central city with its towering keep and the outer village that encircled Lantonne. Without having to talk to anyone, she knew immediately that they were in a lot of trouble even that far from the keep.

  Not only were the streets packed with people, even as late as it was getting, but the occasional inns that she could see every few blocks appeared to be the milling point of the vast majority of people. Twice, she steered herself and Raeln toward an inn, only to spot the owner or employees standing out front, shouting, “We’re full! Sod off!”

  “This is pretty serious if this many people are getting kicked out of the city,” she mused in Raeln’s general direction, to which he nodded while still watching the crowds for threats.

  Turning toward the western end of the village, Ilarra started to head for the next inn when she heard Raeln grunt angrily. She looked back just in time to see three young dwarven men running past Raeln and she saw the flash of blades. In that brief moment, Raeln’s belt pouches with their remaining coins vanished as did several of the books he carried under one arm. When Raeln tried to grab at the thieves, another dwarf darted past from another direction, snatching the bags from Raeln’s left arm.

  Standing still and staring in the direction of the fleeing dwarves in utter shock, Raeln blinked and began slowly checking what all had been taken.

  “Forget about them, Raeln,” Ilarra called back to him, grabbing his arm to hurry him along before he decided to run after them. Knowing his dislike of people who refused to abide by laws, she honestly expected him to chase the dwarven children down. “We need to get somewhere safe, or we won’t have anything left.”

  Almost on cue, someone jostled Ilarra and she felt the weight of the books she carried suddenly lighten. She looked down and saw that out of the five books she had been holding, only two remained.

  Clutching what little she had left to her chest as she began running toward the last inn on the street, Ilarra began to feel as though the thick c
rowds were a distinct threat. She avoided getting close to anyone if she could help it, scurrying as fast as she could up to the inn’s door.

  As Ilarra reached for the partially open door, a heavyset woman came out, giving her a dark stare. Shaking her head, the woman stepped onto the top step of the building, blocking Ilarra’s path.

  “We’re full up, too,” the woman announced, loud enough that others could hear. “Get moving, kid. No inns with space around here.”

  “Where can I find a room in Lantonne?” asked Ilarra hopefully, trying to smile in a way that might make the woman take pity on her. More importantly, she hoped that the woman might not notice whatever angry look Raeln was probably giving her.

  Instead of pity, the woman gave Ilarra an annoyed frown.

  “Anyone without real money is being put out of the city proper at night, so couldn’t even begin to guess,” the woman told her and then waved away another group that came toward the inn. “King’s setting up for an attack. Everyone who isn’t important has to stay out, at least until the enemy is in sight. It’s not fair, but that’s how it is. If you’d been here yesterday, you’d have been fine. Today…well…you might have to just go camp on the plains and hope the army doesn’t march over you. Nobody’s got rooms left.”

  Ilarra felt nearly ready to cry, seeing the hundreds of people like herself all trying to scramble for the last rooms in the large city. The chances of her finding anything were slim, if even that good. Suddenly, she remembered something.

  “What about the village just outside Lantonne?” Ilarra asked the innkeeper, whose face crinkled in confusion. “North of the outer city. Would they have rooms?”

  Laughing, the woman nodded and replied, “Yeah, there’s rooms there. Good luck. I hear they’re cheap, too. Doubt they’d turn you away, girl.”