Magic, he realized. Maiya had always said Fire magic had the greatest range of all the affinities. This must have been an anti-mejai defense measure.
Magic defense made sense, but what Vir hadn’t expected was the lack of prana, and it wasn’t just Ash Affinity. All affinities were present in similar quantities at Brij.
He’d expected more, but then again, prana densities were said to die off quickly as one traveled away from the Ash Boundary. Hiranya was simply too far to reap from abundant prana.
Guess I’ll need to stay focused on conserving my prana usage, he thought with some disappointment. He’d been lusting after Blade Projection and other powerful Talents lately.
As they crept closer to the walls, their sheer scale became clear. Built of enormous thick stone at least twenty paces in depth, countless crenellations decorated its ramparts. Vir even saw mounted soldiers patrolling up there, a testament to the structure’s size and durability.
The entrance to Daha was unlike anything Vir expected. Saran had a portcullis gate that guarded the city, but Daha was the capital. Though the city may have declined, its design and walls hearkened back to a more prosperous era.
Shivers crept down Vir’s back as the caravan passed through double portcullis gates. Attackers would find themselves in a living nightmare, trapped inside when the gates fell, helpless against arrows rained through the dozens of murder holes from above.
As if that wasn’t enough, the floor was a plate of metal. A false floor that no doubt dropped into some sort of gruesome pit far below.
They crossed through unimpeded, and ran straight into another wall, forcing them to take a sharp turn to the right. The space was so narrow that Param had to manually guide each of his two Ash’va, and Vir could almost touch both walls if he spread his arms out. Those entering from the other side squeezed past, and Vir hoped no Ash’va came, or they’d be stuck in a deadlock.
Looking up, Vir spotted archers manning the walls that surrounded them on three sides.
This is a gauntlet of death. Invaders would be decimated by defending arrow and mejai fire, bunched up and exposed with nowhere to hide.
Twenty paces later, they made another sharp, tight turn to the left, then another immediate left. Vir exhaled when the last right turn put them through double portcullis gates that finally led into the city proper.
“Hate it. Always an irritation, every challing time,” Param complained. “Typical of city builders. Defense first—convenience last. When was the last time this city was besieged, anyway?”
Even Neel didn’t like it, growing agitated on Bumpy’s back.
Looking back, Vir noted that the gauntlet prevented any large vehicles from passing through. Param’s wagons weren’t all that wide, and they’d barely fit. Which meant that siege weapons like battering rams likely wouldn’t either. They’d simply get stuck, and then the defenders would pick them off from above. An ingenious tactic to ensure the gates never fell.
If Vir hadn’t just come from the Warrens, he’d call the slums that bordered the entrance to the city squalid. But compared to the slums outside the city, these were markedly better. While dirt and dung littered the streets, the putrid smells were slightly less offensive here, the buildings sturdier.
Still, a slum was a slum. It wasn’t the best first impression for visitors to the city. Either Hiranya didn’t care about appearances, or they simply couldn’t do anything about it.
“Where are you headed?” Vir asked.
“Upper West Side. ’Tis where my shop is, and my home. I have enjoyed our time together, Neel. Should you ever need anything, please come find my shop. Param’s Pawn Peculiarities. Simple to remember, no?”
Vir nodded with a smirk. “Quite simple. I’m glad to have journeyed with you as well. It’s rare to find good company.”
“May fate allow our paths to cross again,” Param said, removing his hood and bowing his head. Rayali did the same, and Vir returned the gesture.
“Before I depart, could you tell me where to find the Mercenaries Brotherhood?” Vir said. “I have some business there.”
“Of course! Simply travel east to the Market Plaza and look south. Enormous building. Carved with many sculptures. Very difficult to miss.”
Vir thanked the couple and headed off on his own. It was time for him to register as a mercenary. And time to do some exploring.
65A BUMPKIN AFTER ALL
As much as Vir wanted to head straight to the Mercenaries Brotherhood building, traffic had other plans. He thought Saran was crowded. Saran wasn’t crowded—it was quaint.
Daha was downright packed, making it nearly impossible to move anywhere atop Bumpy.
“Whoa there, boy,” Vir said when Bumpy shivered. “I know it’s scary, but I need you to be brave for me, alright?”
The situation deteriorated the farther he penetrated into the city. What’s worse—the buildings grew larger as he left the slums behind, looming taller. While still nothing to write home about in terms of their construction quality—built mostly of wood and clay—some even reached up to five stories in height. It made Vir feel boxed in, corralled by the thronging masses with nowhere to escape.
And he wasn’t the only one struggling. Nearly everyone on mounts crawled forward amid the throng of people, cursing at the government for failing to improve the roads.
Giving up, Vir dismounted and lead Bumpy through the swarm on foot. A task easier said than done with the dozens of merchants hailing him from under their street-side awnings, the opportunistic urchins that hovered nearby, and people shoving him every which way.
Vir learned a lot from the angry voices around him. The thoroughfare had been overloaded for decades, but King Rayid hadn’t even lifted a finger to fix it.
There was no way Bumpy could manage. Vir needed to stable the Ash’va at the earliest opportunity, and while he’d spotted a couple of inns along the main road, they were all full.
The alleys were less crowded, but Vir didn’t want to deviate from the main road—of which there was exactly one. No doubt the alleys would allow him to slip by, but which areas of the city were safe? Which side streets led where? Saran had given him similar anxiety, but that city was small enough that he always knew where he was. Alongside Maiya, they hadn’t gotten lost even once.
Now, he was alone, and Daha was many times the size of Saran. Each street looked the same as the next, crisscrossing every which way like a prana rat’s nest. He’d need a map.
Adding the item to his shopping list, Vir finally arrived at Market Square a full hour after leaving Param’s caravan.
The merchant had mentioned he’d find the Brotherhood’s building, and sure enough, in a corner was a five-story stone building with carvings of monsters, busts, and weapons of all kinds. But the rest of the cobblestone square was no less impressive, a veritable hive of activity. The area served as a junction for several roads, with people continuously entering and exiting.
It was a far cry from the slums near the city gate. Many buildings boasted carved arches, and gold-painted domes capped the rooftops—the kind he’d only ever seen at Apramor’s temple. There was even a fountain at the plaza’s center—though it was as dry as a desert—around which several dozen people sat and chatted.
While there were more people here, the space was far larger, so Vir felt like he could finally breathe again.
He patted Bumpy’s snout for the hundredth time. “Good boy. You must’ve been terrified of all those people, huh?”
The Ash’va grunted reluctantly, nuzzling him. “You were great, Bumpy. Just a little longer, and we’ll have you in a nice comfy stable,” Vir said, eyeing a nearby inn. He hoped to Janak they had vacancies.