‘I have been rich and I have been poor,’ he said as he led the wagon’s horse by the reins. ‘Rich is better.’
Eiriann, who was holding Poppy, grimaced as she surveyed their surroundings. Despite the hour, Dreel’s main thoroughfare remained active. Armed men in the employ of Duke Erlik, the ruler of Dreel, patrolled the streets and ogled the whores on the corners. Destitute beggars and merchants in fabulous coaches roamed the avenue, while the taverns kept busy with thirsty workmen. Dreel was well known for its debauchery, where anything could be purchased for a price. Here, the vaunted laws and courts of the northern kingdoms were but a happy memory. Yet Lorn was glad to see the city. For all its ugliness, it meant they were nearing Ganjor at last.
‘Don’t fret,’ he told Eiriann. ‘We’ll spend a day or two here and rest. Then we’ll head for Ganjor.’
‘We’ll need money,’ Garthel reminded him. ‘Or when we get to Ganjor we won’t have enough to buy passage through the desert.’
The old man’s words made the other Believers nod with worry.
‘We’ll manage,’ said Lorn. ‘Somehow.’
He himself was unsure how, but they had already made it so far with so little. It had been many weeks since they’d left Koth, but despite their infirmities and the hardships of the road Eiriann and the others had proved remarkably resilient. Lorn was proud of them. He was proud to be leading them. He had not wanted to become their leader, but because he was healthy and because he could fight the Believers had looked at him for guidance within the first day of leaving the library. It seemed not to matter to them that he was nearly as old as Garthel. He was King Lorn the Wicked, and though they had feared him they admired him now, the way he had led them.
For Lorn, it felt good to lead again. The Believers had become a tiny army in his mind, and certainly more loyal than the one that had betrayed him in Carlion. He was needed. Even when they were in Nith, soaked with rain from a storm that seemed to follow them everywhere, he was glad that he was with them, and that he had not stayed in Koth to fight Jazana Carr. At least now Poppy would have a chance. One day she would be whole, he told himself constantly, and that would be enough reward.
‘Where will we stay?’ asked one of the group, a young man named Bezarak. Blind since birth, Bezarak nevertheless walked much of the way, leaving the space in the wagons for those who could not. He was a hearty fellow who always urged them to go on further, no matter how tired he appeared. Like all the Believers, Bezarak was sure a cure awaited him in Jador. As if he could see, he glanced up into the sky. ‘Are there many clouds?’
‘No,’ answered Garthel. ‘We can sleep in the wagons tonight.’
‘We’ll have to,’ said Eiriann. ‘We can’t afford better.’
None of them complained, but their plight was bitter to Lorn. For a moment his mind skipped back to Carlion, with its soft beds and decent food. Even during the famine times he’d never truly gone hungry.
‘We’ll find a quiet place,’ he told them. ‘There must be someplace like that in this city. Then, in the morning, we’ll see what we can trade.’
There was very little left to trade, but they all nodded. Bezarak hurried his pace to stand near Lorn.
‘What’s it look like?’ he asked softly.
‘What?’ asked Lorn. ‘Dreel?’
‘Yes.’ The young man swivelled his head, listening to all the noise, then took a breath. ‘It smells funny.’ They were passing a street corner where a gaggle of prostitutes were waiting. Bezarak smiled. ‘Women.’
Lorn laughed. ‘Aye, women, and if I had a gold coin to my name I’d have them make a man out of you.’
Garthel and the other men laughed now, too, but young Eiriann made a disgusted face.
‘Ah, you’re all pigs. Bezarak, you won’t find a worthy woman in this province, to be sure. If you weren’t blind already, staring at those harlots would make you so.’
‘Fate above, let the fellow have some dreams,’ said her father, Garthel. ‘If I were younger those ladies would have something to worry about.’
Eiriann rolled her eyes in embarrassment; the weary group enjoyed a laugh. Together they struggled deeper into town, to the place where the streets were wide but crowded by tall buildings. Lorn looked around, wondering where they should rest for the night. Eiriann was right; they had no money for shelter and would have to retire under the sky once again. Luckily, there were only taverns and closed shops in the area. The streets were mostly deserted of people. Without shopkeepers to shoo them off, Lorn decided the place was good enough. If they crowded together, there would be room in the wagons for all of them, at least while one or two of them remained awake and watchful. He told them to get comfortable, and without complaint the Believers set to work, rolling out blankets to prepare for sleep and unhitching their depleted horses and donkeys. Majis and Jollin, two of the more able-bodied of the group, took the beasts to water them from a trough not far up the street. Eiriann began readying Poppy for sleep, though the baby was already slumbering in her arms. Lorn watched, satisfied, then noticed movement from the corner of his eye.
Two men approached from across the street. Both soldiers, they wore the dark capes and stylised helmets of Dreel. Men of Duke Erlik, Lorn guessed. There were other men of means in Dreel, but it was well known that Erlik ruled here. Lorn relaxed, preparing to launch into his well-rehearsed pretext.
‘Ho,’ called one of the soldiers. They had come from the gate, but had left behind their long spears. They bore only swords, but left these dangling unthreateningly in their sheaths. Eiriann stopped what she was doing and held Poppy a bit closer, glowering at the men from atop the wagon.
‘Evening,’ replied Lorn. He remained as casual as he could. ‘Is something wrong? We paid our toll at the gate.’
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ replied the other man. Like his darkly draped twin, this one had a young voice. Now that they were closer, Lorn could see their youthful faces, cleanly shaven and callow. ‘We noticed you come in,’ the soldier continued. ‘You’re not from around here.’
‘We answered this at the gate,’ said Lorn. ‘We’re travelers from Liiria.’
The first soldier nodded. ‘We understand. We’re men of Duke Erlik, ruler of Dreel. We’re here to help you.’
‘You look like you could use some help,’ added the other man. He gestured toward Poppy. ‘Especially with the child. The duke greets all visitors to his city if he can, especially those from the north who need aid.’
‘Oh? Why is that?’ asked Lorn.
‘Sir, look around you,’ the soldier went on. ‘You’re new to Dreel, but this can be a tough city, and if you’re not careful harm may come to you. Duke Erlik tries to protect his northern cousins. If you need food, maybe some money, the duke wants to help.’
The news made all the weary travellers smile. Old Garthel clapped his hands together. ‘Your duke is generous indeed,’ he said. ‘We could use some supplies, maybe someone to fix the wheels of this wagon. .’
‘Fresh water, too,’ added Bezarak. ‘If we can help ourselves from your wells.’
‘The wells are for anyone,’ said the second soldier. He tilted up his helmet, revealing fronds of blond hair. ‘Take your fill of water. As for food, we can talk about that.’ He looked at Lorn. ‘You lead these people?’
Lorn nodded. ‘My name is Akan,’ he said. ‘We’re all together, but if anyone speaks for them it’s me.’
‘Good, then you can speak for their needs. Duke Erlik isn’t far. He’d be pleased to talk with you, I’m sure. We’ll escort you.’
Eiriann perked up. ‘The duke himself?’
‘Yes, madam,’ replied the first soldier. He took immediate notice of her pretty face. ‘The duke is a good man. You may come to meet him, too, if you wish.’