Mala - Part 3
It should have been an easy journey. The road they were on was one of the city's most important; a wide avenue lined with trees and gardens and overlooked by large, magnificent buildings, and it ran straight to the tower. All they had to do was follow it. Indeed, as they passed the first and only bend they could see it ahead of them, the road running towards it as straight as a speeding arrow. They could see figures moving busily behind the narrow windows and taking the air on the balconies that ringed it, their long, flowing robes blowing in the wind, made so small by the distance that the full size of the tower was brought home to them for the first time.
Thomas gasped in astonishment. "It's huge!" he said breathlessly. "I mean, just look at it! It's huge!"
"Battleaxe Tower is bigger," pointed out Matthew. "You've seen it."
"Maybe," conceded the wizard, "but that tower over there looks bigger. There's something about it. Something that makes it look bigger than its actual size."
Matthew started to laugh, but it died in his throat as he realised that Thomas was right. Battleaxe Tower was just a great pile of stone, but Mala's Tower of Sorcery was more than that. It had a presence that the fortress lacked. A palpable sense of being the home of forces beyond the ability of ordinary men to imagine. The mundane citizens of Mala would look up at it and tremble in fear as they imagined the great and terrible secrets it must contain. It would make them feel small and trivial. It would make them feel like lesser beings, creeping timidly in the shadows of giants, and that in turn would make them grow angry. People didn't like being made to feel like that, and it all contributed to the growing tensions that were soon destined to erupt into the Massacre of the Mages.
Before they could reach the tower, though, they were stopped by a crowd ahead of them. A line of guardsmen was holding back the traffic and people had gathered around to see what was going on.
"Looks like some kind of demonstration," said Thomas. "I have a vague memory of looking at a map of old Mala once, in the University library perhaps, and I've got an idea some of the merchant headquarters are along this street. I know there were a number of disputes over trade monopolies at about this time. Is that someone shouting up there? If we listen to what they're saying..."
"Who cares what it's about?" said Matthew, however. "All that matters is that we can't go this way. Is there another road we can take?"
"All the roads in this part of the city go to the tower," said the wizard. "We should be able to take any of these side roads and turn back towards the tower at the next turning. How about that road there?"
Matthew shrugged, and they set off between two large stone buildings, certain that the diversion would cost them no more than a couple of minutes.
They followed it for a few dozen yards and turned south again at the next large road they came to, but it came to a dead end and they were forced to retrace their steps, looking for an alternative route. The only other main road they could find led further north, though, not at all the direction they wanted to go, so with some trepidation they took a smaller road, littered with junk and rubbish, that led away between a pair of huge granite buildings, one of which seemed to be a museum of some description. Thomas longed to go in and look around, but the shadows were lengthening and the eastern sky was growing dark. With a sigh of nervous apprehension, therefore, he led the way into the narrow, dangerous feeling road.
They knew they'd made a mistake before they'd gone fifty yards. Ahead of them the road narrowed to a dingy alleyway, almost impassable in places with heaped rubbish, and they could feel tiny, sharp pairs of eyes staring at them from every turn. Something was rustling around in a pile of rubbish, something that looked superficially like a rat but which was the size of a small dog. It looked up at them with evil, slitted eyes, bared a pair of long, yellow teeth and then scurried off into the darkness with the pattering of heavy, clawed feet.
"Back the way we came," said Matthew, one hand on the hilt of his sword, but as they turned they saw to their dismay that they'd passed a fork in the road without realising it. Which way had they come? Matthew chose the left hand fork. Sounds of bustling activity came from somewhere ahead of them, encouraging them to think that they were about to emerge into a busy market street, but the further they went the narrower and dingier the road became. When they turned and tried once again to retrace their steps they found themselves in an alleyway they certainly hadn't passed on their way there, and they were forced to admit that they were lost.
"Okay," said Matthew, glancing warily in all directions. He'd been in enough big cities to know the danger they were in and he found himself taking charge of their little force without consciously thinking about it. "All we've got to do is keep moving in one direction long enough and we're bound to come to a main road sooner or later. Come on." He led the way on, no longer caring much what direction they took. Getting to the tower was no longer their main priority. Getting out of this maze of alleyways was.
Thomas followed close behind the Wing Leader, with Borlin and Stone bringing up the rear. They were all wary and alert, on guard against possible trouble, and had unconsciously assumed hostile territory marching order, the soldiers driven by years of merciless training and the wizard falling effortlessly back into the old habits he'd learned during his adventuring days. The intervening years seemed to melt away, and suddenly it was the old days again. The Claimjumpers on the quest for the Sceptre of Samnos or trailing a squad of Shadowsoldiers halfway across the continent. If he turned his head he would see Jerry and Diana close behind him, the tiny nome fingering the material components of illusion spells, ready to cast them at a moment's notice. The beautiful but serious faced cleric muttering prayers to the Lady of Healing under her breath.
At least Lenny's not with us, he thought gratefully. That had always been the worst part of those old adventures. The terrible fear that the woman he loved more than life itself would be hurt. As she had been, several times, but not this time. She's safe, back home in Lexandria. A thousand years in the future. His heart still pounded in his chest, though. Pounded with fear for his own safety, the safety of his trusted friend and the safety of the two younger soldiers who were gradually becoming his friends. We can always teleport out, he reminded himself. Seskip'll give us hell, but if the worst comes to the worst we can always teleport back up to the ring and return to the Ship of Space. He fingered the Necklace of Vacuum Breathing, reassuring himself that it was still there.
It was almost completely dark now, and Thomas picked up a short length of wood lying in the gutter. It had once been the cleverly carved leg of a chair by the look of it, but now it was just another piece of litter. It was a high quality piece of carving, though. Maybe quality enough to hold a magic spell. He pulled a dried piece of moss from a pouch and touched it to the wood, at the same time chanting the words of a spell, and a moment later the broken chair leg began to glow with a cold, greenish light. It illuminated the alley they were stumbling their way through, allowing them to see the junk and rubbish they would otherwise have been tripping over, and more importantly it identified him as a wizard. A warning to any thugs and ruffians they might come across who might otherwise have thought them easy targets and who might have hurt or killed one of them before realising their mistake.
Abruptly, though, the alleyway opened out into a fair sized street and the four men stumbled gratefully out into the open, muttering prayers of gratitude to the Gods for the uneventfulness of their diversion. The street was empty and almost completely dark, lit only by warm, yellow light spilling out through curtained windows. Overhead, stars twinkled and the long tail of a comet stretched like the streak of a dusty rubber across a clean blackboard. The cold of the still air began to seep into their thin clothing, chosen for indoor living, not camping out under the stars.
"Which way now, fearless leader?" asked Thomas, wrapping his arms around his body in an attempt to keep warm.
"I was hoping your sense of direction was better than mine," replied Matthew, looking up and down the street in bafflement. "I've got no idea. If we just wander around a bit maybe we'll come across a guardsman. Maybe he'll be able to give us directions."
The others nodded, unable to offer any better suggestions, and so they set off down the street, setting a good pace in an attempt to generate heat.
They didn't see any guardsmen, but they did see a sign hanging beside one of the small houses lining the street and Matthew stopped to read it, suddenly interested. Rooms for rent, it said. Reasonable rates. Hot food. Bath available for a small extra charge. Apply day or night.
"We can't afford to rent a room," said Thomas regretfully. "We couldn't even afford a carriage ride to the tower."
"Perhaps we can pay for it another way," said Matthew, eyeing Thomas's makeshift torch thoughtfully. "How long will that shine for?"
"A few hours, no more than that," said the wizard. "I have another spell that'll make it shine forever, but it’ll use up pretty much all the magic I've got left. I won't be able to cast any more spells until tomorrow.”
“You shouldn't need to cast any spells in a boarding house.”
“If they've got a room free.”
“You think they’ll turn away a wizard? The impression I get…”
“Yeah, I know. I just don’t like the idea of strongarming people. That's how the Massacre of the Mages happened. If there's any trouble, and I haven't got any magic left to defend us with…”
“I understand,” said Matthew with forced patience, “but we can't walk the streets of this city at night. We have no idea what direction the tower's in and the streets'll be full of cutthroats. We have to find somewhere to spend the night, and that means finding a way to pay for it. We don't want to end up lying in the gutter with our throats cut." He didn't wait for Thomas to reply but trotted up the paved path through the grass to rap briskly on the door, the wizard muttering under his breath as he followed.
Stone and Bakklin grinned at each other as they also followed. Stone raised his eyebrows at the navy man, signaling his delight at this turn of events, and Bakklin nodded in response. Seeing this out of the corner of his eye, Thomas was forced to smile. No-one had bothered to ask the two soldiers what they thought of the idea, and they wouldn't have expected them to. Their job was to just follow wherever their superior led and do as they were told. They had probably expected to be led into conflict and danger, though, and an Agglemonian boarding house would be an unexpected and rather pleasant surprise. They were doubtless wishing that all their missions involved hot meals and warm, soft beds.
That's right, thought Thomas as he waited for the door to open. Just enjoy it while it lasts. Tomorrow we might all be dead.
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