Chapter Three
The
road is longer than it appears, and it was long after sunset,
and moons rise before Mac Anu and Naill arrived at the gates
to the city. Along the way they also discovered that the road
went down into several gullies, through small patches of orchards
and wild groves and even through a few small villages. A city
such as Shelzar would need to cultivate large quantities of
lumber Naill reasoned, and though she had not seen any forests
as she understood them, several valleys of cotton woods and
other trees could be seen in the north west areas leading back
into the arid planes. From the Urkadan tribemen she learned
there were several valleys in the Sweltering Plains that were
filled with groves and small forests. Unfortunately these often
proved to be the only sources of water for several miles, so
battles with Titan spawn were common in these areas.
In the villages they learned that the north gate of Shelzar
never closed, as Mac Anu feared it might at sunset. The cities
in the Darakeene close the gates for traffic one hour after
sunset and opened one hour before sunrise. While this was a
custom, and not a law of the land, it was a practical action
to take. “Don’t they worry about attacks or raids
at night?” Mac Anu asks the barman who gave him this information.
“Raids?” There haven’t been raids on Shelzar
since the Titan war. There have been quite a few on the villages,
we were raided not two months ago by a band of ogres, but a
raid on Shelzar itself would be a suicide run.”
“Army is that good huh?” Mac Anu asks.
“Army?” The barman laughed, “By the bosom
of Enkili no. Shelzar’s standing army is happy when they
can stand lad. The raid would undoubtedly succeed in getting
into the city and back out again with a proper load of loot.
By then however the Crimson Guard would be on their trail, and
those fellows... well”
“I know about them.” Mac Anu said, giving Naill
a glance. “They are trained up where we are from.”
“Then you know they would track down every last one of
the raiders and have their hides tanning on the northern wall
of Shelzar by the next morning.” The barman said, in a
mumbled tone, while he cleaned a small cup with white towel.
“Sure!” snarled a patron from a table behind them,
“If’n they were paid for it, dirty mercenaries have
no loyalty to Shelzar nor us neither.”
