Chapter 1
It was well past nooning when Evann stood before the north gate into the city of Morshton. He had trudged up the rise to the gate in the trail of a long ox-drawn wagon hauling rough-cut lumber. He’d seen the wagon well ahead of him when he’d finally stepped onto the main road, and it had taken him longer to catch up to it than he’d thought it would. In fact, he hadn’t managed to do that until the wagon was approaching the gate.
The gates were standing wide open with the leaves folded back inside the gatehouse against the walls of the gate tunnel itself. Evann had never seen a city wall or a gate before, so he stared at the stonework with interest. Already he could feel questions bubbling up as to how the stones were cut, and hauled, and especially how they were lifted up to the upper levels of the wall and gate tower. He wondered if his friend Rufous would know, or if whatever master he was able to study with had the answers.
The gate itself seemed wide at first glance, but a second examination showed it was not as wide as all that, since the wagon before Evann would barely fit between the gate leaves. And why did they need a gate, anyway? That thought just started more questions to form up and get in line in Evann’s mind. He really needed to find someone who could—and would—answer them.
But for now, the wagon was moving through the gate after the ox drover had spent a few minutes talking to a couple of men with spears. As it cleared the way, Evann hesitated. He was a bit uncertain as to what he was to do next. One of the men the drover had been talking to beckoned to him. Taking a deep breath, Evann stepped up to face them.
“Haven’t seen you here before, have we, lad?” The speaker was the older of the two. He was a bit taller than Evann, with lines on his face and grizzling grey in his short beard. His eyes were tired, but seemed kind.
“No, sir.”
“First time to Morshton, then?” Evann thought the guard’s voice sounded funny, but he could understand him well enough.
“Yes, sir.”
“What’s your name, lad?” The speaker smiled at him.
“Evann, sir.”
“Where you from?”
“A little village called Chesserlin, from the other side of Carryl.”
The other spearman snorted, but the speaker just said, “That’s a long walk. What are you here for?”
“My master sent me to ask a question of a wizard.”
The other guard started chuckling, and the speaker smiled again. “Right. Well, get on with you, and good luck.”
Evann started through the gate. He almost turned back when he heard the other guard mutter, “You’re going to need it,” but he stiffened his resolve and kept walking.
The gateway was long enough and dim enough that Evann blinked when he exited into the morning light at the end. He stood there for a moment, taking in the scene before him, until he was nudged from behind. “You want to get out of the way?” a raspy voice said.
“Sorry,” Evann apologized as he quickly stepped to one side to let a trio of dwarves tromp past him and join the flow of people.
The space the gate opened into wasn’t very large, and the streets that led out from it appeared to be rather narrow. People were moving through all of them—men pushing carts, men carrying boxes or baskets or sacks of some kind. And there went two men carrying what looked like a chair with poles with an old man sitting in it, walking stick propped in front of him, studiously ignoring the crowd as they thronged around him.
The throng included women, of course. Most of them were carrying loads as well, although some of the better dressed had empty hands.
No one was just walking, it seemed like. Everyone was moving quickly, in a hurry.
“So where do I start?” Evann muttered.
“Did you say something, lad?”
Evann looked around to see another spearman gate guard. “I’m not from here, I don’t know anybody . . .”
“And you don’t know where to begin, do you?” The guard gave a gap-toothed grin.
“No, sir.”
“Don’t sir me, lad. I’m just a common trooper in the city guard. Now what you need is a guide, right?”
Evann nodded vigorously.
“You have any money?”
Evann took a half-step back instinctively. “A little, I guess.” Looking back at the crowd, remembering the cautions Rufous had given him, “Actually, not very much at all.”
“Well, if you’ve a copper or two, that will do.” The guard gave a shrill whistle. In a moment a skinny boy not much shorter than Evann popped out of the throng in the open space and hurried across to stop in front of the guard.
“Whatcha got, Tom?”
“Be polite, brat,” the guard said with a chuckle. “The lad here needs a guide. You think you could do him?”
The boy looked Evann up and down. “Might could. What’s in it for me?” That was said directly to Evann. His voice had the same accent as the guard’s, only in a pleasant tenor instead of a scratchy bass.
“My thanks.”
The guard snorted, and the boy just lowered his brows.
“Maybe a copper,” Evann added.
“A copper and you buy me something to eat.”
Evann considered that. He was hungry himself. “Something cheap to eat.”
The boy held out his hand. Evann shook his head. “Food now. Copper at the end.”
The boy dropped his hand, considered, and said, “All right. Shake.” He stuck his hand out again, and Evann took it this time.
“Chander,” said the boy.
It took Evann a moment to realize that was his name. “Evann,” he replied.
“Right. This way to the food.”
Chander took off. Evann tried to follow, but the boy was sliding through the crowd so fast that Evann couldn’t even keep sight of him, much less follow him. He crossed the open space as quickly as he could without running into or over people, then stopped.
Evann turned slowly, looking for the boy. He heard a rustle beside him, and looked around to see Chander staring at him.
“Not getting nowhere if you keep stopping like that,” Chander said with a frown.
“You’re not doing me much good as a guide if you don’t stay with me,” Evann retorted. “You want your food, you want your copper, you’ve got to lead me, not make me chase you.”
Chander exhaled sharply. “All right, if that’s the way you want it.”
“I’m buying, and that’s the way I want it.” Evann stared back at the boy, not giving an inch. He’d known kids like this in the village when he was younger, always on the make, always trying to get an edge on anyone and everyone. They’d gotten him into a lot of trouble when he was younger, until he’d learned a little common sense and quit letting them talk him into their schemes. He’d also learned to give as good as he got.
Suddenly Chander grinned. “You’ll do, friend Evann. You’ll do. Come on, this way.” He pointed down the street, and fell in at Evann’s side.