The Unwilling Adventurer (The Unwilling #1) by Heidi Willard Page B
Authors: Heidi Willard
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tired, what say you to going now? A stroll through the streets will work off the wonderful food our host provided us."
Ned stepped aside and gestured to the room's exit. "Lead the way, kind sir."
CHAPTER 11
The party left the castle and walked down into the city. Though Fred had seen the sights of the road only a few hours before, there was so much to see he wondered if he could ever glimpse it all even if he had a lifetime of leisure to do it. Houses short and tall stood side by side, some with balconies and some without. People hung out windows and leaned over railings, and watched their fellow revelers dance and shop beneath them. Each tier was a city unto itself with several blocks of buildings filled with people. The upper districts housed the residential areas, minus those people who slept above their shops, and the three companions were given the grand tour by their guide.
Lord Sturgeon knew a great deal of the history, and Pat was fascinated by the small stories of nobility. Fred and Ned politely nodded when they needed to, but were generally uninterested. For several hours the group wound their way down the city and came upon the lower two districts. Those were the shopping districts, and to this Lord Sturgeon eagerly led them. Pat made one detour to have her sword placed in the hands of a competent blacksmith; she would return later when it was repaired.
The lord gestured to the houses above them and the shops around them. "As you can see by the packed buildings, our forefathers never expected the population and mercantile businesses to grow to such heights, so we are trapped within these walls, unable to expand anywhere but up."
"For an industrious man there is never such a trap," Ned commented. Fred started to get the feeling that Ned didn't trust their guide.
Sturgeon smiled and nodded toward the old man. "Quite right, my dear sir, quite right. That is why I've expanded beyond Tramadore, but I still keep myself here for festivities and the like." He stopped their small group at a small sweets shop crowded with children. Further down the street was the wall of the city, and in front of it was stacked a pile of crates. Sturgeon gestured to both the shop and the crates. "My sweet shop, my lady and gentlemen, with shipments from all over the world to stock the shelves, even as far as Crutchen to the east."
Fred had no idea how far Crutchen lay, but Pat was politely impressed. "That's very far. How do you manage to keep your goods safe along these roads?"
"That is a trick of my trade, my dear lady," Sturgeon replied with a wink.
The whole conversation bored Fred, so he wandered off toward the wall. Its massive construction attracted his attention, and he wondered if there were any cracks in the walls where he could see out to the fields. Being cooped up among all that rock, even for such a short time, had him longing for open fields. He reached the crates at the foot of the wall and was disappointed to find not a single sliver of light between the giant boulders that made up the wall. They were expertly wedged atop and against each other. He wondered if they hadn't used giants to create such a large and perfect defense.
While he stood there a dozen yards from the others, Fred's eyes caught on a movement among the crates. He thought perhaps it was a cat, but the color was odd. It was less of a flash from a disappearing cat, and more of a shimmer. He edged closer and realized the movement wasn't among the crates; it was one of the crates. One of the wooden boxes at the front moved and caught the light of the sun, causing a ripple of color.
Sensing they'd been spotted, the crate fell away to reveal itself as some strange cloak able to reflect the appearance of a crate. From the cloak arose a tall man dressed completely in black. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, and over the lower half of his face was a bandanna. The skin on the upper part of his face was pale, almost white, and the man's eyes burned as red as
Ned stepped aside and gestured to the room's exit. "Lead the way, kind sir."
CHAPTER 11
The party left the castle and walked down into the city. Though Fred had seen the sights of the road only a few hours before, there was so much to see he wondered if he could ever glimpse it all even if he had a lifetime of leisure to do it. Houses short and tall stood side by side, some with balconies and some without. People hung out windows and leaned over railings, and watched their fellow revelers dance and shop beneath them. Each tier was a city unto itself with several blocks of buildings filled with people. The upper districts housed the residential areas, minus those people who slept above their shops, and the three companions were given the grand tour by their guide.
Lord Sturgeon knew a great deal of the history, and Pat was fascinated by the small stories of nobility. Fred and Ned politely nodded when they needed to, but were generally uninterested. For several hours the group wound their way down the city and came upon the lower two districts. Those were the shopping districts, and to this Lord Sturgeon eagerly led them. Pat made one detour to have her sword placed in the hands of a competent blacksmith; she would return later when it was repaired.
The lord gestured to the houses above them and the shops around them. "As you can see by the packed buildings, our forefathers never expected the population and mercantile businesses to grow to such heights, so we are trapped within these walls, unable to expand anywhere but up."
"For an industrious man there is never such a trap," Ned commented. Fred started to get the feeling that Ned didn't trust their guide.
Sturgeon smiled and nodded toward the old man. "Quite right, my dear sir, quite right. That is why I've expanded beyond Tramadore, but I still keep myself here for festivities and the like." He stopped their small group at a small sweets shop crowded with children. Further down the street was the wall of the city, and in front of it was stacked a pile of crates. Sturgeon gestured to both the shop and the crates. "My sweet shop, my lady and gentlemen, with shipments from all over the world to stock the shelves, even as far as Crutchen to the east."
Fred had no idea how far Crutchen lay, but Pat was politely impressed. "That's very far. How do you manage to keep your goods safe along these roads?"
"That is a trick of my trade, my dear lady," Sturgeon replied with a wink.
The whole conversation bored Fred, so he wandered off toward the wall. Its massive construction attracted his attention, and he wondered if there were any cracks in the walls where he could see out to the fields. Being cooped up among all that rock, even for such a short time, had him longing for open fields. He reached the crates at the foot of the wall and was disappointed to find not a single sliver of light between the giant boulders that made up the wall. They were expertly wedged atop and against each other. He wondered if they hadn't used giants to create such a large and perfect defense.
While he stood there a dozen yards from the others, Fred's eyes caught on a movement among the crates. He thought perhaps it was a cat, but the color was odd. It was less of a flash from a disappearing cat, and more of a shimmer. He edged closer and realized the movement wasn't among the crates; it was one of the crates. One of the wooden boxes at the front moved and caught the light of the sun, causing a ripple of color.
Sensing they'd been spotted, the crate fell away to reveal itself as some strange cloak able to reflect the appearance of a crate. From the cloak arose a tall man dressed completely in black. He wore a wide-brimmed hat, and over the lower half of his face was a bandanna. The skin on the upper part of his face was pale, almost white, and the man's eyes burned as red as
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