Chapter 87: Chapter 81

The black porgulls cried in the distant night sky as the lights from the harbors overshadowed the bright mana lamps of the city. Navigation didn’t require a compass in this world since the porgulls did most of the job. Their semblance to the raven family was unmistakable, except for their longer red beaks and harsher claws. I looked down from the atypical hill we had managed to climb, and a buzzing city graced my eyes, devoid of the haste of the night. No curfew either. Noises reached us, though faint but mingled with shouts of sailors and merchants alike. Carriages trudged inside the city through a different route, one that didn’t involve going through the pass but longer and safer.

“Exploring the city is going to take a long while,” Garlan frowned, leading his stallion down the slope that descended to the sturdy walls of the city, adorned with crenelations and turrets. The wall spanned throughout the periphery of the city, marking the boundary of many waterways that had ships stoned at the harbor. Everything looked tiny from a distance, so my picturesque view of the city did not offer me a stark structure of the locale.

“Help me down, Rudolf,” my lady stared at the city with glistening eyes. “I want to walk the rest of the way.”

I held her hand and stabilized the stirrup before helping her get off the mare, who was more silent than usual. She was exhausted, just like my lady, but the sight of the city hadn’t managed to rejuvenate the mare.

We descended the slope covered with the wilted outgrowth of greens and shrubs, the path being the only brown splotch around us. The grey bricks of the walls warded off the unseen suspicious visitors from the city. There were multiple vigilant guards stationed to entertain every new soul entering the lively city. Mages in the watchtowers behind the crenellations weren’t lax like those in the capital, and the archers had multiple arrows poking out of the quiver.

The soldiers stopped us at the gates, and the carriage that intersected our path from the right entered the city without any pat-down search. My lady pulled her cowl to cover her head and fished two licenses from her pochette slung across her waist. The soldier’s tunic was grim and sweaty, and the tattered trousers offered little help in improving the attire, but my lady didn’t have the arrogance to request a higher-ranked guard. A weathered cutlass dangled across his waist, and the bald spots on his head marred with scars talked in magnitudes of his experience despite the attire.

“Academy graduate,” he shouted to his mates within the portcullis. A sturdy man dressed in mage robes stepped outside and grabbed my lady’s pass after a brief glance.

“Fresh?” he asked, removing his cowl and caressing his long grey bread that ran past his chest.

“Yes,” my lady said. “And a noble.”

“Forgive my impudence, lady Valorat,” he took a cautious step back, glancing at the Valorat name on the card, and went back inside after a smack at his subordinate. I had to remind him to return our passes, much to my lady’s displeasure. Garlan had somehow managed to get inside the gates bypassing all the checks.

“You’ll get used to it,” his smug irritated my lady, but she didn’t retort amidst the commuters surrounding us.

Chatter dawdled around the vicinity, and people were dressed in garbs and tunics despite the prevailing winters. Port Achlon was much warmer than other cities owing to the warm winds that blew from the sea throughout the night. The markets on either side of the entrance were bustling with people of various ethnic, primarily visitors. The grey fabric roofs extended from the traditional brown roofing that covered most of the houses in the locality. The taunt roof was tied to the poles, regularly spaced beside the wide pavements meant for commuters and carriages, serving as single support for multiple riggings.

We ignored the roads spanning left and right and ambled straight toward the mercenary guild. Garlan was familiar with the city, or so he had said, so we followed him wordlessly, my hands too sweaty owing to my lady’s grip and the reins. We had to leave the horses at the stables soon. Port Achlon wasn’t as amicable as Carthan city owing to its congested streets.

I wasn’t particularly entertained with the idea of walking around aimlessly in search of envoys, but my hunt for bakehouses kept me going. The envoys of Balar might have wasted themselves after drinking ale for the past few years, or they might have already run away from the city as far as my knowledge about mortals was concerned. But pulling out surprises on the undead was their job, and somehow,  mortals excelled in the task. Perhaps, that was the main reason for their uncontrollable spread throughout the unknown lands of the world and beyond.

I pulled my lady closer as the crowd thickened, and she walked in front of me, holding the reins of the mare with her left hand. She let my hand go, but I was forced to keep my steps steady and cautious to match her pace since she was walking right before me. The carriages spread the traveling crowds at times, but the nighttime didn’t get many, so people occupied the entire wide roads for the commute.

Most of the houses adorned a darker shade of white, probably due to the grim, that complimented well with the roofing. A couple of shrines had long turrets spanning the edifice, but the entire decrepit temples were abandoned and uncleaned, owing to the Anti-religious sentiments of the royal family. That was good in a way because there would be no hypocrisy in the name of religion, but some people still worshipped their gods behind the closed door with utmost secrecy. Nonetheless, not in the capital because innumerable families had been beheaded by the first king to set an example to the predecessors.

The pungent smell of stagnated water lingered around the city once we walked for more than thirty minutes, and I realized we were reaching closer to the harbor. Garlan and my lady indulged in idle chatter at times, and Letitia had grown quite comfortable with my bread lad, despite his commoner status. Though, his mutt grade hadn’t changed throughout our journey since she wasn’t interested in calling him by his name any time soon.

“Aren’t we walking in circles, Garlan?” I asked once I noticed the same shop for the third time on my hunt. I was skeptical at first, but I was sure now that the same woman was sitting under the stained fabric roof with vegetables sprawled before her. Carrots and radishes weren’t my forte, so they were particularly eyecatching.

“I…” he glanced around the vicinity and pointed to the building at the end of the left lane that we had been avoiding till now. “How can Garlan ever be wrong?” his haughtiness returned to his face. “That’s the guild.”

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“Sure,” I rolled my eyes. “This is the third time we are encountering the same alley, bread lad.”

“I’ll leave the horses with the handlers,” he took the reins from my hand, “and meet you at the guild later. Just check the taverns in the vicinity if you cannot find your envoys. If your client told you that you’d find them in this city, then the two places are your only bet. I’ll get some rooms booked for the night too, so don’t hesitate to explore the city–“

“Are you abandoning us?” I sighed, watching his crafty smile.

“Gemulo is my go-to place every time I visit the port,” he said with a grin. “It’s a gambling house, but one that lets me win a few shins always. So, if you want to find me before I finish, just visit the bustling building beside the Miam shrine. There’s only one in the city, so you can never get it wrong.”

My lady acquiesced without a word and turned to walk in the direction of the alley. Garlan must have promised her a commission, but well, I hadn’t been paying much attention to their conversation. I waved at my bread lead and split up with the mare. She stared at us longingly, and my lady caressed her forehead before giving her a reassuring glance. I wasn’t sure if the mare understood, but It worked as she followed Garlan soundlessly.

“Off we go, Rudolf,” she smiled at me and rushed in the direction of the guild, almost tripping herself owing to her long gown. I caught her on time, and she nodded thoughtfully before restoring her noble decorum. She wasn’t impulsive like before these days, and somehow her maturity had come too quick for me to get attuned to it. A few more years down the line, she wouldn’t need me anymore, but I doubted she would toss me out like a heartless noble. Her inclination toward me would die down in the future, or that was what I thought because humans change, unlike undead.

I like bread and slaughter, and I will like bread and slaughter. No questions asked.

A drunkard rested on the stairs to the guild under the portico that arched upwards. Mana lamps atop the arch cast hazy light over his sprawled figure dressed in tattered cloth. I stood beside my lady, on guard against his inquisitive gaze, as we climbed the stairs and ambled inside the open door.

Five counters hung before us as in every other guild, but there were a couple of round tables in addition and a supply store in a nook beside the reception. The tags strapped in bold above each booth helped me ascertain my claims, for I didn’t really have any special skill for recognizing every obscurity of this realm. The room was brightly lit with multiple mana lamps spanning through the pale yellow walls of the edifice, and the quest board was located right beside the entrance, deserted but not empty.

There were a couple of men seated at one of the tables, while the second one was occupied by an old man without an arm. He was probably a regular because he didn’t garner suspicious gazes from the mages behind the counter. However, under his threadbare garb, he was wearing a red tunic, and I glanced at my lady, who nodded in approval. Yes, I wasn’t color blind.

Wasn’t this too quick? I wondered but assuming that they were emissaries of the royal family of Halurath Isles, this much should be the bare minimum. The receptionists glanced at us for a while, and after realizing that we weren’t about to pick a mission, they resorted to idle chatter amongst themselves.

I walked toward the man and took a seat on the chair opposite him. His weary eyes stopped at me for a few seconds before moving over to my lady, who was standing beside me. When he found nothing interesting, he closed his eyes and dropped his head, trying to get a good night’s rest. Probably, because sleeping while sitting hardly sounds enticing.

“Red mounts,” I said, and he opened his eyes in annoyance.

“Never seen them before,” his displeasure was evident from the gruffness in his voice, and it attracted the stares of the men seated on the table beside us. “If you trying to sell me something, look elsewhere. Leave this old mercenary at once. I don’t even have money to get myself a room. That’s why you never drink ale.” He said and chugged a gulp of ale from his costrel that had magically appeared from beneath the table.

“We are sorry for troubling you,” I said politely and got up.

“Guess we aren’t lucky, my lady,” I said, glancing around the room in search of red tunics. We found none, of course, but one of the men at the next table pulled my hand discreetly and pointed to the tavern right across the street.

“We are, mongrel,” my lady smiled.

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