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seeing inside the walls of The Stocks, these carried steel blades, not ironwood batons.

Andr made no note of the guards, keeping his head down as he calmly steered his horse through the opening between them. To Ryl, the tension and readiness that his friend carried in his shoulders was apparent. He followed slowly in his wake, his hand resting not far from the reach of his blade. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw the heads of several turn their direction, carefully tracking their movements. Their eyes spoke of distrust, yet none made a motion or sound to disrupt their travel.

Once through the gauntlet of guards, Andr carefully increased his pace. Ryl followed the experienced mercenary, though his ears were trained for the sounds of the guards behind them.

He was relieved as no evidence of pursuit or warning trailed them into the city.

Inside the gate of the East Ward, the buildings grew substantially sturdier, yet a far cry from the comforts Ryl had experienced in Vim. He was certain that attempting to compare any city in the whole of Damaris to the wonders that were contained in the hidden city would leave him sorely disappointed.

The buildings inside the East Ward were a mix of wood and stone. Their crude, weathered facades were poorly maintained, showing a patchwork of ages of neglect amidst newly repaired areas. The air inside the walls of the city was stagnant, allowing the fetid stench to thicken to a fog like quality. The streets were littered with piles of refuse. Torchlight escaped from houses on both sides of the narrow alley, flooding the laden air with a muted glow.

There were few others on the street. Those they encountered seemed quick to seek the concealment of the shadows, hastening away with purpose.

“Is that the usual detail for the city’s entrance?” Ryl quizzed quietly.

“No. I’ve never seen a guard stationed there in all the cycles that I’ve come,” Andr replied. His eyes were diligent as they catalogued their surroundings.

“Even for the Harvest,” he added softly. “Something feels off. I’d like to get off the street before nightfall. Let’s make haste.”

Ryl agreed. The hesitant, even worrisome attitude of the citizens they’d encountered bordered on fear. What were they afraid of?

Ryl scanned the area with his mindsight. They were yet too far from The Stocks to sense the tributes inside. Thankfully there was no sign of the tainted blackness that he’d come to understand as the Lei Guard.

The mercenary increased his pace, spurring his horse into a slow trot. They rode toward the base of the looming palisade a short distance before turning to the right, heading north into the city. The further into the center of the mass of buildings they traveled, the more rundown the constructions again became. Here there seemed to be no thought given to maintenance of either shop or residence alike. In most cases, Ryl couldn’t tell if the houses were even occupied.

In the distance, the sound of people speaking began as nothing more than a dull rumble. The barely perceptible murmur of conversation grew into a cacophony of voices, each talking over one another. The dull thrum of music fought desperately to carry over the din. The two sounds were locked in a constant competition with one another, each achieving nothing more than making the other unintelligible.

The avenue they followed deposited them in entered a busy square that opened beyond.at the end of the alley. The numbers of people, though not overwhelming, was dramatically in contrast to the handful they had passed to this point. The activity was focused on a large building that dominated the entire side of the square to the north.

Andr reined his horse to a stop.

“We’re here,” he chuckled, inclining his head toward the building at their front.

“Welcome to The Proper’s East.”

Chapter 16

Ryl cocked his head slightly to the side as he looked at the bemused expression on the face of the mercenary.

“Aye. It’s every bit as bad as it seems, and yet it’s probably the safest place in all Cadsae Proper to spend the night,” Andr chucked. “Follow me. There’s a stable around the side.”

If Ryl’s faith in the mercenary hadn’t been confirmed time and time again, he’d have thought his friend had gone mad. With a shrug of his shoulders, he wheeled his horse, trailing Andr around the western edge of the crowd.

The Proper’s East occupied a sprawling complex. The western half of the massive two story building had a porch that was covered by a balcony that jutted out from the second floor. Large double doors on both floors gave a view of the revelry that was commencing within. A mass of people spilled out from the interior on both levels, silhouetted against the light and sound that poured from within. Even from the distance, Ryl could tell that most were thoroughly intoxicated.

Both balcony and porch stopped midway around the building, dividing the structure nearly in half. Past that point, the windows were all shuttered, though he could make out the barely noticeable sparks of light that snuck out through the cracks.

Few acknowledged their presence as they traversed the edge of the square, passing around the side of The Proper’s East to enter into a cramped alley. The stable at the end was busy, though there was more than enough room available for both their mounts. After the sight of the haggard buildings they’d passed in the East Ward, not to mention the level of debauchery within the tavern, Ryl was pleasantly surprised by the cleanliness of the stable’s interior.

A pair of stable hands politely gathered their mounts, leading them to adjacent stalls toward the far end of the stable. They both had the appearance of soldiers, not stable hands. They were lean, yet well-muscled. Each wore swords comfortably on either hip and walked with the swagger of men who were well accustomed to the blade. Andr thanked them, flipping both a pair of coins.

“A coin for the Proper’s Maiden,” Andr

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