Jaleigh Johnson - Unbroken Chain

Skagi, walking easily, shrugged. “Don’t know what you mean. Gaina and I are old friends. It’s not a good day unless we go about cutting each other down.” His eyes narrowed. “He’s a fat coward who’s made a fortune in this market, and everyone up the avenue knows it. He needs to be reminded every so often who brings his food to the table.”

Ashok felt a hand fall on his shoulder. The impulse to lash out, to cut with the dagger still in his hand was almost overwhelming, but then he saw Cree fall into step beside him. The young one moved like a ghost.

He must know he could kill me, Ashok thought. All he needs is an instant of distraction. Why doesn’t he try? Why don’t any of them take advantage?

Cree slapped him on the back. “A boneclaw?” he said.

“Yes?” Ashok said uncertainly.

Cree shook his head and grinned. “Outstanding,” he said. “You’ll tell me the tale someday.”

Ashok could only nod. “What was that about?” he asked, changing the subject. “Between Skagi and the human?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cree said, waving a hand vaguely. “It’s just … the way things are. Everyone has a role to play to make the city work, but some people’s roles are more important than others.”

“And the human’s role is to clothe you?” Ashok said.

“Not just him,” Cree said. “All the merchants have their place in the trade district. They keep the coin flowing in and out of the city, but none of them would have a safe place to do business if the shadar-kai weren’t here to protect Ikemmu from outside threats.”

They walked on through the crowd and up into Tower Pyton. Ashok noticed that the farther they climbed up the winding stair through the tower, the less he saw of the other races. The upper levels were dominated by shadar-kai, and they were dressed in finery equal to that hanging from Gaina’s wagon, and greater.

There were shops in the tower: weapon dealers and brewers, wine makers and jewelers. They passed levels with locked, heavily guarded doors. The shadar-kai who came out of those mysterious rooms carried padlocked boxes, often inscribed with faintly glowing runes.

Ashok passed a slender, hooded figure carrying an iron-shod staff with shadowy tentacles winding up the shaft. As they passed each other, almost touching, Ashok breathed in and smelled sulfur. He looked up into the face of the tiefling, and she smiled at him. The shadow fingers reached up from the staff and plucked at her hood. She swirled the staff in her hand, and they quieted. Then she was by him, and he was forced to keep walking up the stairs.

Vedoran halted them on a crowded level with many doors, open as those on the previous levels had not been. The doors gave the room an airy feel and revealed many open portals cut into stone down the hallways. They looked out on the city and the Shadowdark in every direction. Ashok went to one while Vedoran approached a shadar-kai seated at a long table across the room.

Guards stood at the portals holding their weapons and the red and black banners Ashok had seen from below. They stood on narrow ledges jutting out from the tower, watching the city below while strong winds threatened to pluck them off their perches. None of them seemed afraid to fall.

Ashok went back into the main chamber to look around. The room was finely appointed and centered about the table, which was heaped in food and wine. Soft-cushioned furniture was everywhere, and several shadar-kai lounged on them, drinking wine and eating off platters.

A man took a handful of wrinkled fruit Ashok didn’t recognize off a plate and fed it piece by piece to the woman sitting across from him. Across the room, another man stood on his toes, blindfolded, his arms tied in front of him, while a woman drew a dagger blade lightly across his bare back and buttocks. The blade looked so sharp that if the man so much as twitched he would be sliced open.

All the shadar-kai were nude, with the exception of the man Vedoran was speaking to, who wore a pair of breeches and a sword tied with a sash to his waist.

Ashok turned slowly about the room, unable to credit his eyes with what he saw. The nakedness shocked him, although the shadar-kai were not over-burdened by modesty. Rather it was the complete lack of defense that disturbed Ashok. The men and women wore no armor, and he saw no weapons-save the woman’s dagger-ready to hand in case an encounter turned into an attack. The utter trust of the communal atmosphere staggered him.

There were other doors off the chamber-ones that did not lead to the open air but to more private spaces. Those curtained off rooms held other couples. Ashok watched their nude outlines through the thin curtains and could hear them speaking in low, intimate tones to each other.

“That’s Vedoran’s master,” Cree said, breaking into Ashok’s thoughts. He pointed to the man seated at the table. “Karthan-good warrior, fair trader. They’re not bad for Blites.”

“Blites?” Ashok said. “Skagi called me that before.”

For a breath Cree seemed taken aback. “That’s right,” he said. “I’d forgotten. But it’s nothing to you, is it? I’m talking about the sellswords. But don’t let any of them hear you call them Blites-they’ll make you pay for it.”

“Why are they called that?” Ashok asked.

“Blites don’t worship Tempus,” Cree said. “That’s why Vedoran’s only ‘guesting’ with us. He can’t hold rank, can’t serve the city in any official way.”

“I don’t understand,” Ashok said. “Your leader claimed you would be rewarded for fighting for Ikemmu.”

“That’s true,” Cree said. “And the sellswords are paid well for their work. But Uwan wants something greater for Ikemmu’s military. He thinks the defenders of the city should be united by a strong god, and who better to understand the inner battles of the shadar-kai than the warrior god?”

Vedoran and the man finished speaking. Vedoran bowed and came over to them. A man came through one of the curtained doorways and nodded when he saw Cree. Cree grinned and went to greet the man. The two of them spoke for a breath or two, then Cree followed the man behind the curtain.

“We may as well go on,” Vedoran said. “They’ve already found their amusements.”

Ashok saw that Skagi and Chanoch had found partners, too, and were so engrossed in their own conversations, it was as if Ashok and Vedoran didn’t exist.

“What of you?” Ashok asked.

Vedoran shrugged. “I seek other enjoyments,” he said, his eyes glinting. “And I promised to show you the Span.”

Curious, Ashok nodded to the stair. “Lead on,” he said.

“Not that way,” Vedoran said. “We’ll take the shorter route.”

He led them past the curtained doorways-Ashok caught hints of scented oils in the fabrics-and turned down one of the short corridors ending in an open archway. Vedoran nodded to the guard that stood at the entry and walked out on the ledge.

At a hundred feet up, the wind whipped their cloaks. Ashok walked to the edge of the ledge and looked down. He could see the market, the people, and the colors swirling together like a spilled stew. They stood adjacent to the canyon wall, a jagged slope that curved above them, blocking out most of the light. Somewhere behind them unseen, the waterfall spilled behind Tower Makthar. The wind carried the damp across the space into their faces. Twin lanterns hung from poles near the archway, and the light reflecting off the cavern wall cast eldritch shadows all around them. But for the wind, there was silence.

For a long breath, neither of them spoke. Ashok stood at the edge of the abyss, an observer, a part of the throng below and yet removed from them.

“You feel in control now, don’t you?” Vedoran said from behind him.