Raymond E. Feist - The Complete Darkwar Trilogy - Flight of the Night Hawks, Into a Dark Realm, Wrath of a Mad God

Each corner they turned brought them new sights, and they were constantly besieged by beggars, hawkers and thieves. The boys often batted away curious hands that were reaching to see if a purse might be tucked away behind a saddle or at the girth.

Charioteers of the Trueblood forced their way through the streets by cracking their whips above the heads of the commoners, who ducked out of the way to let the nobles pass. The heavy thud of boot-heels hitting cobblestones caused the boys to turn in their saddles. They saw a full company of black-armoured soldiers heading their way.

Caleb motioned for them to move their horses to the side of the road, and by the time they had reached the street’s verge, the soldiers were passing them. Even the charioteers moved out of the way of the hundred men who marched towards them. They were armoured from head to foot – black pointed helms with nose bars and chain neck guards, black chest plates over black leather jackets, decorated with a single Keshian royal hawk, grieves and leggings – all fashioned from black steel. Their shields were square and slightly curved, so that they could form an interlocking shield wall, and each soldier carried a short spear over one shoulder and a shortsword at his side.

The sergeants’ helms had short ridges across them and were topped with a horsehair bristle. The officers rode behind them in matching uniforms save that their crests sat fore to aft, and their horsehair bristles were a hand’s span taller than the sergeants’.

‘That’s the Inner Legion,’ said Caleb as the boys watched in awe. ‘Kesh’s dog soldiers are stationed from here to the Vale, but these lads are given the protection of the capital and the imperial palace. They’ll not budge from this city, which is a good thing for their neighbours, as they tend to pick the toughest bastards in the army for that legion.’ He pointed up towards the citadel on top of the plateau.

When the soldiers had passed, he motioned for them to start moving again and after another half an hour they reached an inn. Its sign showed three willow trees in a row. Caleb led Tad and Zane through the gate into the stabling yard and a boy hurried to meet them.

Once the horses were turned over to the lackey, they entered the inn. It had a spacious, clean, and quiet common room, and they headed straight for the bar, where they were greeted by a tall, thin man with iron-grey hair and a full beard. ‘Caleb! he cried out in greeting. ‘It’s good to see you again. Who are the lads behind you?’

‘This is Tad,’ Caleb said putting a hand on Tad’s shoulder, ‘and this is Zane,’ he added putting his other hand on Zane’s shoulder. ‘They are my sons.’

‘Sons!’ said the barman, coming around to extend his hand in greeting. ‘All these years I’ve known you and never one word about being married, let alone having sons.’

‘It’s a recent thing. I’ve adopted them.’ He gave their shoulders a playful squeeze and slapped them on the back, then said, ‘Boys, this is Pablo Maguire, owner of the Three Willows.’

The boys exchanged glances at the names – for they were as alien to Kesh as Tsurani names would have been – and the old innkeeper noticed. Smiling he said, ‘My mother is from Rodez, – hence Pablo , after my grandfather – and my father came from Kinnochaide,’ he said, using the Kinnochman’s name for Kinnoch Province. ‘Which is why I’m a Maguire, and as for how I came to be running a tavern in the heart of Great Kesh is another story for another time.’ He spoke with the lilting rhythm the people of Kinnoch gave to their speech, and apparently to any language, as he spoke Keshian.

‘I’ll need two rooms,’ said Caleb. ‘Or the one big one at the end of the hall if it’s free.’

‘It’s not, sad to say, for it’s already occupied by a great lady and her daughters.’ He glanced at the boys and said, ‘Better steer a wide course away from them, lads, for they are Truebloods.’

Caleb’s eyebrows went up in silent question, and Maguire feigned offence. ‘What? A fine lady can’t heave to at my inn?’

Caleb laughed. ‘Obviously one can and has.’

Pablo’s eyes were merry as he said, ‘I know what you’re thinking: with all the great residence houses in the city, why here? Well, truth to tell, they’re not all wealthy or high-born, though—’ he directed his remark to the boys ‘—they all act as if they’re related to the Emperor and even the lowest Trueblood is still higher-born than the highest of the rest of us!’ Looking at Caleb, he continued, ‘This lady’s in for the Midsummer’s Festival.’

‘It’s a month away,’ said Caleb.

‘Well, she and the girls are buying things right now. I believe her husband is some governor or an important man in one of the southern provinces, and he’s coming up to pay his respects to the Imperial family, or something like that. She tells me nothing, so I’ve had to piece that information together over the last week. They’ll be here a while, so—’ again he looked at the boys ‘—if you want to keep your heads on your shoulders give the girls room. The Trueblood have no sense of humour when it comes to their daughters’ association with common boys.’

Tad and Zane glanced at one another and Tad shrugged. ‘We’ll behave ourselves,’ he said.

Caleb gripped them both by the shoulders again and said, ‘I’ll make sure they do. Now, let’s get cleaned up and have something to eat. I have a quick errand I must run, and then we can see some of the city in the evening. Tomorrow, we start working.’

Tad and Zane nodded, they knew that working had two meanings, and they were very nervous about the one that wouldn’t be obvious.

Zane pointed. ‘Look at those.’

Tad nodded and they approached the vendor whose booth was set up against the southernmost boundary wall of the main bazaar in the Hajana District of the lower city. The boys had been in Kesh a week now and were still hard pressed not to get lost.

They had carried out the same mission each day while Caleb was off on his own business. They wandered the merchant districts of the city, paying attention to everything they saw, and then at the end of the day they told Caleb what they had witnessed. Their cover-story was that they were scouting for possible items of interest to sell in the north – Krondor specifically, and that they were from the Vale of Dreams, hence their odd accents.

The newness of the Keshian city was beginning to wear off, though they were still easily distracted by some of its younger female inhabitants who passed by. Dress customs ranged from head-to-toe tribal dress that left only the eyes exposed, to the near-nudity of the Oshani lion hunters, Dingazi cattle herders and the Truebloods themselves. The boys would often stand in mute amazement as a dark-skinned girl of alien beauty walked by, ignoring the gawking northern youths. But even that distraction was beginning to wear off as they grew accustomed to it. And from a couple of ill-timed overtures made to passing girls in the city, they had learned that outlanders were seen as barely worthy of civility, let alone friendliness. Caleb had warned them that Kesh was an empire of many nations, some of whom were bitter enemies of others, and only the iron rule of the Emperor kept them from open warfare. Civility was a function of the rule of law, not a social concern.

Zane motioned for Tad to follow him to the vendor’s table, passing a hawker offering lemon-flavoured cool water from an earthenware jar strapped to his back. The boys were dressed in their lightest clothes and were still not used to the heat, though they had been told that the city would get even hotter over the next few months.

The items that had caught Zane’s eye were an unusual bunch of religious icons. Some of them were familiar to the boys, but others weren’t. They examined them under the wary gaze of the merchant, who appeared ready in case they attempted to dash off with an item without paying for it. After a few minutes, he demanded, ‘Buy now or move along. I have no time for such as you.’