Wolf Captured (13 page)

DERIAN SAW HARJEEDIAN’S SCOWL and knew that Firekeeper had regained whatever ground she’d lost over Harjeedian’s gibe about Blind Seer’s safety. The wolf-woman knew it, too, and he thought that if she had a tail it would be held as proudly as Blind Seers’s was at this moment, a jaunty plume rather than merely a trailing appendage.

However, whatever satisfaction he felt over his friend’s victory simply intensified the emotions he felt at his first sight of u-Seeheera, the First City.

As far as architectural flourishes and fancies, u-Seeheera was far less overwhelming and astonishing than Dragon’s Breath, the capital of New Kelvin. Indeed, u-Seeheera was less impressive than even a small New Kelvinese town. Yet, while the Liglimom seemed to lack the New Kelvinese taste for the fantastic, neither were they given over to the sense for practicality and comfort that dominated the majority of buildings in Hawk Haven and Bright Bay. Instead the buildings of u-Seeheera seemed designed to proclaim monolithic stability.

Overall the buildings were constructed from glazed bricks. The exteriors were sharply angular, but contrasted and softened by the curve of arched doorways and windows. These were often built from bricks glazed in a contrasting shade, so a pale grey building might have doorways of bright blue or shining yellow.

Even had the bricks all been the more usual red, the buildings would have been kept from severity by the riot of growth that contrasted with the underlying brick. Vines surged up the sides of buildings, showering the stone with foliage and brilliant flowers. Planters held yet more flowers, and even slender trees. In many cases, the foliage was unfamiliar to Derian, but then he’d never been much for plants, other than noticing what could and couldn’t be eaten—and enjoying the beauty of an occasional flower.

The road Harjeedian directed their escort to follow had been cleared of routine traffic, making its breadth even more impressive. The road had two sides, divided by a wide walkway that Harjeedian explained was meant for pedestrian traffic. The pedestrian walk alone was wider than most of the city streets in Eagle’s Nest and was ornamented with planters. Sections of the walkway were constructed of brightly colored mosaic, often counterpointing similar designs on planters or nearby walls.

To this point in his experience, all of the cities Derian had visited had evolved—in some cases to the point of self-strangulation. This one had clearly been designed, and designed with either growth or an existing large population in mind.

Streets crossed each other at precise intervals, their surfaces paved with stone or brick. The paving stones showed deep grooves worn by carts. Where pavers had been replaced, the newer stones had been grooved in turn. Gutters ran alongside the curbs, testifying that at some times rain must fall very heavily in this area. The lack of filth in the gutters argued for good sewers or a well-managed street-cleaning system.

The roofs of the surrounding buildings were peaked, but lacked the sharp angle Derian had seen in regions where snow was a regular occurrence and must be encouraged to slide off lest its weight collapse the building onto itself. In u-Seeheera, the slope of the roofs was more gentle. The architectural motif of each unit of buildings was maintained in the materials used for shingling and even to the pattern in which those shingles were cut and layered. Slate dominated some sections, in others tiles rounded to further channel water were the favored choice.

Down near the harbor, the buildings had a sturdy, practical appearance that mutely reminded Derian how violent hurricanes could be. The city streets sloped uphill, and where the chance of flooding was reduced, the buildings became more elaborately decorated. The brickwork trim was set in regularly repeating geometric designs. The closer they drew to the towering step pyramid, the more often animal-inspired designs began to be seen. These were not merely painted onto the brick, but molded, so that twenty or more bricks were needed to complete a design.

The creatures represented were not always ones Derian recognized, though there were the familiar, if stylized, forms of horses, dogs, snakes, and large cats. Fanciful renditions of many of these same animals, but with wings or strangely patterned coats, were also depicted. Once Derian would have dismissed these monsters as whimsy—creatures from Old Country tales told to amuse children on cold winter nights. Now he had seen too much to do so, and he found himself wondering if there really were creatures with human heads, the bodies of bulls, and the wings of eagles.

From the way Barnet was looking around, Derian guessed that the other man had not come so far into the city on his earlier visit. Barnet confirmed his guess.

“Last time they kept us in one of the buildings down by the harbor. We were treated well, even had a nice interior courtyard in which we could take the air, but our hosts seemed eager not to expose us to the bulk of the population.”

“Like now,” Derian said, dropping his voice, though he really didn’t care if anyone overheard. “I’ve been looking, but unless the locals can look out the windows without being seen, we might as well be marching along the bottom of the ocean for all we’re being noticed.”

“Less so,” Barnet agreed. “I’d guess on the seabottom the fish might drop down to take a look.”

“Is it just that by local standards we’re weird-looking and they don’t want to start a riot?” Derian asked.

“I don’t think so,” Barnet replied. “The sailors on
Fayonejunjal
didn’t seem unduly impressed or frightened by our differences. They seemed to feel superior rather than otherwise, especially when they learned how easily Some of us sunburn.”

Then I guess we’re a state secret of some sort,
Derian thought, but he didn’t say it aloud. He figured Barnet was along to continue as a language teacher, more for Harjeedian than for Derian. They were reaching the point where Derian would need a local to help him along. Barnet was still ahead of him, but the minstrel often needed to ask Harjeedian to explain why some part of speech worked the way it did.

However, there was another possible reason Barnet hadbeen included in their party—as a spy. His easygoing manner and affability made it easy to confide in him, but Derian hadn’t forgotten that Barnet had gathered much of the information that had been used to capture them. The minstrel might be doing a related job now, except his goal would be to keep them from escaping without warning.

Unaccustomed as their time at sea had made him to walking long distances, Derian was beginning to regret not letting himself be carried to his destination, even if the conveyance in question would have been a cage, when he heard a soft gasp of wonder from Firekeeper.

He looked up—for a long while now his gaze had been on his own plodding boot toes—and saw that they had reached the end of the road. “Culmination” might be a better word. Derian knew without explanation that this entire grand progression was meant to inspire just such a gasp of wonder.

Before them stood a towering gate, the midpoint between walls that swept away side to side, their upper edge shaped to evoke the rise and fall of ocean waves. The walls were made of bricks glazed a shining blue-green, but the gate was a brilliant golden yellow. Something glittery—mica fragments, Derian thought—had been set in the glaze, so that the bricks sparkled. They must be magnificent at sunrise. Even now, at midday, the effect was remarkable.

Both gate and walls were set with molded designs. Those on the walls showed sea creatures, both fanciful and real. The gate depicted animals, but here Derian noticed a marked difference. Every animal represented was real. There were peculiar shades and textures to coats, but in no instance did he see wings on a creature that shouldn’t have them, or that unsettling melding of human and animal characteristics.

“This,” Harjeedian said with what Derian felt was perfectly excusable pride, “is Heeranenahalm, the City of Temples. It is where the elect live, and the deities are honored. Walk with respect, for many of even our own citizens are restricted from coming here except for special feasts.”

Derian glanced at Firekeeper.

“Got that?” he asked.

Firekeeper nodded with more solemnity than he expected.

“This is a formal dress place,” she said.

Harjeedian led them through the gate into a plaza walled with buildings several stories high. Crossing the plaza, he turned left. The walls surrounding them might have been oppressive but for the omnipresent greenery and the width of the road. Again Derian was made strongly aware of the planning that had gone into this city.

Harjeedian was setting a rapid enough pace that Derian couldn’t look around as much as he’d like, but he had the impression of more gleaming bricks and even more incredible flowers. Unlike along the road through the city, here he saw they were watched, but the watchers looked out from over walls or from balconies, and made no sound or comment. The uniform silence was more disturbing than any shouting or jeering could have been, and soon Derian focused his eyes directly in front of him rather than risk catching someone’s gaze.

Their escort stopped before a building made from bricks glazed an unnaturally bright and shining green. Harjeedian motioned for them to wait, and went forward to a gate trimmed in golden yellow. He said something in his own language and received a measured reply. Then he spoke again.

This had to be ritual of some sort, Derian decided. There was no way they weren’t expected. He wondered that they hadn’t been cleaned up more, then wondered if the contrast of their own workday grubbiness was meant to make them feel humbled. Well, he’d lived several moonspans in Dragon’s Breath, the capital of New Kelvin, and though u-Seeheera was impressive, he was beyond being awed by tall buildings and intricate architecture.

Barnet looked a bit pale, though, and Derian felt a completely unkind surge of satisfaction. It was good to know the Islander wasn’t always on top of the situation.

Stepping back a pace and craning his neck, Derian looked around with assumed nonchalance. He guessed that this green wall was not part of a building, but rather the wall of a compound of related buildings. A smaller step pyramid rose from the center of the complex, its apex topped with a statue of a coiled snake, mouth gaping and ready to strike. The exterior walls continued this serpentine motif. The arched doorway, in which Harjeedian stood conversing with several men dressed much like himself, was carved in the shape of a large snake, coiled around and holding its tail in its mouth.

The carved snake atop the pyramid looked slightly cross-eyed, and Derian had to fight back what he was certain was a very unwise urge to laugh. Firekeeper seemed to have no such impulse. Indeed, her dark eyes were wide and unguardedly frightened as she inspected what was obviously their destination.

“This place smell of poison,” she said. “We no go in?”

She spoke not as one who plans to defy, but as one who knows that defiance is not an option and hopes against hope that what one dreads will not happen.

“I think this is our destination,” Derian said, putting a hand on her arm. “You won’t cause trouble, will you?”

“I give parole,” Firekeeper said firmly, but when he touched her arm, Derian couldn’t help but notice that she was shaking.

VI

FOR ALL THE CEREMONY at the gateway between Harjeedian and the ones who stood within, the three captives and their escort passed into the compound with hardly any recognition at all of their coming.

“You will be greeted by all the great teachers,” Harjeedian said, “at one time and in one place. For now you are to wash and rest, and pray to whomever you make offerings. So it is said.”

Firekeeper noticed a new rhythm had entered Harjeedian’s speech, and the strange, precise accent with which he spoke his excellent Pellish had become stronger.

She also sensed he was a bit miffed.

“So the welcome by his Ones did not happen as he dreamed,”
she said to Blind Seer.
“I wish my ears were more keen.”

“Mine are sharp enough,”
the wolf boasted, as was his way. Modesty was not considered a virtue among the wolves.
“But though I have been studying this new language as have you, I did not understand enough to account for his unhappiness. All I could gather was that Harjeedian’s teachers were not having things their own way and that student shared his masters’ unhappiness.”

Firekeeper thought about this.

“I noticed that after we passed through the golden gate. we passed other compounds like this one. I wonder if each one houses a hive of these teachers. It would explain much. We are but one flower, and they are many bees.”

“Many bees and many hives,”
Blind Seer agreed,
“though this hive into which Harjeedian has taken us has about it the reek of a nest of snakes rather than honey.”

Firekeeper nodded her agreement.

Unspeaking, Harjeedian led them through a maze of cool shaded walkways to a twisted, wrought-iron gate. Harjeedian unlocked the gate, waving them before him into a flower and vine adorned courtyard. There was a small pool at the courtyard’s center. Alongside the pool were a low table and several chairs. Flowering plants grew both from the soil and from ornate, mosaic-adorned pots, perfuming the air so heavily that Blind Seer sneezed.