Ridge: Day One

7. THE DAY LEADS DOWN

Hamel closed the front gate behind him and turned east, then north. His hood was up and fell just enough over his face to disguise him from everyone but his closest friends.

He moved down the road where he had run into the two soldiers just a short while before. The shift had changed, and two new soldiers stood at attention, watching carefully for any threats to the nation and any danger to its people.

His mind drifted back to the two men who had challenged him. He smiled at the memory. Somehow the whole situation seemed funny.

The road to the lower sections of the city was much like all the other roads: up and down. It continued like that for three miles through the city before it made a steep decline. The lower sections were filled with all those without honor as Hamel was now. Everyone from thieves to murderers lived and worked out of the lower sections.

Hamel had not been in that area for many years. When he was seventeen and apprenticing under his adopted Matir, Rezin Mathel, she had taken him down there one day to show him parts of the city he had not even known existed. She hoped that he would find a way to address what she had called the "pain" of the area. He had not understood at the time what she was talking about, but then came to realize how much the people of the lower sections were hurting. When he had become Honored Patir, he had invested much time in addressing some of the violence and despair that existed in the lower sections, but there was much more to be done.

On that first visit, many years before, he had been appalled by what he had seen. His Matir had introduced him to a man who had been disgraced. He and Mathel had spoken with the man at length. While his Matir had shown compassion and interest, Hamel had been disgusted by what he saw.

Many years had passed since that day, and he no longer felt such arrogance. In addition to the change in his heart, his own circumstances had become similar to that man. He wished for a few more minutes to speak with him, but the Dusk would have taken him decades before.

The point where the lower sections began was a very abrupt change from the upper sections. While in the upper section, buildings were well cared for—even the empty ones. The buildings in the lower sections were not. The walls were cracked, and some roofs had holes in them.

The people he saw on the streets did not walk in peace but moved warily with each step. Few of the men, women or children were without marks on their bodies, either from sickness or injury.

Now and then he would pass a man or a woman screaming out in fear or anger. The older ones, some appearing as old as thirty-three or even thirty-four, those who were well set upon by the Dusk, were lying on the side of the road. They called out for loved ones to either help them or yelled at people who were no longer there. No one came to their aid.

The cloak he had chosen to wear was far from clean or in good repair. He had selected that cloak because of its age and poor condition and had even added some rips and dirt in preparation for his journey. He wished to pass unknown and unrecognized for at least part of the day.

On one level, he knew he would be well accepted and even celebrated by some in the lower regions after his disgrace. Others, however, would see him as an enemy. He did not want to have to navigate either for the time being.

He wanted to familiarize himself with the area. While he had been down in the lower sections many times as an Honored Patir or in his role as General, it was a bit of a maze to most people. He had studied old maps of the area to understand the layout of that area of the city, but even so, much had changed since the maps had been drawn. Entire blocks of buildings had come down while streets and walkways had been closed off with new buildings. Where there had been a garden, there might be a market. Where there had been a fountain, there might be a series of poorly built homes.

The man he was looking for was named Eddel. Eddel fancied himself a man of great honor and had titled himself, Patir Eddel. The thought of calling such a man "Patir" turned Hamel's stomach, but the situation required him to overcome his bias.

Hamel wandered the streets for most of the morning. Three times he found himself the victim of an attempted robbery. Two of the times, the men who attempted to steal from Hamel regretted their action immediately. On the third time, it was a young child, and Hamel had let him go.

He wandered throughout the day and into the evening. When it came time to sleep, he did not make his way home again. He found an inn of sorts and paid for a room. He had never spent the night in such a place before. The smell alone was enough to drive him away, but he remained.

When he entered his rented room, there was already a man sleeping in the bed. The man did not wake while Hamel carried him into the hallway and set him gently in a corner.

The furniture in the room was old, broken, and scratched, but it served his purpose well. He used some of it to secure the room for the night and, once he felt the door was well barricaded, he used the blankets, a pillow, and a broken lamp to create the shape of his body on the bed. When he was finished, he looked on with satisfaction on the shape of a sleeping "Hamel."

He was a stranger in the area, and a stranger could mean money. He could take no chances. He settled in a corner just to the right of the door, dozing off behind a broken wardrobe.

When the three men came in, they did not hesitate. The door smashed open, and the furniture fell out of the way. Two men fired three shots each into the man-shaped pile before the third approached the bed and pulled back the covers.

Hamel did not like to kill, but he suspected the three men would not let the matter go if he merely incapacitated them. He also needed to get the attention of Patir Eddel sooner rather than later.

Hamel stepped from behind the wardrobe and drove the man nearest him headfirst into the stone wall. The second man fell to Hamel's knife and the third to his own sidearm, once Hamel had disarmed the man.

As he left the three bodies behind, he made sure not one lay in a position that suggested they had died peacefully. A message needed to be sent.

Hamel stepped into the street and breathed in the early morning air. It would be another beautiful day.

He set off down the street as the sun began to rise. He had packed enough food for a day and a half—enough to carry him through the mid-day meal. He did not care to find food in the lower sections until he better understood the situation. Poison was a lot more difficult to deal with than three untrained men he could face in battle.

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