Shadows Bleed

XXXI

XXXI

The letter I received from the beggar-child directed me to the older city district; the dwellings of the poor and misfortunate. The slums were located in a secluded region to the south of the city, well away from where the upper-class would ever have to venture. The city sector, in itself, was not particularly large and, in its own way, evidenced the efforts of the Imperium to equalise the classes, even if such endeavours were decades in the making.

Regardless, the squalor in which the inhabitants of the old city lived astonished me, forcing the realisation that some humans were considered beneath even the Aer Savarthim, a shocking revelation in itself.

The letter gave instructions to travel until I happened upon a canal, to follow it until I reached a grate in the city wall through which it flowed. I paid close attention to my surroundings as I walked, bedraggled children running through the dust, old men crowded around crates playing cards. What hope did they have of a better life?

A hundred metres ahead of me was the wall, the muddied water of the canal flowing through a steel grate embedded in the stone. Two men stood by it, their light, clean cotton shirts beneath leather jerkins and matching trews segregating them from their surroundings. Each had a short sword strapped to the belt around his waist.

They carried themselves as men of the military do, with the strength and demeanour of those trained for war. I wondered if these two men were Vaskarth's spies. Then again, he had said 'agent', implying one, not more.

They caught sight of me and began walking towards me from the small wooden pier that branched into the canal, the same location the letter had directed me to.

I reached over my shoulder, hand closing on the hilt of the dirk on my back. The action was unnecessary, one of the men holding up his hands and pointing to the letter in my right hand.

"You are Aeriae Llewyn?" he asked.

"That depends," I replied suspiciously.

"I am Lan Kartyr. My master is waiting to speak with you," his companion continued. "We will take you to him."

I consented, allowing my hand drop to my side. With relieved looks on their faces, they indicated for me to follow them to the pier. A gondola floated in the canal and, at their urging, I stepped into the boat. Kartyr offered me a hand as the boat rocked under the shift in weight.

"Thank you," I said, forcing a smile.

"Don't thank me yet," he said with a grin. "You'll need to stay hidden until we're out of the city. That's the best we could do."

He pointed to a bundle of old, brown-stained rags and sacks.

"Don't fear, it's only earth, from farmers." he assured me.

Visually, it was still rather affronting. I sighed and did as I was told, crawling into the foetal position on the deck so the two men could place the cloth bags and rags over me, effectively hiding me from sight.

Shortly afterwards the boat jolted sharply and we were off. Despite my stuffy, airless environment, at the very least I could be thankful for the fact that my coverings only appeared filthy, their scent failing to match their appearance.

I was left in the dark, both figuratively and literally, as we continued to progress, unsure as to our destination. I guessed maybe ten minutes had passed when the gondola finally slowed to a stop.

"Hail!" a voice shouted from somewhere above. "State your business and cargo."

"We're headed out of the city to burn our waste," Kartyr answered. "We are employees of Messer Ban Jacques, the Imperial tailor."