Songbird

Chapter Twelve - Bellhaven

Kal squinted into the sun, looking up at the walls of Bellhaven. He and the Hounds were trudging along in the great line of travelers waiting to enter the city. Behind them were the expansive farmlands that fed the city, great swathes of golden wheat and corn swaying in the breeze alongside fields of potatoes, carrots, lettuce, and other vegetables in addition to orchards of apples, peaches, and pears, and shrubs heavy with all manner of berries. Animals grazed between the crops in fenced-off fields, as well. Kal could see sheep, cows, chickens, and pigs mingling with wild birds and other small creatures, and dogs kept watch over the livestock.

The line crawled forward, and Kal marveled at the height of the walls. Corvin had told him that in times past the city had weathered sieges and battles alike but had never fallen, even during the Mage Wars. A gatehouse crouched over the main gate, a drawbridge spanning the dry moat like an outstretched tongue from the mouth of the gate. The portcullis hung from above, spikes protruding like teeth.

A cohort of guards stood on the far side of the drawbridge, their crisp uniforms embroidered with the city's sigil on the left shoulder, a bronze bell framed by a laurel. They wore loose beige trousers and tall boots, as well as sky-blue waistcoats. Wide-brimmed hats shielded their faces from the sun. They carried guns that Leah identified as rifles, their superior range and accuracy making them better suited for service on the walls than the more common musket. Sabres hung from the officers' belts, and each guard carried a pistol holstered at their hip.

"Heavily armed, aren't they?" Kal said.

Corvin shrugged. "Not inordinately so. You could find guards carrying as much firepower in most any town."

"Really..." There weren't even professional guards back home, only a small militia.

At last the group reached the gate, and a mustachioed guard with a white sash and a sergeant's emblem on his right shoulder examined them, his eyes lingering on the Hounds' myriad weapons.

"Morning," he said. "What's your business?"

"Looking for it," Corvin said. "We're the Black Hounds, swords for hire."

The guard grunted. "Mercenaries. I might have guessed. Just see that you don't cause any trouble."

"We wouldn't dream of it."

"See that you don't. Now, you can keep your swords, but the locks stay with us."

Kal thought that Corvin might object, but the mercenary inclined his head.

"Of course."

Another guard confiscated the guns in exchange for numbered tickets they could use to retrieve them later, then the sergeant stepped aside.

"Go on, then. Welcome to Bellhaven."

The sounds and smells of the city washed over them as they proceeded through the gate and onto a wide thoroughfare. A market lay before them, the reek of fresh fish hanging in the air alongside the scents of ripe fruit, hay, and horse dung, and the calls of vendors rose out of the buzz of conversation as goods were haggled over.

The cobbled street curved away as it ascended the hill the city was built on, leading to shops, inns, and taverns. This lower section of the city was the poorest, filled with modest homes and crowded tenements, seedy pubs, and stables. Higher up the hill were less closely-packed homes, restaurants, and cleaner shops and inns, as well as public areas like parks, thoroughfares, and fountain squares. Crowning the city was the wealthy district that Kal had seen in his dreams, containing great manors with their own walled-in yards and gardens, and a towering cathedral rose elegantly above even the most extravagant of them, its flying buttresses and stained glass windows setting it apart.