Bridging the Ancient ✓

Chapter 39

When we arrived here last night, I didn't think it was possible for Ducoria to get any uglier. Yet, as the sun rises and light streams through the mud-filled streets of this twisted city, I find that it is possible for the shadows to hide more than expected.

Every grim detail is illuminated by the light of day. More blood stains, more urine and feces thrown in the streets, more trash that no one will bother to pick up. Along with that, an endless number of rats scurry about. I try to avoid cringing at as we ride through the streets on the saddles of our horses.

Not only is the entire city discovered in the daylight but the same goes for us and the citizens. Faces are clear, revealing dark tattoos over their visible skin. Most have ink on their faces or down their necks to tell a story that I don't have the opportunity to understand. Same as Renit's tattoo, these people tell a story. At least the prince keeps his artwork fresh and clean.

The citizens of Ducoria have a lack of care for hygiene. Their clothes are covered in mud from the days walking through the alleys and over rooftops to scout and steal what others will miss the chance on. Patches have been stitched on and most are falling off, revealing bits of mud-splattered or infected flesh from previous wounds. I've seen one too many burn marks from hot blades to stop the bleeding.

I doubt there are proper healers around here—if there are, they have their hands full for the rest of their lives. Ducoria is a ticking explosion waiting to smoke the entire kingdom and the king will do nothing about the conditions they've put themselves in. At least I thought so, until Renit told me his father considered mass execution for those that wouldn't clean up their act.

But that was hundreds of years ago and nothing came of it. I was glad to hear that.

These people have survived long without the presence of good graces from the capital. No one wants to trade here so visiting merchants don't intrude when they'll likely be stolen from rather than receive the proper payment for their wares. All trading that happens inside Ducoria is from the residents themselves and whatever they've managed to scrounge up amongst each other. Mostly stolen items, evident by the few brawls that have already broken out.

Renit was there to break them up and all brawls were the result of stealing. One accusing the other and punches were thrown. The prince didn't involve himself further but promised that the kingdom was watching, if they wanted to keep themselves hidden from the watchful eye of the king then they would mind their matters.

He received strange looks rather than people obeying. There are guards stationed in Ducoria but they've long abandoned their posts. Instead, they drown themselves in the unhealthy luxuries this city provides. They live in intact estates on the outskirts, what the Ducorians consider to be the 'high waste' of the population.

The only difference between the guards and the Ducorians is the king's men are paid to live in such a terrible place. Allowance is sent monthly from the king, more than those guards would ever need, and the citizens don't see one copper coin of it. I'm surprised they haven't stolen the pay for themselves.

But that all goes back to keeping their heads down low to avoid the king's eye. If they keep themselves in line, all the while living in a mess, the king will never turn their way. They're smarter than they look, considering one of them managed to steal the dagger from the sheath at my hip and I didn't notice until hours later.

Renit promised to buy me a new one, in Lona, where the finest blacksmiths spend their days. The city of the reject witches. Every time I think about going there, a shiver grips my spine and shakes hard. My power will not stand up to the strength of theirs and I hate to say it but, Renit's won't either. All alone in a place that searches for fights around every corner, the prince will find his hands full protecting us from those that wish to hunt.