Bound to the battle god

27

We walk for maybe another hour before we get into Katharn proper. The scattered streets grow increasingly dense as we move forward, and then lift up, surprisingly enough. They change from rutted, muddy roads to paved bridges and cobbled, wide roads, and I see why soon enough—Katharn has a big river ru

There are people everywhere, too. They crowd around us, pushing their way through the streets as if they own them. There are fewer horses—land-hippos, whatever—here, simply because there's no room. There are tons of rats, though, and long-eared cats that chase after them.

And there's filth everywhere. It's piled up in the streets, against buildings, and everyone looks so damn dirty.

I'm really not liking the look of the place, but I didn't expect it to be so nasty. The little farms we passed were crude, and Omos's library was small but clean. Aventine was dusty but orderly. Heck, Tadekha had a glittering crystal palace floating in the air, so I know these people can be clean.

It's clear that Katharn just chooses not to be.

I study the piles of buildings, all falling onto each other, and move a little closer to Aron as I do. He's quiet, but the hood is pulled over his head so far that it's not exactly conducive to conversation. Still, I wish he'd say something. I feel better just hearing his voice, even if he is making sourpuss comments. A man with a dead chicken hanging from his hand leers at me as he walks a little too closely and I move closer to Aron. "So, uh, what's an i

"You ask me as if I stay here often."

Good ol' Aron. "It's your damn world, not mine."

"This is not my city. Were it my choice, we would never set foot here.” He pulls the hood down lower.

Well, that makes two of us. I avoid chicken man and walk a little faster, and I'm relieved to see that Aron stays close to my side. We turn down a side street and find a marketplace, and before we can leave, Aron drags me over to a small tent where someone’s selling knives. Aron points at one, so I buy it. Then he points at another, and another, and a short time later, we’re light on money and loaded with weapons. I want to gripe that we need to save our money for better things, but then Aron will just gripe back at me, and he’s at least staying quiet.

And if we need the weapons? We’ll be glad to have them. So I shut up about it.

After that, I flag down a woman who's got an enormous basket of laundry on her hip and ask her where the closest i

But we make it, and I'm so damn relieved to see the red tiled roof of the i

"Going inside?" He peers out from under the hood with a scathing expression. "Did you plan on standing out here all night?"

I bite back my snotty retort—arrogance, arrogance, arrogance, he can't help himself—and push the i

The inside of the i

I pull my cloak a little tighter around my clothes, even though it's warm. I feel naked despite the layers of clothing. Naked and unsafe. Maybe this was a bad call. There's a real rapey vibe to this place. Goody.

Aron nudges my shoulder, and I glance over at him. He's still got the hood pulled down heavily over his face, which is good. He's waiting on me, though. Right. I look around for someone that might be in charge, and when I see the bar off over by the enormous fireplace, I head there.

A big bearded man stands behind the bar, and he's the first person that doesn't leer at me in this building, so I like him already. He nods at me. "Travelers?"

"Yes. We're looking for a room." I give him my brightest, most businesslike smile.

"Three drabs a night," he tells me. Omos walked me through how money works here, and so I know what coin that is.

I feel around in my money pouch furtively and then toss the coins down on the counter. "One night."

"One room, then?"

I grit my teeth. "Yup."

This time the man smirks and takes the coins. "Room two's open tonight. Bowl of stew and tankard of ale included with the room. More than that and it'll cost you."

"Thank you," I say politely, and then glance around the dirty, poorly lit room. "Sit anywhere?"

"Anywhere ya want. Inside, outside, all the same to me." He pockets the money and turns away.

All right, I'm guessing this doesn't work like most restaurants back home. Fine then. I glance at Aron and gesture over at the fire. "Let's get some food and find a seat." I move forward without checking to see if he follows me, and by the fire, there's a stack of earthenware bowls. I manage to ladle my own stew without burning myself and grab one of the big wooden spoons tossed in a shallow basket. Not very clean, but I'm starting to think nothing in this town is. "You grab a bowl, too," I tell Aron, and then I survey the tavern area for two empty seats.

There's room at the end of one of the longest tables, but there's also a very gross-looking man I'd have to cuddle up next to, and the thought makes my stomach curdle. His dark hair is greasy, his face is several days unshaven, and he's missing half his teeth. He keeps looking over at me and rubbing his crotch, and I swallow hard.

Well, shit. If the goal is to spend the evening gathering information and listening to rumors, I guess I'm going to have to sit next to someone. I move forward with my bowl—only to have Aron push in front of me. He takes his food and slaps it down on the table and sits next to the filthy creep, then has a seat. He gestures at the open spot on the far side of him—at the end of the table, where no one will sit next to me.

In that moment, I could cheerfully kiss Aron.

I happily slide into the empty spot and clean my spoon on the hem of my tunic. As I do, I notice it's quiet, but when I start to eat, the conversation picks up again. A woman swings by and drops two mugs in front of Aron and me, and a quick taste reveals that it's a watery-tasting beer of some kind. Ugh. I drink it anyhow, because I'm thirsty as hell. The stew is a little greasy but otherwise heavenly, and I devour mine with gusto. I sneak a glance over at Aron, and he's sitting, hood still over his face, idly dragging the spoon through his food.

"Where you from?"

I look up at the old man across the table from me. Bearded, scarred, but mostly clean. Seems fairly harmless, I hope. "Me?" When he nods, I think quickly. "Aventine."

He nods over at Aron. "You too?"

"Oh, my master doesn't speak," I say quickly, putting my hand on Aron's arm before he can talk. "He's mute."

The stranger looks at us suspiciously, but when Aron doesn't speak up, he grunts and returns to his food. "Long journey to Aventine."

"Definitely wasn't fun," I agree.

"It true what they say? ’Bout the Citadel?"

I pause. "What about it?"

"Destroyed?" His eyes are piercing.

I blink and feign ignorance even as Aron kicks me under the table. I kick him back. "I wouldn't know. Haven't been there…so. Where are you from?"

"Here," he says, and belches. "Better to be leaving this place than arriving, if you ask me."

That sounds ominous. "Oh? Why?"

"Riots. Thieves. A plague of dead babies. Haunted fields. Take your pick," says another man farther down the table who can't stop staring at my clothed boobs. He's a bit pervy, but he glances over at Aron and makes his gaze more respectful.

That all sounds terrible. "Why is it so crazy?" I ask, and reach for Aron's bowl of stew. He pushes it toward me and I trade him bowls, handing over my empty one.

The men look at me like I'm crazy. "How long have you been traveling?"

"A while," I say vaguely.

"Haven't you heard? It's the Anticipation. Rumor has it that the gods are appearing."

I make my eyes go wide. "You don't say."

The bearded man nods sagely, as if he's been at the center of things. Next to him, the other man speaks up. "Has to be truth. Why else would the Citadel fall to ruin? Goddess Tadekha must have struck it down with vengeance."

Aron snorts deep in his hood. I kick him and shove my spoon into my mouth so I'm not tempted to make a reply.

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