Sunset of Lantonne (7 page)

“You lie, though I do not hold it against you.” His eyes drifted over her, before darting to another passenger who started to interject something. The other man closed his mouth quickly. “Humor me for a moment, girl. There is little else to amuse myself with on this trip than guessing at the purposes of others or gambling with the gypsies, which will make me a poor man all too quickly. This helps pass the time.”

“Then continue talking to yourself,” Ilarra snapped, rolling up the pile of parchments and tying them off with a thin leather cord. She looked around for Raeln but could not see him on either side of the wagon, where he normally could be found loping along. “My reason for traveling is no concern of yours.”

“I did not say I was concerned.”

The man leaned out a window on his side of the wagon, blocking the view of an older man who had been staring blankly at the horizon. Smirking, the robed man looked back at Ilarra.

“You travel wearing dirty clothing, like the rest of us,” he noted, gesturing toward her long dress, which she had bought specifically for the journey. “However, yours is sewn with cloth made from the vegetation we passed a week or so ago…that indicates you lived in that area, rather than merely passing through. The seams are done well for this region, indicating a skilled seamstress did the work. I would hazard that you come from wealth and wish to hide that.”

An old woman opened her eyes and glanced over at Ilarra as though evaluating her outfit to confirm that man’s guesses. It was all Ilarra could do to ignore the woman as she self-consciously smoothed the simple dress, wishing she had found something more plain for the journey. Her father had warned her to dress as much like the plains farmers as possible to help avoid thieves, but she had clearly not been careful enough.

“The parchment you scribble on is a ram skin, rather than the cheaper and more common sheep’s skin used in these parts,” he continued, smiling a bit more as Ilarra covered the parchment with her hand. “Given the ink stains around your nails you have attempted to hide, I would hazard that you are going to Lantonne to study, rather than to find work.”

“Who are you?” Ilarra demanded, wondering if she needed to call out for Raeln. This man was beginning to really make her nervous, and with the other passengers starting to pay attention, she might need the help getting away from him. Still, she had no desire to see Raeln beat the man to a bloody pulp just yet.

“The rest of us brought food and water, as well as some clothing and a few possessions,” the robed man added, ignoring her. “You brought books and very little in the way of supplies. That indicates either poverty, which I’ve already ruled out, or the anticipation of a place to stay. I stand by my guess.”

Ilarra did not know his place of origin, but it was certainly an uncivilized one, if he were so willing to pry into the matters of others. The tattoos, in particular, made her wonder where he might have come from. They looked vaguely like the symbols used to indicate patterns in magical flow that students were taught from, though they had no meaning she could discern.

“Calm yourself, child,” the man said smoothly, seemingly trying to wave aside her unspoken concerns. “I think we’re headed to the same place. You will come to no harm, so you do not need to call for your manservant.”

The man sat there watching her for some time as Ilarra debated how to respond to him, if at all. His eyes were cold and seemed to study everything the same way she had once seen her father study a butterfly pinned to a table. Even the other travelers seemed to notice this and shifted their soft conversations so they could avoid being under that scrutiny.

“Though it’s none of your business, human,” she began trying to puff herself up to counteract the nervousness the man had put into her, “I’m apprenticed to the towers of high magic in the city. I certainly doubt we’re heading to the same place, given their dislike of foreigners.”

The robed human laughed dryly and nodded. When his mirth was met by Ilarra’s attempt at a regal stare, he stifled his chuckles and cleared his throat.

“I am sorry to be so rude,” he explained. “Where I come from, most of our people are educated in some form of magic. I laugh at your lands’ desire to sequester all the knowledge in dramatically-named places and not at you or your situation. I apologize. I hope your towers are most educational and I will trouble you no further today.”

The man was silent after that, staring off at the horizon like the other people in the wagon. Still, Ilarra was nervous and hoped it was not showing. Among her fellow residents of Hyeth education and partnering with wildlings like Raeln had been their means of survival against the clans of aggressive barbarian tribes. Having her status as an apprentice of Lantonne’s wizards mocked left a bad taste in her mouth.

Even as she contemplated getting off the wagon entirely to hike the rest of the way regardless of the distance, Ilarra heard the call from somewhere farther up the wagon train that a city was in sight. Instantly, all concerns about the man were forgotten as excitement over their arrival overtook her.

She leaned as far out the side of the wagon as she could, just barely making out a faint structure in the distance. The thin groupings of trees in this part of the plains barely allowed the city to be visible at their distance. By Ilarra’s guess, they were still a day out given how tall the tower in the middle of Lantonne was rumored to be.

Rudeness and hurt feelings forgotten in that moment, Ilarra watched the speck in the distance slowly grow as evening set. The massive city gradually took over the horizon, making her ignore everything else in wonder at its sheer size.

When she woke the next morning—somewhat less sick than she had been the whole trip—she could see the thin line of the city’s walls and its single great tower keep. That tower bore two side spires that could only be accessed from the main structure. These were wherein she had heard the wizards taught apprentices. It was where she was to live, until she either mastered what could be taught, or she was thrown out as a failure.

Years of her father’s—albeit basic—teachings of magic had finally paid off. She was where she wanted to be and people like the robed human would soon learn to respect her. Maybe not within their lives but certainly by the end of hers, people would know of her. She could just feel it.

During the long morning, the wagons trundled past a small and desolate village set far from the main city of Lantonne, but Ilarra only had eyes for the large city itself. She heard the other passengers talking about it, but she could not be bothered with anything but Lantonne itself.

By noon, the wagon began to move through the outlying city of Lantonne. For nearly a mile, they traveled down the streets of the peasant city where the poor and those of lower status resided, outside the protection of the smaller walled section of the city.

Between distance and the thousands of people moving about, the wagons were slowed considerably. It took until well into the afternoon before they pulled through the gates of the central city, Ilarra leaning out over the edge of the wagon the whole time, gaping in amazement at the vastness of it all. Compared to Hyeth, even a single street in the outer city was huge.

As the wagon pulled to a stop in the large courtyard at the foot of the central tower, Ilarra hopped down and looked up into the sky, grinning at the flat top so high above her. She was so wrapped up in it that she very nearly missed the others hurrying to gather their things and head away from the tower, even as she wondered at exactly where in that huge structure she would soon live.

Looking over her shoulder, Ilarra found that the wagons were already unloaded, largely by dumping any contents that had not been claimed onto the ground. While others hurried about, trying to locate all their belongings in the large piles before they vanished, Raeln stood off to one side with Ilarra’s stacks of books and few bags of personal items beside him. None of the other travelers went anywhere near him and with good reason.

Raeln’s pale blue eyes watched everyone who came near him, while his ears constantly twitched and turned, following those he could not watch. The one time Ilarra saw a man approach him, Raeln gave them man a stern look and the man hurried away without a word. Even dressed in the lightweight elven-style clothing he had donned after brushing the blood from his fur as they departed Hyeth, Raeln looked like a vicious warrior when he glowered.

Despite keeping an eye on anyone passing near, Raeln watched Ilarra, his tail wagging in mild annoyance or impatience. Ilarra recognized the silent prodding from the wildling, having lived with his “protection” and care for most of her life. He did not need to say anything for her to know she was being slow to act.

Hurrying over, Ilarra picked up a heavy stack of books as Raeln picked up the remainder, as well as all her bags. From what she could tell, he was carrying more than she weighed…probably by a lot. Still, it was what he did, and there was little more she could do to help him without making multiple trips.

Turning, Ilarra made for the entrance of the tower where guards stood, watching the people leaving the wagons. Behind her, she could hear Raeln’s bare feet thumping along, audible only with the addition of all the weight he was carrying. When she finally trudged up to the waiting guards, she heard Raeln grunt and set back down her belongings.

“Could you open the door?” she asked, giving the two men a smile as she nodded at the massive wooden door to the tower. Shifting the books in her arms uncomfortably, she felt her smile fading as the men looked at each other and back at her without moving.

Ilarra began fidgeting as the men watched her, trying to think back to whether she had been told to bring anything to prove membership in the school of magic. The letter sent to her father had contained no tokens or any mention of what to do when she arrived. This was simply unexpected.

“Please?” she tried, glancing back at Raeln, who was glaring at the men. “I would like to get to my room in the tower before it gets too late…”

“Tower’s closed until further notice,” the bearded man on the left told her, moving his halberd across the door, as if the words did not convey the meaning well enough to satisfy him. “War council’s in session. No one goes in or out without a school magister at their side or the king’s request for them to attend.”

“War?” Ilarra asked nervously. “The war with Altis has been going on for longer than I’ve been alive. Why all the secrecy now?”

The other man rolled his eyes and took a step toward Ilarra, forcing her to back up. Behind her, she heard Raeln growl softly.

“Doesn’t matter why, girl, the place is closed to you for now,” the man told her, though he kept his attention on Raeln. “You need to leave.”

Ilarra turned partway and stared off toward the city gates and the vast poorer city outside. From what she could see now that she was looking for it, a great many people were being herded toward the gates, including nearly everyone from the wagon she had come in on. The only person left that was not being hustled to the outer walls was the robed man that had bothered Ilarra the day before, standing patiently near where the wagons had been, his hands clasped behind his back as he politely waited for Ilarra to finish speaking with the guards.

“Where am I supposed to go, if I can’t get in?” she finally asked the guard. “I came all this way to learn…”

“Don’t care,” snapped the man, waving her away. “You need to leave the inner city immediately. Go find an inn or go back to wherever you came from. Doesn’t change the rules either way. These gates are staying closed for the next few days.”

Sighing, Ilarra turned to walk away, Raeln hurriedly grabbing the rest of their things before moving to walk at her side.

As they lumbered away carrying everything Ilarra had in the world, she slowed briefly as she heard the guards behind her say, “Welcome to Lantonne, ambassador. Go right in.”

Turning toward the keep, Ilarra saw the robed man walk through the open doors just before they were closed. With the doors sealed once again, Ilarra felt her last hope of seeing the bright future she was promised suddenly die.

“Come on, Raeln,” Ilarra said sadly, trudging toward the gates. “We need to find somewhere before nightfall. We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

Ilarra knew there was no point in trying to discuss the situation with Raeln or wait for his answer. He would never answer, that much she knew. The last time he had spoken was to give his vow not to speak.