its way down the slope and around the front of the city, disappeared along the waters of the bay, and climbed back up the hill to complete the circle. Tyralian peasants had built the wall more than five hundred years before, and robert pitied the invading armies that had broken themselves and their weapons upon the impenetrable stone.
His horse, Horizon, broke into a canter beside the wall's edge, and robert allowed the three-year-old stallion to enjoy the run down the sparsely populated slope before pulling his mount to a safer brisk walk at the edge of the marketplace. The powerful bay slowed reluctantly, and Robert maintained a firm grip for the next hundred feet. Horizon was not opposed to depositing a rider on the ground when asked to do something unpleasant.
The marketplace eventually gave way to tenement buildings. grim faces stared out from rickety staircases and stained windows. robert guided Horizon closer to the Tyralian wall, hoping to avoid the downward path of refuse or emptied bedpans. broken carts and wagon pieces littered the alleyways, and dirt smeared everything, even the wet laundry connecting each row of buildings with the next.
"excuse me, mister, do you have a coin to spare?" A ragged boy stretched out a hand toward Horizon. The stallion backed away, and robert leaned forward to press a few coins into the grimy palm.
A sudden flood of skinny bodies with outstretched hands scrambled out from behind corners and doors. Children surrounded him, pressing close, with no regard for their own safety in the face of the stallion's sharp hooves. robert struggled to calm his horse as high voices raised in begging pleas.
"A copper! A copper!"
"For my family, mister."
"For my hungry baby sister."
"please, mister."
"please, please!"
He emptied his pocket and shouted a warning to the children before urging Horizon forward. robert felt thankful when the inns and taverns near the main gate replaced the tenements. He had seen poverty before. No one on the frontier had much in the way of material goods, but here the poverty felt raw, the lives of the poor standing out in stark contrast to those of the nearby aristocracy.
Horizon whistled with excitement as he passed the city stables and approached the horse fair. A roped-off boundary came into view, and robert dismounted, shortening the reins.
He had no intention of providing a horse thief with the lift of a lifetime.
robert descended into the fair's shifting sea of shoving elbows and stomping boots. Cajoling voices of horse traders glided under the demanding questions of potential buyers. prices swung like dying pendulums, the distance between both ends narrowing toward the center. unbridled children, grown feral with their parents' neglect, pounded after one another, ducking dangerously under horses and humans alike, then popping up just long enough to spot their fellow predators and prey. draped over everything hung the humid smell of hay, manure, and horseflesh.
robert strained to identify a horse worth the attention of a genuine horseman. Filtering through dozens of pack and cart horses, he focused on a full team tied to a single hitching post. Here, at least, was a place to start.
passing an elderly man swamped with questions from interested customers, robert approached a skinny girl standing in the background. The girl's dress was smeared with dirt and her shoes were covered in manure; but her head was up, and her eyes were watchful. she had spotted his approach before he opened his mouth, and she eyed him as if she thought he might be planning to pilfer her charges. "excuse me, miss," he inquired. "Could you tell me where I might find a man named drew Fielding?"
"Drew?" she arched an eyebrow. "Well, we haven't seen much of him this mornin', but he shouldn't be difficult to find. He doesn't blend into the crowd, does he?" Her eyes danced.
"He doesn't?" The comment aroused robert's curiosity. "I'm afraid I don't know him. In what way does he stand
His horse, Horizon, broke into a canter beside the wall's edge, and robert allowed the three-year-old stallion to enjoy the run down the sparsely populated slope before pulling his mount to a safer brisk walk at the edge of the marketplace. The powerful bay slowed reluctantly, and Robert maintained a firm grip for the next hundred feet. Horizon was not opposed to depositing a rider on the ground when asked to do something unpleasant.
The marketplace eventually gave way to tenement buildings. grim faces stared out from rickety staircases and stained windows. robert guided Horizon closer to the Tyralian wall, hoping to avoid the downward path of refuse or emptied bedpans. broken carts and wagon pieces littered the alleyways, and dirt smeared everything, even the wet laundry connecting each row of buildings with the next.
"excuse me, mister, do you have a coin to spare?" A ragged boy stretched out a hand toward Horizon. The stallion backed away, and robert leaned forward to press a few coins into the grimy palm.
A sudden flood of skinny bodies with outstretched hands scrambled out from behind corners and doors. Children surrounded him, pressing close, with no regard for their own safety in the face of the stallion's sharp hooves. robert struggled to calm his horse as high voices raised in begging pleas.
"A copper! A copper!"
"For my family, mister."
"For my hungry baby sister."
"please, mister."
"please, please!"
He emptied his pocket and shouted a warning to the children before urging Horizon forward. robert felt thankful when the inns and taverns near the main gate replaced the tenements. He had seen poverty before. No one on the frontier had much in the way of material goods, but here the poverty felt raw, the lives of the poor standing out in stark contrast to those of the nearby aristocracy.
Horizon whistled with excitement as he passed the city stables and approached the horse fair. A roped-off boundary came into view, and robert dismounted, shortening the reins.
He had no intention of providing a horse thief with the lift of a lifetime.
robert descended into the fair's shifting sea of shoving elbows and stomping boots. Cajoling voices of horse traders glided under the demanding questions of potential buyers. prices swung like dying pendulums, the distance between both ends narrowing toward the center. unbridled children, grown feral with their parents' neglect, pounded after one another, ducking dangerously under horses and humans alike, then popping up just long enough to spot their fellow predators and prey. draped over everything hung the humid smell of hay, manure, and horseflesh.
robert strained to identify a horse worth the attention of a genuine horseman. Filtering through dozens of pack and cart horses, he focused on a full team tied to a single hitching post. Here, at least, was a place to start.
passing an elderly man swamped with questions from interested customers, robert approached a skinny girl standing in the background. The girl's dress was smeared with dirt and her shoes were covered in manure; but her head was up, and her eyes were watchful. she had spotted his approach before he opened his mouth, and she eyed him as if she thought he might be planning to pilfer her charges. "excuse me, miss," he inquired. "Could you tell me where I might find a man named drew Fielding?"
"Drew?" she arched an eyebrow. "Well, we haven't seen much of him this mornin', but he shouldn't be difficult to find. He doesn't blend into the crowd, does he?" Her eyes danced.
"He doesn't?" The comment aroused robert's curiosity. "I'm afraid I don't know him. In what way does he stand
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