to smile at Torian and walk towards the tavern door.
Utha disliked the capital. The streets were packed together tightly and, although most buildings were made of stone, they were cheaply built and poorly maintained. The bound men who kept the cobbled streets clean did a half-arsed job and mostly shovelled the waste into the side streets to make it less obvious.
The chapter house of the knights of the Red towered over the buildings in this area and the crossed swords could be seen from virtually every street. Torian had wisely chosen to stay in a tavern that catered for men of discipline and respect, rather than in one of the numerous low-rent establishments that littered the city. Despite Tiris being the capital of Tor Funweir, it was still a dangerous place, where men needed to be on their guard.
Utha had been here before when he was a boy and the place had not noticeably changed. The conflicting smells were the same now as they had been then. He could detect meat, fish, tobacco, wine – both fresh and rancid – and the ever-present scent of vomit and faeces.
The streets of Ro Arnon, in contrast, were cleaned by the Brown church and were generally spotless.
The two clerics, the squire and the five watchmen walked along a bustling street adjacent to the farmer’s guild assembly and emerged into a wide square. The paving stones here were octagonal and some effort had been made to keep them clean. The square was dominated by a statue of a Red knight on a horse, waving a banner of the One, and Utha was glad to be out of the claustrophobic side streets.
The guild assemblies framed the square and hundreds of people, both newcomers to the city and natives, jockeyed for position to enter the buildings and find work. The merchant’s guild was the largest, followed by the watchmen’s recruitment barracks. Both buildings had paid guards on their doors and were turning away most of the people who tried to enter.
To the east of the guild square Utha could see the White Spire of the King, an ancient watchtower that signified the vigilance of the house of Tiris. It rose high above the royal palace, dominating the skyline and dwarfing the Red cathedral, the banners of which could be seen clearly over the west of the square.
Squads of watchmen saluted as the clerics passed and common men averted their eyes. Utha saw a number of people point out the Black cleric to their fellows, and several gestures warding against evil. Utha had grown to enjoy this reaction and glared at those who had noticed him, increasing their nervousness.
He heard men whisper that the Ghost was passing , and that the risen men should beware , but nothing out of the ordinary or insulting was directed at him.
The King’s Highway led from the northern corner of the guild square to the outer city walls and the ramshackle hamlets beyond. It was a wide, paved boulevard, patrolled by watchmen and used by men who could afford to pay the toll at the gate. Colourful banners hung from torch emplacements along the road, displaying the heraldry of the noble houses of Tor Funweir. The Black Raven of Ro Weir was placed next to the White Eagle of Tiris and the Grey Roc of Arnon. Utha thought the highway one of the nicer parts of the capital and breathed in deeply as he left the guild square.
Behind, Torian and the others followed him closely. Utha could see the young squire, Randall, deep in conversation with the youngest watchman. They were of a similar age and Utha thought the squire could learn much from a watchman who actually knew how to use a blade. However, he suspected that the watchman was simply telling Randall horror stories about the Black clerics, and he hoped that Randall was clever enough to disregard most of the tall tales he was hearing.
They walked along the well-tended cobblestones of the highway, passing mounted knights of the Red, chain-mail-clad watchmen and all manner of common citizenry. The fashion in Tiris currently favoured light-coloured
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