Along the great river Mihtea, as it flowed towards the sea, lay Fontaine. It was the capital city of Ealond and the third largest in the Seven Realms. While Middanhal was ho to the high king, the Order and the Temple, and Herbergja was the economic heart of Adalarc, Fontaine was the city of craftsn and artisans. Where its rivals had guilds numbering in scores, Fontaine counted its guilds in the hundreds. Materials ca from distant lands, such as wool or cotton, iron or copper, dye, leather, timber, and anything else conceivable to be put to looms, under hamr, into vats, or worked upon with a variety of tools unique to each trade. Much of it was sold to the citizens, who were accustod to a wide selection of every item available to their households; the rest, notably dyed cloth and expensive wine, was sold in other lands with a reputation for excellent quality.
There was one guild in Fontaine that had no counterpart in any other city, and it was another reason for the capitals fa; it was the guild of engineers. It had been founded nearly eight centuries ago by Renaud, the famous architect who built the double walls of Middanhal and its dod Temple. In so respects, it functioned like any other guild; it was an association of masters within this particular craft, regulating who could work in this field, guaranteeing quality, settling disputes, and providing support for mbers of the fraternity. Since most of their work was overseeing the construction of buildings, quality was imperative; flaws in the work ant collapse and possibly death for any unfortunate soul caught by debris.
The masters took on apprentices for their workshop, who helped draw up plans and acted as right hands while learning the trade. Unlike most other crafts, extensive study of mathematics was needed along with the usual knowledge of materials, tools, and so forth. So apprentices were fortunate and could take their masters place in the guild when the ti ca; others sought employ elsewhere. While the other realms had builders of their own, a man trained by the guilds of engineers in Fontaine was sure to find work and be well paid anywhere. In this manner, many trained engineers carried on the tradition of Renaud in building castles and fortifications; finally, so left the city with the opposite intentions, seeking work as siege engineers. Wherever defensive walls stood, siege machinery was needed to break through them.
In one workshop, a young man sat hunched over his workbench with parchnt and charcoal. Part of his work showed various runes in complicated formulas, while the rest was a curious design unlike anything else. It was a stone thrower of sorts, but instead of utilising torsion, it worked through a counterweight. His face was contorted in concentration as he scribbled numbers continuously, biting his lower lip.
Armand? a voice called out. Its owner ca descending down the stairs into the workroom.
A start went through the young man, followed by a chagrined expression as he stared at the runes he had written. Yes, master, he replied absent-mindedly.
Look at when I speak to you, the old engineer reprimanded him.
Forgive , master, Armand hurried to respond, turning to look at the other man.
Did you deliver the plans to Master Hamid?
Confusion took hold of Armand for a mont. Not yet, he explained. I was going to on the way ho.
You an you forgot, his master reproached him. Very well. See that you do.
I promise, master.
The older man scratched his bearded cheek. You better. I am considering letting you oversee the construction of Master Hamids warehouse, but I need to know I can rely on you.
Armands face glowed. You can, Master Lambert, I promise!
You need strict attention to detail, the engineer spoke sternly. Every number must be checked twice. All the material must be inspected thoroughly. You must supervise everything, every plank of timber cut.
Of course, master, Armand nodded eagerly.
Lambert sent him a discerning look. Very well. Well talk later of Master Hamids warehouse.
Yes, master!
You may leave for the day, Lambert told him.
Armand leapt to his feet, gathering his parchnts. Thank you, master, he said, making sure to turn and look at the old man as he spoke. He almost took a step towards the door, stopped his movent, and gathered up the plans for a warehouse lying on a shelf above his desk. With a smile and a nod towards Lambert, he left the workshop and stepped onto the bustling streets of Fontaine.
The capital of Ealond shared one trait with its counterpart in Adalrik; the Mihtea flowed through both cities, providing them with fresh water. The similarities ended there. In Fontaine, it was the southern part that held the most notable features, including the royal castle and the great temple dedicated to Idisea. Instead of being surrounded by mountains and having few gates and bridges to emphasise defensive capabilities, Fontaine lay on a flat plain and had plenty of entryways. rchants and their storehouses congregated around the river, using its swiftness to transport their goods, and the many workshops depending on these materials spread out like fans from the surrounding warehouses and marketplaces.
Walking hastily, occasionally bumping into other people and nearly dropping his parchnts, Armand made his way from the craftsns quarters to the statelier districts belonging to the affluent rchants of Fontaine. Tall spires rose ahead of him, signalling wealth and power. At length, he stopped outside one particular house that rose several stories high, knocking on the door. His eyes admired the stonework and construction while he waited until the door was opened by a young servant girl.
Her appearance suggested she ca from Alczar and beyond, sa as her master; she stared mutely at Armand, who smiled to her. Hullo, he greeted her. I have these plans for Master Hamid to inspect and approve. He extended the bundle towards her.
Silently, she hurried back into the house, leaving the young apprentice to stare perplexed at the empty doorway. Shortly after, a stately woman appeared. You are from Master Lamberts workshop, yes? she asked; her arcspeech ca rolling off her tongue.
Yes, Armand smiled. The drawings for Master Hamids expanded warehouse are complete along with calculations of material, workforce, and everything else. Once more, he reached out with the parchnts, letting the woman grab them.
Thank you, she replied curtly. My husband will contact your master once he has seen them.
Very good, mistress, the apprentice spoke with a courteous bow. She closed the door without further words. He stood gazing at the timberwork of the doorfra briefly before he gathered his wits and left.
Wealth in Fontaine was generally determined by how close soone lived to the river. The semicircles of the city defences extended in arches north and south, and the poorest lived furthest from the waters, closest to the walls. With the slender towers of the Raven Court and the broad turrets of the royal castle behind him, Armand walked north and away from the Mihtea.
The streets grew narrow and more crowded the further he ca; in most places, the houses lay directly against each other and rose several floors into the air. Armands destination was one of these with nothing setting it apart. Entering, he greeted those inside briefly and disappeared up a flight of stairs to reach another door.
Passing through, he walked into a small room that held a bed, a table, a few chairs, a drawer, and a small loom. By the latter sat a woman, no more than twenty years old. Armand, she smiled.
He walked over to kiss her cheek. Hullo, my dear, he greeted her, dumping his parchnts on the table.
Anything new to tell? Her hands expertly moved the loom, pausing only for a mont as she looked at him.
Master Lambert might let oversee the construction of the new warehouse were going to build, he related excitedly.
Thats wonderful! She sent him a glowing smile before returning her eyes to her work.
He made no promises, but if I do good work the next days, Im sure he will hold to it.
You might be made a master sooner than we thought, she spoke happily.
That might be getting ahead of ourselves, Armand cautioned her, sitting down on the bed after taking his shoes off.
That slls, the woman complained, wrinkling her nose.
Nicolette with her delicate nose, he grinned.
Nothing delicate about your feet, she retorted. Wash them.
He sat up and glanced down into a barrel between the bed and the table. Were nearly out of water.
Ill fetch so tomorrow when the water bearer makes his rounds, Nicolette promised.
Do you need coin?
There are so petties on the drawer, she explained, nodding towards the furniture in question. Her glance fell on the parchnts he had brought ho. Are you still working on that?
I am sure the principle is sound, Armand claid. Using a counterweight should allow for imnsely more force than simple torsion.
Youve explained that to already, she told him patiently.
I just cant quite get the final nail in, he complained.
Wash, she reminded him.
He grabbed a small bucket and poured water from the barrel into a small bowl, using it to wash his feet. The models Ive built all crack under the weight even though Ive calculated it precisely.
Nicolette ceased her work and leaned over to pick up the drawing with its runes. It does look fearso. Seeing these numbers remind of Brother Erwan back ho, sitting in his lore house teaching letters and tell-craft.
Feels like an age ago, Armand added.
Do you think we could be wed back ho? Our parents would be happy to celebrate us, Im sure.
He scratched the back of his head. I wont be able to leave the city if Im to oversee the warehouse construction, he considered. Wed have to wait until after that business is done.
She nodded slightly. Thats fine. I dont mind waiting. Itll be rrier to have the wedding surrounded by family.
Quite right, he agreed, drying himself after washing.
Nicolettes attention returned to his drawings of the imagined stone thrower. I envy that you get to learn so much from Master Lambert. I always liked going to the lore house.
When Im a journeyman, therell be lots you can assist with, he promised, leaning back into the bed. Master Lamberts wife helps him with the calculations too, Ive noticed.
She let go of the loom to pick up his sheet of numbers. Id really enjoy that, I think. Theres an elegance in arithtic, I find. Its so nice when everything adds up and fits together neatly.
Armand sat up again. Youll get all the calculations you could ever wish for, he declared. In fact, would you mind looking at my work? He gestured at the parchnt. I may have made an error sohow, and you have a better head for numbers than .
Id be happy to, dearest, Nicolette promised.
Let it rest for now, though. This humble apprentice has missed his betrothed all day long. He launched himself like a projectile from a ballista to envelop his arms around her, making the chair topple and both of them fall to the ground; the sound of her surprised shriek beca mixed with his laughter and yelling from downstairs, voicing the other residents opinions of noisy neighbours.
~~~~
South of the river lay the largest temple in the Realms hallowed to Idisea. It was commonly known as the Raven Court, being inhabited by sisters of that order. Tall, elegant towers rose in every corner of the complex towards the sky. It was built around a courtyard, where a fountain sprung and flowed through until it joined with the waters of the Mihtea. The mysteries surrounding this wellspring were nurous, giving various explanations for why this particular fountain was sacred; if the norns knew the truth, they did not share it. Regardless, there was a steady stream of visitors each day to drink from its waters to purify themselves, paying for the privilege. It was also a prerequisite for being received into audience by the Veiled, the highest priestess in the Order of the Raven.
All norns were believed to have powers of prophecy as servants of Idisea; this allowed them to speak the birth words when a child was born, giving a hint of what future was in store for the newborn. The Veiled was especially blessed by the goddess and would receive ons and portents. After drinking from the fountain, and for an additional fee, supplicants would be granted entrance to the highest of the spires in the Raven Court, where the Veiled would wait.
It was not certain if the high priestess actually wore a veil; she sat behind a curtain and could only be seen as a shadow against its fabric. The visitor would enter and sit on a chair without back, staring at the curtain while flanked by two temple guards ard with staffs; Idisea did not allow any in her service to wield sharp weapons ant for killing. Once seated, the Veiled would address the believer.
You have co before the Veil, but only she blessed by Idisea may gaze beyond. Tell , traveller, what do you seek? The voice was deep and hoarse.
Im not actually here to ask you anything, Godfrey admitted with a wry smile. I carry a ssage for you.
Then why are you disturbing ? The priestess voice turned sharp. I do not commune with the goddess on a whim!
I do not spend thirty silvers on a whim either, the traveller replied dryly, looking at the guards; neither of them were amused. I am to ensure that this ssage is delivered to you personally. Your acolytes and wardens did not take kindly to that request, so I found another solution.
What letter could you possibly bear of such importance? There was a sneer in her voice. Very well, leave it with the guards and I shall read it.
I am to speak it, Godfrey explained. The ssage is from the Highfather. He warns you that you have strayed from the path. Return to it swiftly, or punishnt will be severe.
How dare you! The shape behind the curtain leapt up to stand, causing her chair to fall backwards. You threaten in my own sanctum! I should have the guards beat you bloody!
I do not think that is what the Highfather had in mind, Godfrey remarked.
Another reason to have you flogged, the Veiled spoke with anger. Pretending to speak for the Highfather is blasphemy!
The two guards in the room took hold of their staves with both hands and moved threateningly towards Godfrey. He rose to his feet and did not dignify either guard with a glance, staring at the curtain instead. The darkest dreams belong to those who see only darkness in others, he spoke coldly. Your eyes are as blind to the truth as your ears are deaf to my warning. He turned around; the guards looked at the curtain waiting for orders, and before any were given, Godfrey was already gone, leaving a seething priestess behind.
~~~~
A cart rolled shakily on cobbled stones to enter one of the courtyards of the temple; it bore a cage, marking it as the property of a justiciar, which was a common sight in this place. Less typical was the fact that the barred prison was empty and the prisoners sat with their shackles on the drivers seat. Only a big hound was in the back, sticking its head forward to peer between the travellers.
Thats madness, Ghislain stated vehently. How can two gods be one?
The way I see it, the Hidden is simply a na assud, Michel explained. Before she beca the Veiled, the high priestess must have had a na like any other, right?
But there are seven gods, the justiciar argued. Not six with one in disguise.
If you think this is mad talk, ask him why we swear by the Seven and Eighth, Clarisse inserted.
I would, but weve arrived. There was a tone of regret in Ghislains voice as he halted the cart. His dog gave a cheerful bark at seeing familiar surroundings, jumping down to greet the approaching stable hands. Ghislain stepped down onto the ground as well, looking back at his prisoners. Youll have to co with , he inford them almost apologetically.
Of course, Master Ghislain, Michel assented. Clarisse grumbled but did not resist.
The justiciar was leading them across the yard when a traveller ca from the opposite direction. He wore cloak and hat for long journeys and had a stout walking staff in one hand; a sword was strapped to his belt, but nothing marked him as out of the ordinary. Yet by chance, as they approached each other, he glanced in Michels direction, and the giant man returned the look; when their eyes locked, Michel gave an anguished cry and fell to the ground.
The eagle flies, the raven cries, the dragon dies! The words poured like a river from his mouth, and he clenched his arms around his knees. Hide in shadows, walk in light. Spare us, spare us!
Silence! Godfrey commanded. Only Michel seed to hear, as the attention of everyone else was upon him, but he imdiately ceased the flood of words.
Brother, Clarisse exclaid worried; she sat down to cradle his head in her lap and stroke his forehead. Its fine, youre fine, you hear , everythings fine.
Whats wrong with him? Is he touched? Ghislain asked concerned. Sisters of the order were approaching from every direction. In the background, Godfrey slipped away.
It happened to him as a child at tis, Clarisse explained, comforting her brother as best she could. I thought it was gone.
What can we do? enquired the justiciar.
Just give him so ti.
Master Justice, what is the aning of this disturbance? A norn with a stern expression stared at Ghislain. She had a birthmark with the colour and shape of a strawberry on her brow.
These are my prisoners, brought for trial, Ghislain explained. He had a fit of so sort, but itll be fine, Sister.
If these are deviants or blasphers, have them thrown in the dungeons where they belong!
All in good ti, Sister, Ghislain spoke through gritted teeth. Until they are in their cells, I am in charge of them.
Make it fast, the priestess demanded with an angry look.
A sneer ran across Ghislains face before he turned his back on the norn, bending low to examine Michel. How is he?
He seems calm again, Clarisse replied.
Taking hold of the big man under his shoulder, Ghislain helped him to stand. Lets get you inside, he declared. Ill Ill try and choose a nice cell, he promised with an awkward tone of voice. Clarisse followed behind as they entered the temple complex.
~~~~
In the southernmost part of Fontaine lay the Order keep by one of the marketplaces in the city. The fortress was large enough to accommodate a garrison of several thousand soldiers, though it currently held only a few hundred. Unlike Middanhal, it did not also serve as the city watch, so it did not necessarily require the sa numbers; its only purpose was to be the extended arm of the Order in Fontaine, acting as the physical presence of the high king. It currently had a handful of knights; the rest were scattered across the nurous cities of Ealond or had been sent to Hthiod for the campaign.
Despite their low numbers, the Order forces maintained strict discipline, and the knights trained daily. Every day, the marshal of the realm was found among his peers and soldiers. He was the tallest of any man in the garrison with a powerful physique, making for an imposing sight that commanded respect; in contrast, his black eyes and white teeth easily lit up in smiles and laughter, making him well liked among his n.
The knight he sparred against this particular day was almost as tall and had the sa eyes as the marshal. In contrast, he was far more slender of fra, and while the marshals skin was black, the other knight was lighter in colour; yet, when he sent a challenging smile after striking a hit in their training match, another similarity between them appeared.
Do not grow bold, the marshal warned his opponent; each sized the other man up, preparing for another exchange.
None may mock Sir Martel and live to tell the tale, the knight laughed; his rrymaking was rely a ruse as he imdiately followed up by striking out.
The marshal was not so easily duped and easily took the blow with his shield, lashing out with his own blade against the knights shin, landing a hit. I would not kill a man so clearly beneath , Martel retorted, just cut him down to size!
His opponent limped backwards; after a monts respite, he struck again. Again, the marshal proved superior, trapping the knights sword with his own shield, holding it in place long enough to slam his own blade against the knights helt. The latter staggered backwards, shaking his head.
Brother, are you well? Martel asked slightly concerned.
The response ca after a short pause. Fine, fine. You caught by surprise. The knight took a few deep breaths.
That will suffice for today, I think, the marshal declared while the onlookers cheered at the display of his prowess.
If you feel you have had enough, his opponent jested, removing his helt and wavering a bit where he stood.
It will do for now, Martel smiled, supporting his brother as they walked over to a water barrel and refreshed themselves.
I heard a strange rumour last night.
You are always hearing strange rumours, Gerard, the marshal told him with another smile before splashing more water onto his face.
Yes, yes, but this one could be important, his brother insisted.
Go on.
You know that the king has summoned his vassals to renew their fealty to him?
I rember, Martel said patiently. He began to unstrap the bracers from his arms.
I have been told, Gerard continued with a lowered voice, that so of them are bringing large numbers of troops along.
The marshal frowned. For what reason?
That is why it seems strange. I cannot imagine any benevolent cause, leaving only malevolent possibilities.
The king is young and perhaps not popular, Martel contemplated, but it is far step to outright rebellion. The nobles dislike each other as much as they dislike the king. None of them would have the support to make any attempt.
Probably not, Gerard conceded, yet the timing would fit. Adalrik is in civil war, the Order is waging a campaign in Hthiod.
There has been peace in Ealond for decades, the marshal brought up. I thought the strife of past years was behind us.
There was peace because King Rainiers father knew how to rein the nobles in, the knight pointed out. His son may not have the sa strength.
What are we to do? With a few hundred n, we cannot secure the city. We should warn the king, Martel considered, scratching his trimd beard.
There is also the possibility that the king has commanded these armies to gather, Gerard suggested hesitantly. If so, warning him will inform him that we are aware of his plans.
What plans? asked Martel confused.
What does every king of Ealond want? To control Herbergja and Tricaster. Holding those cities along with Portesur ans a stranglehold on nearly all the trade in the Realms, the knight explained.
Breaking the high kings peace, the marshal mumbled, attacking another realm, I cannot imagine King Rainier would dare to do so.
It is also hard to imagine the nobles seeking to overthrow the king, yet one or the other must be true.
Martel was silent for a while. What shall we do? With a few hundred n, we can neither defend the city against the nobles nor stop the king, regardless of what is true.
A few hundred n in the right place can make a great difference, Gerard claid. Let investigate further. Have the n prepare to move out at monts notice to seize either the palace or the gate. Perhaps both.
Martel nodded. I will. He gave a wry smile. They should have made you marshal.
Gerard slapped him on the shoulder. You look the part better, little brother. Visit Mother soon. She asks for you.
I will, the marshal promised, and they went their separate ways.
~~~~
Along with the Raven Court and the Order keep, Fontaines most noticeable building was the royal castle. It did not have the imnse fortifications of the Citadel or the splendour of its counterpart in Plenmont, but lay sowhere in between; it was a sign of how the kings of Ealond desired to present their wealth to their subjects while also being able to defend themselves against those sa people.
The king sat in the royal chambers, reading. He was pale and lanky with eyes and hair of dark hue; his beard was trimd in the latest fashion, leaving a ring of hair around his mouth but his cheeks smooth. A servant announced his entrance with a knock. Yes? the king enquired.
The seneschal seeks audience, Your Majesty.
Show him in, the king granted. He closed his book and looked up as the steward of his realm entered.
Your Majesty. The seneschal gave a deep bow.
What news?
Duke Belvoir approaches, Your Majesty. He should be able to enter the city in a few days.
My other vassals?
They are all in or near the city, Your Majesty.
Rainier nodded. Summon them in two days ti to affirm their fealty to .
Yes, Your Majesty. The seneschal gave another bow and left his master.
The king stood up to walk over to a window. Looking out, his gaze was attracted by the slender spires of the temple and the sturdy turrets of the keep. In between lay great swathes of houses and workshops. On the river, boats were constantly being docked or departing. His eyes followed a ship with tall masts, lazily following the slow current towards Herbergja. Returning to his seat, Rainier took out his book again and resud reading.
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