65: A Bumpkin After All (Patreon)

As much as Vir wanted to head straight to the Mercenaries’ Brotherhood building, traffic had other plans. He thought Saran was crowded. Saran wasn’t crowded—it was quaint.

Daha was downright packed, making it nearly impossible to move anywhere atop Bumpy.

“Whoa there, boy,” Vir said as Bumpy shivered. “I know it’s scary, but I need you to be brave for me, alright?”

The situation deteriorated the farther he penetrated into the city. What’s worse—the buildings grew larger as he left the slums behind, looming taller. While still nothing to write home about in terms of their construction quality—built mostly of wood and clay—some even reached up to five stories in height. It made Vir feel boxed in, corralled by the thronging masses with nowhere to escape to.

And he wasn’t the only one struggling; nearly everyone on mounts crawled forward amid the throng of people, cursing at the government for failing to improve the roads.

Giving up, Vir dismounted Bumpy and lead the animal through the swarm on foot. A task easier said than done, with the dozens of merchants hailing him from under their street-side awnings, the opportunistic urchins that hovered nearby, and with people shoving him every which way.

Vir learned a lot from the angry voices around him. The thoroughfare had been overloaded for decades, but King Rayid hadn’t even lifted a finger to fix it.

There was no way Bumpy could manage. Vir needed to stable the Ash’va at the earliest opportunity, and while he’d spotted a couple of inns along the main road, they were all full.

The alleys were less crowded, but Vir didn’t want to deviate from the main road—of which there was exactly one. No doubt the alleys would allow him to slip by, but which areas of the city were safe? Which side streets led where? Saran had given him similar anxiety, but that city was small enough that he always knew where he was. Alongside Maiya, the two of them hadn’t gotten lost even once.

Now, he was alone, and Daha was many times the size of Saran. Each street looked the same as the next, crisscrossing every which way like a prana rat’s nest. He realized he’d need a map.

Adding the item to his shopping list, Vir finally arrived at Market Square a full hour after leaving Param’s caravan.

The merchant had mentioned he’d find the Brotherhood’s building, and sure enough, in a corner was a five story stone building with carvings of monsters, busts, and weapons of all kinds. But the rest of the cobblestone square was no less impressive, a hive of activity in its own right. The area served as a junction for several roads, with people continuously entering and exiting.

It was a far cry from the slums near the city gate. Many buildings boasted carved arches, and gold-painted domes capped the rooftops—the kind he’d only ever seen at Apramor’s temple. There was even a fountain at plaza’s center—though it was as dry as a desert—around which several dozen people sat and chatted.

While there were more people here, the space was also far larger, so Vir felt like he could finally breathe again.

He patted Bumpy’s snout for the hundredth time. “Good boy. You must’ve been terrified of all those people, huh?”

The Ash’va grunted reluctantly, nuzzling him. “You were great, Bumpy. Just a little longer, and we’ll have you in a nice comfy stable,” Vir said, eyeing a nearby inn. He hoped to Janak they had vacancies.

Tying Bumpy up outside, he entered the three story structure through its double doors, leading to a wide open space that was even louder than the square he’d just left. Similar to the inn at Saran, this place doubled as a tavern, and was packed to the brim.

Feeling bad about his chances, Vir spotted the receptionist’s booth in a corner, finding a woman arguing in hushed tones with a small man.

Vir considered waiting, but a nervous glance out the windows at Bumpy changed his mind. He wouldn’t put it past people here to try and steal his friend. Neel was outside guarding the Ash’va, but even so, he hoped to settle this matter as soon as possible.

“Hello?” He shouted above the din. “Hello? Can I get some help?”

The woman frowned, looking angry that she'd been interrupted.

“Yes?” She said curtly.

“Do you—”

“Brotherhood? Mejai Sorcar?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Not Brotherhood then. No discounts. Full fare.”

So being a mejai or being associated with the brotherhood gets you a discount? That’s handy.

“Uh, right. So, do you have any openings? How much for a night?” Vir asked.

“Only one room left. Fifty coppers a night. Meals are ten coppers each. Stabling fee is fifteen coppers,” she said. “Pay upfront.”

Vir blanched at those prices. He’d finally found an inn that wasn’t full, and the fee was exorbitant. He’d been expecting higher prices than Saran, but this was ridiculous! Even if he forewent meals, he’d need sixty-five coppers. Ignoring Rudvik’s coin, which he never intended to spend, he had a single silver. Not even enough for two nights.

“Is it always this busy?” Vir complained, silently cursing Riyan for sending him here without money.

Maybe I should’ve gone with the ‘risto disguise, Vir idly thought, but realized that wouldn’t fly here in the capital. Sawai aristocrats were a common sight. No doubt they’d have ways to call his bluff.

He’d thought of spending the night in an alley somewhere, but while he might be safe, Bumpy surely wouldn’t be. Bumpy couldn’t jump onto rooftops, after all. Vir knew the Ash’va would be stolen by the time he woke up.

And leaving the city to camp out on the desert wasn’t an option either, seeing as how he had no way of getting back into the capital without paperwork. Yet another reason to join up with the Brotherhood. Not only would he have easier access to information and potential leads on the princess, but he could earn some coin, and he’d gain easy access to the city.

For the first time, the woman looked at him with an expression other than boredom. “You’re quite the hermit, aren’t you?”

“Why do you say that?”

The woman sighed exaggeratedly. “I don’t get paid for small talk. You staying the night, or what?” she asked with her hand held out.

“W-wait, a moment,” Vir said. “Let’s work something out here. How about fifty, and you include the stabling fee? My mount is as docile as they come. You won’t even notice him—”

“Nonnegotiable. If you can’t pay, leave,” she said, turning her back to him.

Vir gritted his teeth. “W-wait! I can put down a deposit, can’t I? I’ll return with the funds in an hour.”

The woman turned around, looking at him like she was mulling over how to tell him to go away.

“I’m afraid—”

The scrawny man she'd been arguing with came rushing up to the counter. “Irma, this can't wait. There's blood all over that room. We need to get it cleaned!”

Vir turned to the receptionist. “Uh, Irma? What's he talking about?“

Irma waved dismissively. “There's been a fight in one of the rooms. Some blood was shed. Nothing you need to worry about.“

“What about their room? Can I have that?”

The lady paused, then glanced at the man, then back at Vir, her mouth agape. “F-fifty coppers?”

“Lady, the room literally has blood in it. Forty, and you throw in the stabling fee. You know you’re not gonna rent that out without a deep cleaning.”

“D-deal.”

— —

Vir went up the stairs and entered his room only after he’d ensured the stablehand had secured Bumpy, and that the beast was well fed and pacified. His poor four-legged friend had had a long few days of travel—some of it traumatic—and Vir wanted to make it up to him.

Luckily, the maids had already removed the sheets, though the room still stank of copper, and not all the bloodstains had been erased. Vir threw open the only window in the room, leaving the door ajar to create a draft.

Setting down his rucksack, he draped his blanket on the bed and slumped down next to Neel, who’d already curled up on the bed. He thought he’d been prepared for it, but cities were exhausting.

Even more exhausting when you’re broke… Vir thought, idly tossing and catching his nearly empty coin sack. He’d paid another ten coppers for dinner tonight, leaving him with a measly fifty coppers. Barely enough for another night. Emergency rations were always an option, but he wanted to avoid dipping into that unless there was an emergency. No telling when he’d need it.

Which meant he needed money immediately. Tomorrow morning, he’d apply to the Brotherhood.

With his thoughts on money, Vir found his eyes drooping.

He drifted off to sleep, only to suddenly awaken upon hearing a jarring thud.

Oh, grak! The room door! I never locked it!

Vir bolted out, hoping to glimpse the perpetrator, but there was no one.

Reentering his room, the door slammed shut behind him all on its own. That was when he noticed it was merely the wind that had pulled it closed.

That was stupid, he thought, heaving a sigh. What was I thinking, falling asleep with the door open like that?

That too, in a room where there had been a fight only an hour prior.

Just in case, he inventoried everything and found nothing amiss.

“Better rustle up some coin,” he said to Neel, retrieving the bandits’ rusty daggers.

Vir donned his rucksack, leaving only the blanket behind, before inserting his room key into the lock. He gave the door a tug to ensure it was sealed, then headed down to the entrance with his canine companion. The rays of the run had only just grown long in the sky, which meant he still had some daylight left to sell the orb.

“Where’s the nearest pawnshop?” Vir asked the same lazy receptionist who’d helped him earlier.

“Whatchya selling?”

“Some daggers,” Vir replied.

She gestured outside. “Try the one across the market. Good prices here, unlike some of the other spots.”

Vir stepped out to find the square even busier than when he’d left. He pulled Neel close, lest they get separated.

What is going on here? he wondered. This can’t be normal, right?

Everywhere, people just stood around, idling away. He wouldn’t have cared, except it impeded his progress. Slowly, he pushed and shoved his way past people to the other side of the square. Vir was tempted to use Dance of the Shadow Demon, but it would attract attention if he suddenly popped up in someone’s shadow. With this many eyes, he didn’t want to take any risks.

“At least she didn’t tell me to go halfway across the city,” Vir grumbled. He doubted he’d have been able to make it there and back today.

Thankfully, the musky, low-roofed store seemed mostly devoid of customers at this hour. The place was packed full of random knick knacks and odds and ends from what was likely several countries around the known world. Nothing there looked magical, or even remotely useful.

Neel made sure he sniffed everything.

“How can I help ya today?” a pudgy middle-aged man asked from behind the counter. Most of his hair had already balded, and like most Dahans, he wore a great black bushy beard. “Surprised ya made it through that throng!”

“Tell me about it. Is something going on?”

The shopkeeper gave him the same look the receptionist had earlier in the day. “What, ya from the country or something? Princess Mina Hiranya is returning to town this evening! Her entourage is due to pass right here through Market Square!”

Vir’s eyes went wide. A sly grin crept up on his face. “Tell me more.”