Chapter Forty-Seven

The walls of Wenmark were white as snow and loomed larger than any walls that Speranzi had ever seen in all her life. They boasted great towers at exactly equal intervals, atop each one were siege weapons, catapults and ballista, and a great wide gate that had to be as tall as any ten men and four times as wide sat open and inviting across a wide road which split toward a dock in the great lake one way, and toward the far horizon in another.

Etched into the wall itself were the full bodies of the known gods of men, fine full figures cast all in the white stone, their faces cast down from either side of the gate, watching the people pass back and forth within. On either side of the known gods there were carved the mere shapes of pillars, as if waiting for the unknown gods to come and guide humanity again.

The lake itself was so smooth and perfect in its reflection to the eyes that it was like a part of the sky had fallen down and landed on the ground. At the mouth of the river which fed into the lake, Speranzi saw the back of an old man crouching and scooping stones into a wicker basket, while farther out on the water small crafts with fishers threw their nets into the water.

Their distant voices were no greater than whispers, and they paid no attention to the barge or the passengers on it. The walls of almost any city would have hidden what lay within, particularly walls like these which put mighty Prioche to shame… but the great castle within with its many spires was so large that even the walls could not keep it from overlooking the world.

“Never in my life… never in my whole life, did I imagine men could build like this!” Skana gasped with reverential awe, her eyes tilted up as they drew closer to the dock.

Even in Corwin’s mind, Skana wasn’t wrong to look with awe, even the face of each god was easily as tall as the tallest of men and twice as broad as the span of his arms. He went to stand beside her, looking up at the statues as the barge slowed down its drifting rate and the crew steered it in close, following a gentle course of the water’s current. “Your doubt is understandable. It truly is. I wouldn’t believe it myself if I hadn’t seen it.”

“Is it really marble?” Speranzi asked, “Somebody once told me that’s what it was, I didn’t believe it but… there it is.”

“No.” Corwin let out a deep belly laugh, “By the gods, no. That would be far, far too expensive. Even for this place. It’s the usual stuff, the marble is a facade, I know because I once handled a contract to provide them some of the stone they needed for the repairs.”

“Oh. That’s disappointing, but then… smart. Marble wouldn’t be a good stone if there ever were a siege here.” Speranzi said, her half criticism did nothing to tear away her eyes from the sight of the white city.

“If it’s no good for sieges, why bother at all?” Skana asked and scratched her head.

“Vanity. Sheer vanity and pride.” Corwin answered, “This is the richest human city in the world, most of the orichalcum, adamantium, mithril, and other vital ores from iron to gold, come from lands under the direct control of the families here.”

“Do they really grow gold?” Skana asked, “Like from the ground? A traveler passing through my village once said something like that.”

Corwin’s laugh redoubled, “Yes, but not the shiny rock. It’s wheat. Outside of the city literally named for the crop, the one in the Divine Kingdom ‘Wheaton’, there is no city anywhere I know that can produce more of it than this one. You can’t see it from here, but,” he pointed toward the horizon where the massive lake continued on, “on the other side of this, there are massive latifundia, great estates like the Divine Kingdom uses, where the grain magnates grow crops using hundreds and hundreds of slaves. With the wealth of grain that they produce, it is exported all over the human kingdoms, chances are if you’ve ever eaten bread that you didn’t grow the wheat for, at least some of it came from right here.”

“You sound like you admire the place.” Speranzi said as Corwin spoke of the city’s wondrous prosperity.

He shook his head. “I’m just a realist. It is what it is. Powerful, impressive… even the Demon God would not lightly attack a place like this. Their guards are equipped with some of the finest weapons and armor money can buy, they can field an army not just of regular soldiers, but expensive mercenaries that could challenge the southern King himself, or the northern Queen. They’re not to be trifled with. The streets are safe and clean, and they have some of the richest and most powerful temples. As one of the holy cities founded by the gods themselves… it is a place like no other.”

It still sounded to them as if he were praising it.

But he sat down heavily on a barrel, the wood creaked under his girth and he looked over the chain and down into the waters and said, “And there is no place I have ever found that I hated more.”

Speranzi frowned and furrowed her brow. His many admonitions came readily to her mind, not to mention her promise to fight on behalf of the elves if it came to a trial, their obvious fear… and of course her own geas. ‘Did I go too far?’ She wondered.

“When we reach the city, we will probably meet the envoy of my uncle. If he does what he usually does on these trips, we’ll end up staying at a place called the Golden Roan. It is a special hotel. It hosts only the wealthiest of the wealthy.” Corwin explained and raised his eyes to Speranzi.

“You are under a geas, aren’t you?” He asked.

Speranzi inclined her head, “To obey the laws of the gods, to prove their justice, and to take no life. I have bound myself by my own magic.” She said and tilted her chin up a little, “For the duration of my journey with you, I couldn’t violate my oath if I tried. Or at least, for this part of the journey.”

“Good. There’s nothing you could do anyway. There’s nothing anybody can do.” Corwin said with a quiet whisper.

“That’s grim. Even if there are a few things I don’t like, if the penalties are too harsh, like you said, this is a sacred city. A place of law, once I converse with the highest of authorities, I’m sure I can get them to see reason.”

“You think they’ll even see you?” Corwin snorted, “Somebody is confident.”

Speranzi nodded. “I’m the hero of Prioche, a survivor of the war against the god of demons, and I’m the last living heir to the House of Jadara. I’m technically a Baroness, even if I never go back there. Not to mention I’m a paladin. They practically have to see me when it comes to religious matters.”

“Even if they do, what makes you think they’ll listen?” Skana asked, and Speranzi snapped her head toward the peasant and gave her a dirty look with a furrowed brow. Skana did not flinch away.

“Because I’m right. I can cite the scriptures telling us to be just, to be good stewards to even a faithful dog. A slave is still a person. Even elves, even demihumans… even if they were given their place by humanity, that just means that our power and chosen status means we have to be just to them.” Speranzi asserted, though she did not know why Corwin sighed when he stretched his hand out and put it to her shoulder.

“You are the best of evil that I’ve ever known, and I could not pity you more.” He said.

“What in the demon god’s name is that supposed to mean?” Speranzi demanded.

But Corwin would say nothing more, he remained quiet until the barge bumped up against the dock and he stood back up saying, “Alright, let’s go in and get this over with.”

And with that, the barge full of passengers were on their feet and making ready to do as he said.