Amphital: a fantasy novel project
-- previous -- one start (2nd attempt) -- the other beginning
(I'll tie those two plot lines up, soon enough)


The main Guard House stood just off of what was still called the Hanging Square. A gallows hadn't cast a shodow across this small plaza for centuries, but any attempt to rename it always failed. Officially it was now called Chancellor's Park, but few citizens would recognise it by that name.

Dawn was just under the horizon, out to sea in the east, though the low clouds were already rosy in anticipation. The city of Tifalis was set in a bowl, cut into a series of low hills, with tiers rising above the harbor as if to catch the morning sun, in this predawn night still clung to every wall and building. Trey looked out over the Hanging Square and felt the chill and damp of last night still coming off of the stones, up through his boots and drifting into his clothes. He shivered.

Behind him, Bearn emerged from the Guard House, after giving a few terse orders to the men on duty at the entrance. He tossed his cloak back over one shoulder, to reveal both the guard's crest on his tunic, and the knotted cord of rank at his shoulder. He put a reassuring hand on Trey's shoulder, just briefly, and then turned to stalk off in the direction of the Bell's Stream District.

Hanging Square stood just south of the Duke's Residence, within sight of both the Palace, where the council met, and the Blackhalls, where the Duke and Ministers of Justice would sit in court, when occasion merited. Most cases were handled simply, by the guard, but any man held for more than three days, or under threat of death had the ancient right of applying directly to the Duke for judgment.

This put them on one of the upper tiers of the city, just above the terrace with mansions of the rich and notable, and well above the shops and homes of Trey's neighborhood.

It'll be a long walk, but at least it's downhill, Trey thought. Trey shrugged to settle his cloak around his shoulders, and followed Bearn down the Artery, the main road that lead from the Old Quay all the way up the Palace.

The Artery ran in a series of broad switchbacks, and wasn't the fastest way down to the harbor, but being a broad paved road, it was usually the easiest way to travel from one district to another in Tifalis. There were many hidden alleys and stairways that cut from tier to tier, but these direct routes were narrow, out of sight, and dangerous to attempt except during the daylight hours.

Bearn did lead Trey down one stairway, a shortcut past the mansions and private parks, to the tier underneath, the main Temple District. From the almost hidden stairway, Trey and Bearn followed the Path of Old Gods, with its many ruined and neglected temples, to Holy Street and Heaven's Plaza, where they were able to pick up the Artery again and continue down to the city proper.

The top three terraces of Tifalis were well defined, the gates and stairs piercing the yellow-gold sandstone walls at set intervals, the streets and avenues running in ordered arcs and rays that echoed the curve of the hills. Here were the noble and notable, those who did not need or thought themselves above the commerce and bustle of the city below them.

Past the temple district, there was no order, past the mainline of the Artery as it worked it way down to the sea. In the tangle of streets and alleys, the business and life of city took place. Trey's neighborhood, the Bell's Stream district, followed the rough path of an old stream down a couple of tiers before giving way to the warehouses next to the Harbor district.

Bell's Stream was covered over in parts, existed as exposed waterfalls in a few plazas, and fed numerous fountains along it's course. In turn it was fed by Duke Weran's Aqueduct, and had long ago been paved along its bed, so unlike so many other ancient streams, the water still ran clean and clear. Many families have lived in the district past living memory, and quite a few are proud to have been born "within the sound of the Bell"

Dawn was coming in over the waves now, streaming past the ships at anchor and almost up to the Palace. Trey shed his cloak, carrying it tuck under his arm, though Bearn seemed as unaffected by the warmth of morning sun as much as he had been from the pre-dawn chill. The first vendors were already out with their carts, either finding their accustomed stations or preparing for their long circuit plying their wares along the streets and plazas of town. No one was calling yet, with only the other cartmen and women to sell to, but soon the cries would rise up, hawking fish and oysters, pots and pottery, cloth and ribbon, and a dozen types of meat pies. Even in this first light of day, coin was changing hand, though between other sellers, with a nod and a wink and a "friendly discount".

As they turned the seventh switchback from the top, Bearn turned to Teay and asked, "So where is your family's shop? Is it near the top of Bell's Stream or should we follow the Artery down one more turn?"

"We can take Odette's Stair, here past the King's Ransom," Trey answered. "Our weavers and shop are close to it's base."

"Well then, almost home." Bearn gave Trey a measuring stare. "Did you sleep at all, lad? Today will not be easy, no doubt, even with me here to help explain. I hope you're rested."

"Enough, I guess," Trey said. In truth, Trey felt tired to the bone, but he found the will to move, particularly now so close to home. I'd hate to climb these steps, though, with how I feel. I just want to lay down and sleep for a week, Trey thought.

Shouts called down to Trey and Bearn from the top of the stair. There was obviously some struggle, though in the early morning light all they could see were profiles and a crowd, at least until a cart tettered at the top step.

Odette's Stair was wide enough for four men, even four men of Bearn's size, but it cut down through city walls, and the sandstone stood tall on either side. Any vendors cart would likely fill the whole of the passage, and as near as Trey could tell, the one currently threatening him was loaded down with clay pots. He knew he should move, but he stared in horror instead.

Bearn shocked him into action. "Move, lad! Now!" Bearn slapped him on the shoulder, but didn't wait. The sergeant was already taking the stairs four at a time, and moving at a speed belied by his large frame. Trey scrambled to keep up, almost tripping over his own feet, not daring to look back as he heard the vendor's cart tumbling on the stair behind him.

With twenty feet still to go, Trey lost his footing, and fell headfirst down the steps.

He felt a strong hand grab him by the collar, and pull him to one side. The cart collided with a smash into the statue that marked the base of the stair.

Trey woke a few moments later, with Bearn snapping fingers in front of his face. "Guard up, Lad. No telling what's next," Bearn said. Trey rose shakily to his feet, and drew his knife.

The two stood back to back for a long minute, but nothing else seemed to be coming.

Trey had just caught his breath again. Bearn sheathed his sword reluctantly. "So almost home, right, lad?" Bearn said.

Trey began laughing nervously. Bearn chucked him on the shoulder, an offhand guesture that seemed to reassure and calm Trey, and soon the two were facing each other with broad grins. Trey reached out to grasp Bearn's hand.

"Thank you, sergeant. I don't think I would've made it this morning without you."

"Nonsense, lad. And I think it's more important now that ever, that we meet again this evening at the Three Sheets. You're in need of more than just a knife, that's perfectly clear."

[to be continued]