Chapter 5

“‘Go find a cobbler, we can’t have you walking around, representing your father, in those shoes.’ My shoes are just fine, thank you. I would have sworn it was the servant’s job to do what her lord told her to do, not the other way around.” Jacob was getting strange looks from the others in the streets, but he didn’t care.

The group had arrived at Haden Hill two days previous. Shortly after arriving, Gregory went on his own way, saying that he knew how to handle himself. Aidan had informed the priest of their arrival and discovered that they had been assigned a small suite in a nearby inn. Jacob had been glad to be settled in somewhere again, as his thighs were protesting the horse riding a good deal. Likewise, Aidan seemed to be enjoying the sights and sounds of the city, of which they had a great few from their upper-level balcony. Noreen, however, had been in a near panic ever since they moved into the suite. She instantly started fussing over his clothes, trying to arrange an appropriate ensemble, as well as worry about what she would be doing during the actual wedding. In Penrith Harbor everyone was allowed to go to a wedding, but this was a big city and she didn’t think that she would be permitted.

In an attempt to get away from her constant nagging, he had inquired as to whether there was anything within the city that needed doing. And so he found himself out looking for a cobbler. Haden Hill was an old city, built around the same time as the other ancient settlements, such as Haean and Constagra. Its largest claim to fame was the massive Haden Hill Wall. Historians agree that the Wall is the oldest permanent construction on the entire continent, as well as the largest defensive structure to survive to the present day.

Jacob found it amazing that it was the first true wall ever built as well as the largest, even to this day. He had been wary of believing such a claim. When he had been younger he had visited Constagra, the largest city west of the Watchguard. He recalled the walls there seeming to tower into the sky forever and he had severely doubted that anything could be bigger. However, as they had neared the city, Jacob’s views had begun to change. The Wall was easily twice as thick and half again as tall as the walls of Constagra and just by looking at it; one could tell that it was ancient and strong.

The city was surrounded by the relatively flat plains characteristic of the northern arm of the Kyrithia Province. Unlike the larger cities, the inhabitants of Haden Hill had refused to allow their great wall to be torn down or to become a showpiece as their population grew. Instead, five other smaller districts had been created, equally spaced around the Wall. They were also walled, but they were much shorter. The walls of the districts were relatively semicircular and butted directly into the Wall, creating somewhat of a start in shape.

Haden Hill’s history was as interesting as its famous wall. It was the ancient home of Diatar Faryden, First King of Kyrithia. Ever since then, a Faryden had ruled over the city. This was usually a rule by proxy, however, as the ruling Faryden had to hold court in Constagra because of his kingship. The family always returned to hold its wedding, however, which was why Jacob was in Haden Hill and not Constagra.

During the Burning Years, back when dragons and men had been enemies, Haden Hill had been one of the few cities that had survived intact. It had also been constantly militarized since the Old Empire and likely before then, as well. Sitting upon the river which fed Constagra and one of the few large river crossings, it was an important tactical position that many had tried to take. However, Haden Hill was also the home of the Kyrithian Knights; famed horsemen who had served continuously since the founding of Kyrithia. They were regarded by all, including their enemies, as the best cavalry unit to ever be formed.

Fuming, Jacob turned a corner and walked square into the broad chest of a town guard, who promptly shoved him away. Before he could yell at the man, he suddenly realized that he had no idea where he was. He had somehow wandered into one of the outer districts, as he realized that the Wall was behind him. He was growing frustrated and tired, not knowing where he was or where a shoe repairer could be found. So, he decided that he would forget everything and have himself a drink.

Unlike a cobbler’s booth, it wasn’t difficult to find the small tavern. He didn’t know what the place was called, as there was no sign hanging from above the door, but it was fairly obvious from the noise and the people coming out of the building. Jacob had heard stories of such places and had always wanted to see what they were like. Pulling up his pants and looking about once more, he walked confidently into the tavern.

He was mildly disappointed with his first view of the place. Everything seemed to be made from a very dark wood that drank in the light issued from the various lanterns and the hearth. There were tables lined with booths and chairs and a large bar that ran the length of the wall opposite the entrance. Serving girls walked between the tables, distributing individual mugs or entire pitchers of an extremely dark ale. A small group of men stood in the corner playing various instruments while a tall, old woman sang songs he didn’t know. He realized that they were the source of the majority of the noise, as most of the patrons talked amongst themselves. He had been expecting some sort of large brawl between large quantities of drunken men, with furniture, mugs and bottles shattering all over the place.

Jacob made his way over to the bar and sat down, far from the others. They were all solemnly staring into their mugs, oblivious to the world around them. He motioned to the barkeep in a matter he thought appropriate and waited. It wasn’t more than a moment before he had a mug of warm ale in from of him. He was too surprised to say anything, because he hadn’t even been asked what he wanted. He guessed that ale was the only thing the place served, so he picked up the mug and took a sip as his mind began to wander.

He found himself thinking about the village of Highwood. The place had haunted his dreams and preoccupied his mind since their departure from there over a week ago. Like most, Jacob had been aware of the wars raging in the north and the east and, like most, had decided that they didn’t really affect him. What did it matter to Penrith Harbor if some mountain and Ruana men fought one another? Why should he care if some upstart noble decided to unite the Ruana and Hiptia provinces? The fighting had always been such a distant thing, easily forgotten. Now, however, Jacob understood what the results of battle were like and had realized that they were nothing like the stories told by old Matan.

He had found himself wondering as to whether there was a logical explanation for what he had seen. Had the town done something to bring this attack upon itself? Had this Parades person had a reason for bringing slaughter to those people? Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t think of a single reason. Highwood was just a little community that sustained itself on its grazed animals, the fish it collected from the nearby river, and the small amount it could gather through trade. Aidan had said that the so-called Great Lord of the East was simply attacking smaller villages because he could in order to make the people over here fear and respect the power that he could bring to bear. He seemed to accept it as a common military procedure, saying that it was a lot easier to kill unarmed peasants than to lay siege to a keep and lose thousands of men before its walls. Jacob had decided that any man who would do such a thing was a monster.

He was only about halfway through his first drink when suddenly a man flopped down into the chair beside him. He was as tall as Jacob, handsome, and had the build of someone who knew how to handle themselves in a fight. He was also quite drunk. The man yelled down to the barkeeper, quite loudly, while Jacob started to stand and leave before he had a chance, however, the man whirled around on his stool and looked right at him.

“I don’t know why it is an honest man can’t find a drink in this town…know what I mean?” As he said it, the barkeeper set a drink down in front of him. With a tip of his imaginary hat, he picked up the mug and took a swallow. “I mean really. Why isn’t there a single place to get some ale? Hmm?”

Jacob wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He had seen drunk men, of course, at celebrations and down by the harbor. But those men were all people he knew and he understood how they acted when drunk. This man was a complete stranger. “Uhh…you have a drink in your hand, sir.”

The drunk made an exaggerated effort of looking at his hand. A surprised look fell upon his face as though he was just noticing the cup. “Well now, you’d be right. You’ve eyes like a hawk, boy.” Jacob nodded as the drunk started drinking more deeply and he hoped that would be the end of his engagement. Unfortunately, the man looked back to him a moment later.

“This town is too small for me, you know? I mean, the city is big enough, but it isn’t open enough. Everywhere you bloody turn you run into a giant wall. Why do we need things this big nowadays, huh? There aren’t any more dragons around. The Ancient Men don’t bother with us any longer. Those Easterners would never be able to bring something like this down. It all seems like a bunch of waste to me. If it wasn’t for my family I would never come back here.”

Jacob found himself listening to the man’s words, despite his desire to make a quick departure. He noticed that the man, though drunk, didn’t seem to slur his words or have trouble organizing his words. He was rambling, but it was a cohesive rambling. More importantly, he seemed to know a bit about the current military situation in the area. Before he could ask anything, however, the drunken fellow continued.

“Did you hear about those villages in the south getting destroyed? It was a true shame, let me tell you. They took out Nora Lake, Highwood, Kingsburg, and the list goes on. We aren’t going to have any more towns if this keeps up.” He took another drink and stared into the counter, seemingly losing himself in thought.

“I was at Highwood a week past. It was a terrible sight.” The drunk’s head snapped up and he looked intently at Jacob.

“You were at Highwood? The attack wasn’t more than eight days ago. Tell me about it, if you would.” He seemed a touch less drunk than before and so Jacob straightened himself up and tried to picture the town once more in his mind.

“Apparently we had arrived only a day or so after the attack. Most of the buildings had been put to the torch. Only the lord’s manor, the Temple, and a few other stone buildings had managed to survive. Many were killed in the streets as they ran. Others managed to escape, a few hundred in all. They’ll be spending months rebuilding their homes.”

As he had spoken, the man’s face grew grimmer. “That’s just fantastic. Aton Paredes will have a sword through his gullet before this is all over, believe you me.” He upended his cup, drinking down its contents in one giant gulp. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“I’m Jacob. And you are?”

“Jacob, I’m glad you bumped into me today. I had heard of the attack, but I hadn’t heard specifics. It’s enough to drive a man into the bottle for the rest of his life. Come, I’ll buy you a drink.” With that, the man whirled about, stood up and promptly fell flat on his face with a loud thud. The bartender looked over and shook his head.

“I let ‘em stay until they start hittin’ my floor. Scoop up your friend and get ‘im out of here.”

Jacob made to protest, but the man simply and sternly pointed to the door then went back to cleaning his mugs. His eyes moved across the room, hoping to find someone willing to help. He was disappointed to find that nobody seemed to care about the man upon the floor. With a sigh, Jacob bent over and grabbed the man’s arm.

After a considerable amount of time and a certain amount of wrestling – which had given many in the room a good chuckle – Jacob finally managed to get the man onto his feet. With one arm around the man’s shoulder and the other held out to his side for balance, he walked the drunk toward and out of the door into the street, which was only illuminated by the bright moon which hung low in the sky. He stood there for a time, wondering what he should do with the man before the drunk finally took his arm from Jacob’s shoulders and stood on his own, wobbling lightly in the breeze.

“It was nice meeting you, sir,” Jacob said, wanting to be finished with the man as quickly as possible.

“And you, Jacob. But please, I must reward your kindness. How about coming over to my house and having a drink? None of this horrid ale, of course. I’m thinking a fine white wine from the western coast. It’s rather good. Come, come.”

The man waved his arm a few times then went stumbling down the road. Jacob stood for a moment, quite aware of the fact that he could simply turn around, walk away, and be done with the man. Watching him stumble about, however, filled Jacob with guilt for some reason. He didn’t want the fool to hurt himself on the way home, after all. Only a few years back, Arthur the Stonecutter had been drunk and had fallen from a harbor. He had washed back onto shore a few days later.

With a sigh, Jacob turned and followed after the man.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m a little fuzzy as to where my house is, uh…located. But I’m sure we’ll find it soon enough.”

They walked for a time in silence, the roads practically deserted. It was strange to Jacob to see a city as big as Haden Hill completely silent. He had always figured that places like this staid busy and loud all through the night, with lights shining, music playing, and people dancing until sunrise. It had never really occurred to him that city folk had to sleep just like everyone else. He blamed Matan for that mindset.

His eyes wandered before spotting armored guards moving about on top of the walls, small torches burning in their hands. Somehow, the sight of the walls and the guards made him feel safe and he started to realize why people would want to live in such a place. Surely it was safer than living in the plains or on the river where attacks could come rolling in at any moment.

“Ah-ha! Here we are, my friend. This looks to be the place.” Jacob and the drunk stood before a large, three-story manor tucked between other, smaller homes. He was rather surprised by the size of the dwelling, considering the fact that it was owned by a drunken man. It was only then that Jacob realized that the man’s clothes were anything but the common rags seen in bars. His shirt seemed well-worn and wrinkled, but it was a dark green silk. His pants were in a similar condition, though they were soft cotton and seemed to be of a good stitch. Jacob found himself wondering what this man did for a living.

“Come along now and please be quiet. We don’t want to wake anyone inside.” The man turned and silently walked to a side down, opened it and disappeared inside. After a moment’s pause, Jacob went and followed him in.

He found himself standing in an ornate dining room, with a few candles still burning upon the large oak table. Great tapestries hung from the walls, each depicting epic battle scenes. Walking over to one, Jacob saw a man riding upon a giant black dragon, a long spear in one hand and a horn in the other. The dragon’s mouth was open with fire spewing forth onto the army below. The hanging next to it showed three beings doing battle within a large chamber. One was the man whom had been riding the dragon, one was the dragon itself and the last was a tall, dark figure with fearsome red eyes and a terrible scythe in its hand. The image stirred something within Jacob, for he was sure that he had heard or seen something about that particular fight, perhaps from Matan.

“Would you like some food, my friend? It appears that there is some beef or something here and apparently a bit of wine. I’m afraid it’s not white, however.” The man extended a glass cup to Jacob, which he took thankfully. He took a drink and continued to look around the room.

“This is a nice place you have here, sir. As fine as any-” His words were cut off as a noise issued from the doorway in the far wall. Suddenly a tall, portly man came leaping into the room with a small brass cudgel held tightly in his hand. Jacob felt sorry for waking the man and moved to apologize.

“What are you doin’ in my bloody house?!” the man asked in a deep, irritated voice. Jacob, rather confused, looked to the drunk who was staring at the man with wide eyes. Jacob decided that he needed to defuse the situation.

“I’m sorry, sir. This fellow said that this was his house and…”

“His house? His house?! I’ll beat both of you bloody, Father help me!”

With a roar, the fat man came charging at the two intruders. The drunken man was surprisingly fast on his feet and was out the backdoor before Jacob could react. His mind was still trying to grasp the situation when the owner of the house took a strong swing at his head. He fell backward, spilling the wine all over the rug and himself. He rolled to the side, dodging a downward smash, before leaping to his feet. Self-defense mechanisms kicked in and he gave the man a push, sending him sprawling across the floor. In terror, Jacob flew out of the house and down the road, the fat man streaming and cursing as he did.

After running for what seemed like hours, Jacob finally came to a stop at a street corner. He leaned against a nearby building, struggling to regain his breath. As his heart was just beginning to return to a normal speed, the drunk came walking around the corner.

“Well, Jacob, that was apparently not my house. Odd, I thought that was it.”

“You…bloody fool. We could have been…killed!” He noticed that, while he was panting and sweating, the man opposite him didn’t seem any worse for the wear. This irritated Jacob to no end.

“Bah, we were fine,” the drunk said, suddenly stumbling to his left for no apparent reason. “That fellow was fat, anyway. He couldn’t catch us. It was fun, though, wasn’t it?”

“It wasn’t fun, it was…was…” Jacob suddenly found himself laughing over the sheer idiocy of what had just occurred. “You don’t look that drunk. You knew that wasn’t your house.”

A sly smile formed upon the man’s face. “First off, I am rather drunk still. For instance, I see three of you. But I must confess that I knew what I was doing.”

“You’re a madman. I should find a city guard and tell him to lock you up.”

“They wouldn’t lock up a prince such as me,” the drunk said, striking a stately pose. He started laughing along with Jacob until someone yelled down at them from a window, telling them to be quiet. With a sigh, the man looked up at the sky.

“I must now be getting home; my real home. It was a pleasure, Jacob. I hope we meet again!” The man turned and started down the street.

“And I hope I never see you again, sir. Goodnight.” Shaking his head, Jacob looked around in an attempt to get his bearings. With the excitement of the evening waning, he suddenly became aware of how extremely tired he was. As he walked down the road in the opposite direction as his new friend, he wondered to himself whether city life was always like this and whether Reyna had ever had any midnight escapades during her visits to Constagra. He decided that he would have to tell her all about it when he returned.

After walking somewhat aimlessly for about fifteen minutes, Jacob was exceptionally surprised to find himself standing outside of the inn where he was staying. He had figured that he was on the opposite side of the city by now, but somehow his midnight escape had brought him back to where he had started. Just as happiness filled him, however, he realized that he would likely be yelled at by Noreen, for he hadn’t succeeded in finding a cobbler. It seemed to him that she had a special way of ruining his moods. Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath and walked in and up to the suite.

“Where have you been?” The question echoed through the room and Jacob feared that the noise would wake the others. “You were supposed to go get your shoes fixed. How hard could that be, hmm? In a town this big, surely you could find something as common as a cobbler. But no! I see that you’ve been out drinking. Do you think that wine just flows right out of clothes on command? You’ve ruined that shirt, I hope you know.”

Looking down at himself, he realized that the red wine from the fat man’s house had thoroughly stained the chest of his shirt and the top of his pants, as well. He didn’t really have the patience for such arguing as it was rather late.

“I just stopped by a tavern. I haven’t been out drinking all night. Why aren’t you asleep?”

“You think I can sleep with you wandering through the city alone?”

“I’m touched, Noreen,” Jacob said, rolling his eyes.

“Well you should be. I’m the only one that seems to care about what you do with yourself. Well if you weren’t out boozing then what were you doing, hmm? See if you can talk your way out of it, boy.” This greatly frustrated Jacob.

“You’re right, you’re right. I was out drinking all night. I got thoroughly drunk, ran around with another drunk, broke into some rich guy’s house, drank some of his wine, almost got my head smashed in, ran halfway across Haden Hill, and sobered up just in time to come up here and say hello.”

Noreen simply stood there for a few moments staring at him. “You don’t have to be sarcastic. Now get to bed.” She turned and returned to her room, slamming the door as she went.

“And a good night to you, too, Noreen.”

Jacob fell upon his bed without changing his clothes. His fatigue had been steadily increasing and it had grown almost unbearable. Within a few moments, he was asleep.