Brigadier General Ivan Ko’Alon was a minor figure in the Kendran Revolutionary War. He probably didn’t deserve a statue, but he was the most important war figure from Barret, so there was now a large stone statue of him in the centre of town. Its inscrutable expression watched over the city. It was also notable for being a great statue to climb on, and at any given time of the day there were five or six precocious children or troublemaking teens using the folds in Ko’Alon’s uniforms to scale the stone behemoth.
Leonas and Ash sat on the statue’s shoulders, looking out over the dark Kendran city. Ash was panting slightly. “Well that took me back. Most exercise I’ve gotten in a while, to be honest.”
Leonas looked equal parts bemused and unimpressed. “So far the highlights of the tour have been the bookstore you bought porn at, the restaurant that allegedly serves the best crapes in Kendran, and a statue to climb on. Real metropolis you have here.”
“Come on, this is great and you know it,” said Ash. “I’ll trade all six wonders of the world for a statue kids have fun climbing every day.”
“Is that an offer? Because I’d be more than able to get you a statue,” Leonas said with a laugh. “But seriously, you seem like a pretty smart guy. Someone with a face and a tongue like yours could do so much better. Why are you still in this crappy border town hanging out with a bunch of queens?”
“What was that about my tongue? I didn’t think we’d gotten that far yet,” joked Ash.
Leonas was surprised to find himself blushing. “I meant as in speech. You’re charming. Ah... you know what I mean.”
“Of course. But seriously, this is where I grew up. It sucks, but I love it.” Ash shrugged heavily. “And those ‘queens’ you talk about are my friends. They may act a little silly on the outside, but they’re good guys. And I’d rather be a queen than the guy brooding alone at the end of the bar.”
Leonas realized that his blushing wasn’t stopping anytime soon. He began to scale down the statue. “I just can’t help but feel that you could be doing better. At least seeing the world.”
“Doing better by whose definition?” asked Ash, deftly following across the brow of Ko’Alon’s nose.
Leonas reached the ground with a graceful landing. He didn’t really have anything to say, as for once his mind couldn’t seem to concentrate on the conversation. He felt hot, delirious almost. It was probably the booze. He had been warned about Kendran ale.
There was a silence, with both men trying to think of something to say. It was a mind-melting silence, that made Leonas question himself a thousand times before Ash finally spoke.
“It was nice meeting you,” Ash said, turning to go.
Leonas felt very distant, almost alien, as his hand seemed to reach out of its own volition and grabbed the wrist of the retreating Ash. Ash turned to stare at him slightly bemused.
“Don’t go,” was all Leonas managed to get out.
Ash smiled and kissed him forcefully. And he didn’t go.
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Saturday, August 30, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Chapter 7-4
Leonas had a knack for finding gay bars, even those who wouldn’t admit they were gay bars. The Noun’s Noun looked like little more than your average tavern, and the fresh-faced young barkeep behind the counter had probably thought it was until he looked around one day and realized that he was surrounded by men, and affectionate men at that. It was a steady clientele at least.
It was nothing Leonas hadn’t seen before. The guys were young, stupid, and self-consciously feminine. They twittered with delight at their difference, and took great pains to sound like bad stereotypes. Maybe there were some who wouldn’t irritate Leonas enough over the night, but he had no desire to dig through a pile of queens and the language barrier to get them. He knew he shouldn’t have come out here, but Anjanette was so insistent. Occasionally she came along with him, when she just wanted to get drunk and not be hit on, but that was pretty rare.
“Don’t see you around here much,” a deep voice said behind him in Imperial. A tall man with long dark hair sat down behind him. He was strikingly handsome, his features sharp as if molded from clay.
“I’m only stopping in town for the night,” said Leonas, taking a swig from his gin.
“A pity,” the other man said. “Call me Ash. Because it’s my name.”
“Leonas,” he said.
“Is Leo okay?”
“Only one person has permission to call me Leo, and she had to beat it out of me.”
Ash chuckled. “Leonas it is. So what brings you to our fair town?”
Leonas shrugged. “Damned if I know. I think I’m on a quest or something.”
“So how’s questing?” asked Ash. His smile absolutely refused to die or abate.
“To be honest, it involves a lot more walking and a lot less action than I’d expected,” said Leonas.
“Yeah, well, that’s life,” Ash said. Leonas couldn’t fight back the laugh. “Want me to show you around town?”
“I’m only staying here for one night,” said Leonas.
There was an irresistible twinkle in Ash’s eye. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”
* * *
The men hovered around Anjanette like a swarm of bees over sweets left unguarded.
They flattered her, bought her drinks and food, asked standard questions, tripped over their heavy accents. Anjanette giggled and flirted her way through it, keeping them all on strings.
Milly had paid for every one of her drinks, which were starting to add up. Nobody approached her. Occasionally she would try to enter into conversation, but she was usually ignored. She was, she realized in an instant of clarity, the ugly wingman.
“Fuck...” she mumbled clutching the bar counter. Hands feeling like they were on someone else’s body, she took another long swig of ale. She had stopped noticing the bitterness a few drinks back.
“You okay, Milly?” Anjanette asked.
“I’m fine,” Milly bit back. “Not like anyone gives a shit.”
“Milly...” Anjanette trailed off, sounding concerned.
Milly stood up, slamming her hands against the bar. “Great, Anj. Just fucking brilliant. Fucking look at you.”
“You know, this might be the first time I’ve heard you swear,” Anjanette said off hand.
“Shut UP!” Milly screeched. “Was this the whole point? Look at how pretty I am, look at how ugly you are, guys love me because I have big boobs and don’t wear a lot of clothes... is that it, Anj? Is this all you want, to fuck morons who drool over you? Well have a blast! Fuck!”
Milly stormed out of the bar, ignoring Anjanette shouting after her. She fought off tears valiantly. She shouldn’t cry, there was no reason to cry. She was angry.
Anger and passion burned through Milly’s veins, something primal that she wasn’t entirely sure about. She felt disoriented, with everything a bit blurry and uneven before her, but she was sure she could take it. Milly began the walk back to the inn.
She had only gotten about halfway when a hand grabbed her by the shoulder. Milly was surprised that someone had caught up to her without her noticing – her senses were normally better than that. She was even more surprised when it was just a fat drunk. He laughed, blowing bitter breath into her face. “Hey pretty girl. What’s your name?”
“Let me go,” Milly demanded. It came out as a slurred murmur.
The drunk laughed at Milly and pulled her in closer. Milly flailed at him with her fist, but the blow was sloppy and soft. She didn’t have her weapons and, terrifyingly, she found the zone she normally entered when fighting completely gone.
So she did the only thing she could: she screamed.
“Quiet down, l’il lady,” the drunk slurred, moments before being a kick came down on his skull with the force of a rockslide. He toppled over, laying in the street.
Anjanette lowered her leg, looking concerned. “Some guys just can’t say no, right?” she joked feebly.
Milly opened her mouth to launch into another tirade, but promptly collapsed into Anjanette’s arms.
“Sheesh,” Anjanette grinned. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
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It was nothing Leonas hadn’t seen before. The guys were young, stupid, and self-consciously feminine. They twittered with delight at their difference, and took great pains to sound like bad stereotypes. Maybe there were some who wouldn’t irritate Leonas enough over the night, but he had no desire to dig through a pile of queens and the language barrier to get them. He knew he shouldn’t have come out here, but Anjanette was so insistent. Occasionally she came along with him, when she just wanted to get drunk and not be hit on, but that was pretty rare.
“Don’t see you around here much,” a deep voice said behind him in Imperial. A tall man with long dark hair sat down behind him. He was strikingly handsome, his features sharp as if molded from clay.
“I’m only stopping in town for the night,” said Leonas, taking a swig from his gin.
“A pity,” the other man said. “Call me Ash. Because it’s my name.”
“Leonas,” he said.
“Is Leo okay?”
“Only one person has permission to call me Leo, and she had to beat it out of me.”
Ash chuckled. “Leonas it is. So what brings you to our fair town?”
Leonas shrugged. “Damned if I know. I think I’m on a quest or something.”
“So how’s questing?” asked Ash. His smile absolutely refused to die or abate.
“To be honest, it involves a lot more walking and a lot less action than I’d expected,” said Leonas.
“Yeah, well, that’s life,” Ash said. Leonas couldn’t fight back the laugh. “Want me to show you around town?”
“I’m only staying here for one night,” said Leonas.
There was an irresistible twinkle in Ash’s eye. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do.”
* * *
The men hovered around Anjanette like a swarm of bees over sweets left unguarded.
They flattered her, bought her drinks and food, asked standard questions, tripped over their heavy accents. Anjanette giggled and flirted her way through it, keeping them all on strings.
Milly had paid for every one of her drinks, which were starting to add up. Nobody approached her. Occasionally she would try to enter into conversation, but she was usually ignored. She was, she realized in an instant of clarity, the ugly wingman.
“Fuck...” she mumbled clutching the bar counter. Hands feeling like they were on someone else’s body, she took another long swig of ale. She had stopped noticing the bitterness a few drinks back.
“You okay, Milly?” Anjanette asked.
“I’m fine,” Milly bit back. “Not like anyone gives a shit.”
“Milly...” Anjanette trailed off, sounding concerned.
Milly stood up, slamming her hands against the bar. “Great, Anj. Just fucking brilliant. Fucking look at you.”
“You know, this might be the first time I’ve heard you swear,” Anjanette said off hand.
“Shut UP!” Milly screeched. “Was this the whole point? Look at how pretty I am, look at how ugly you are, guys love me because I have big boobs and don’t wear a lot of clothes... is that it, Anj? Is this all you want, to fuck morons who drool over you? Well have a blast! Fuck!”
Milly stormed out of the bar, ignoring Anjanette shouting after her. She fought off tears valiantly. She shouldn’t cry, there was no reason to cry. She was angry.
Anger and passion burned through Milly’s veins, something primal that she wasn’t entirely sure about. She felt disoriented, with everything a bit blurry and uneven before her, but she was sure she could take it. Milly began the walk back to the inn.
She had only gotten about halfway when a hand grabbed her by the shoulder. Milly was surprised that someone had caught up to her without her noticing – her senses were normally better than that. She was even more surprised when it was just a fat drunk. He laughed, blowing bitter breath into her face. “Hey pretty girl. What’s your name?”
“Let me go,” Milly demanded. It came out as a slurred murmur.
The drunk laughed at Milly and pulled her in closer. Milly flailed at him with her fist, but the blow was sloppy and soft. She didn’t have her weapons and, terrifyingly, she found the zone she normally entered when fighting completely gone.
So she did the only thing she could: she screamed.
“Quiet down, l’il lady,” the drunk slurred, moments before being a kick came down on his skull with the force of a rockslide. He toppled over, laying in the street.
Anjanette lowered her leg, looking concerned. “Some guys just can’t say no, right?” she joked feebly.
Milly opened her mouth to launch into another tirade, but promptly collapsed into Anjanette’s arms.
“Sheesh,” Anjanette grinned. “I can’t take you anywhere.”
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Friday, August 22, 2008
Chapter 7-3
The club was dark and somehow misty. The only illumination was magical lights pulsing in a variety of colours. The mist wrapped around Milly and Anjanette’s feet as they made their way to the bar. Anjanette was dressed in her best bar-hopping outfit, a black leather dream that clung tightly to her body. Milly didn’t have a best clubbing outfit, but she had at least been persuaded to leave her cloak at the inn.
They took a seat at the bar. Milly slouched in her seat, her face hiding in her ratty black hair. “Get me some dwarven lager,” ordered Anjanette. The bartender, a burly bored-looking man, plopped down a frothing mug of spirits. Anjanette took a ravenous gulp out of it.
“Aren’t you gonna order a drink, Milly?” she asked.
“Um, I don’t really drink,” Milly said.
“Bullcrap. Get my girl here some ale too.” The bartender shrugged and gave Mily a mug. She demurely took a sip, forcing down the bitter brew. She didn’t want to seem like a kid, after all. This was perfectly normal.
Anjanette pointed to a set of guys sitting at the other end of the bar. The usual young-warrior types, with short haircuts and cocky swaggers. Trying to differentiate between them was like a spot-the-difference game one might give to a child, if one were being particularly cruel.
“What do you think of those guys?” Anjanette asked.
“Um? Well, I haven’t met them...” Milly said.
“On a scale of one to ten.”
“Oh jeez, I don’t know... I don’t really have the right, I think. Everyone has their own tastes and there’s more than meets the eye, of course...”
“One. To. Ten.”
“Um... a seven?” Milly said.
“I’d say a six,” said Anjanette, taking a swig of her ale. “I’m just trying to figure out your taste in guys, Milly.”
Milly blushed. “Um... I guess I’d like a hero. You know, like in the stories.”
Anjanette snorted. “If you’re waiting for a hero, girl, you’ll be waiting a long time.”
They weren’t there long before a man sat down beside Anjanette. He was big and burly, and took great measures to flaunt it. He spoke in native Kendran, an ugly language that flowed in stops and starts.
“Nn hanaketat Kendrant,” said Anjantte, the only Kendran phrase she knew.
The man paused, obviously recalling dusty memories of elementary-school Imperial lessons. “Buy drink to you?”
“Knock yourself out,” Anjanette said offhand. And so it began.
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They took a seat at the bar. Milly slouched in her seat, her face hiding in her ratty black hair. “Get me some dwarven lager,” ordered Anjanette. The bartender, a burly bored-looking man, plopped down a frothing mug of spirits. Anjanette took a ravenous gulp out of it.
“Aren’t you gonna order a drink, Milly?” she asked.
“Um, I don’t really drink,” Milly said.
“Bullcrap. Get my girl here some ale too.” The bartender shrugged and gave Mily a mug. She demurely took a sip, forcing down the bitter brew. She didn’t want to seem like a kid, after all. This was perfectly normal.
Anjanette pointed to a set of guys sitting at the other end of the bar. The usual young-warrior types, with short haircuts and cocky swaggers. Trying to differentiate between them was like a spot-the-difference game one might give to a child, if one were being particularly cruel.
“What do you think of those guys?” Anjanette asked.
“Um? Well, I haven’t met them...” Milly said.
“On a scale of one to ten.”
“Oh jeez, I don’t know... I don’t really have the right, I think. Everyone has their own tastes and there’s more than meets the eye, of course...”
“One. To. Ten.”
“Um... a seven?” Milly said.
“I’d say a six,” said Anjanette, taking a swig of her ale. “I’m just trying to figure out your taste in guys, Milly.”
Milly blushed. “Um... I guess I’d like a hero. You know, like in the stories.”
Anjanette snorted. “If you’re waiting for a hero, girl, you’ll be waiting a long time.”
They weren’t there long before a man sat down beside Anjanette. He was big and burly, and took great measures to flaunt it. He spoke in native Kendran, an ugly language that flowed in stops and starts.
“Nn hanaketat Kendrant,” said Anjantte, the only Kendran phrase she knew.
The man paused, obviously recalling dusty memories of elementary-school Imperial lessons. “Buy drink to you?”
“Knock yourself out,” Anjanette said offhand. And so it began.
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Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Chapter 7-2
“Okay, we can go through,” Anjanette said, nearly skipping.
“Never met a problem you couldn’t sleep with, huh?” said Leonas.
Anjanette’s face curled up like she had just eaten sour fruit. “Him? No way. I just showed him an episode of Noble and Beautiful. He got hooked. Everyone does.”
“I didn’t,” said Milly and Leonas in unison.
“That’s because you guys are no fun,” she teased. “Anyway, it turns out they don’t have such ‘blatant aristocratic propaganda’ in Kendran because of some sort of trade embargo. So I sold him the entire backlog I have in exchange for these.” Anjanette dug three visitor’s IDs out of her purse, each one reading “HONOURED GUEST”. “These babies mean we can enjoy all the fruits of the great People’s Republic of Kendran. Everything to us according to our needs, nothing from us but some soap ilscs.”
“Wow, good job,” marvelled Milly.
“I almost don’t hate that show anymore,” Leonas admitted. “So, shall we get going?”
“Well, if we don’t then the merchants behind us may start throwing things,” said Anjanette. They headed off towards Barret, strolling under a peaceful red sky.
* * *
“I’m bored,” Anjanete said, staring up at the brick ceiling of the inn. “Bored bored bored bored bored.”
“Observe, the perpetual three-year-old,” said Leonas.
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” teased Anjanette. “There’s nothing to do in this town, and we’ve been travelling for way too long. Not to mention I just sold all my soaps. This sucks.”
Milly poked her head out from a treatise on illusory magic. “If you’re that bored I have plenty of interesting books—“
“No,” Anjanette said automatically. She continued to lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling while occasionally fixing her hair, until the proverbial torch lit over her head. “I’ve got it! Let’s go guy-hunting!”
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” said Leonas. “Count me in.”
“Um, you guys have fun,” said Milly. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff to read, and I’ve got this essay on Mial I promised to [i]Aokian Literature Monthly.[/i]”
Anjanette was suddenly a whirling dervish, an unstoppable object of enthusiasm. “Bullcrap. Come on out with us Milly, it’ll be fun.”
“No, it’s really not my thing,” Milly refused.
Anjanette snatched Milly’s book away from her and tossed it aside. She hauled the protesting girl up to her feet. “You made me lose my page!”
“You’re coming out with us,” Anjanette insisted. “Just give it a chance.”
“I guess you won’t take no for an answer,” said Milly with a sigh of resignation. “I’ll go.”
Anjanette smiled a predator’s smile. “See? I always get my way.”
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“Never met a problem you couldn’t sleep with, huh?” said Leonas.
Anjanette’s face curled up like she had just eaten sour fruit. “Him? No way. I just showed him an episode of Noble and Beautiful. He got hooked. Everyone does.”
“I didn’t,” said Milly and Leonas in unison.
“That’s because you guys are no fun,” she teased. “Anyway, it turns out they don’t have such ‘blatant aristocratic propaganda’ in Kendran because of some sort of trade embargo. So I sold him the entire backlog I have in exchange for these.” Anjanette dug three visitor’s IDs out of her purse, each one reading “HONOURED GUEST”. “These babies mean we can enjoy all the fruits of the great People’s Republic of Kendran. Everything to us according to our needs, nothing from us but some soap ilscs.”
“Wow, good job,” marvelled Milly.
“I almost don’t hate that show anymore,” Leonas admitted. “So, shall we get going?”
“Well, if we don’t then the merchants behind us may start throwing things,” said Anjanette. They headed off towards Barret, strolling under a peaceful red sky.
* * *
“I’m bored,” Anjanete said, staring up at the brick ceiling of the inn. “Bored bored bored bored bored.”
“Observe, the perpetual three-year-old,” said Leonas.
“Oh, go fuck yourself,” teased Anjanette. “There’s nothing to do in this town, and we’ve been travelling for way too long. Not to mention I just sold all my soaps. This sucks.”
Milly poked her head out from a treatise on illusory magic. “If you’re that bored I have plenty of interesting books—“
“No,” Anjanette said automatically. She continued to lie on the bed, staring at the ceiling while occasionally fixing her hair, until the proverbial torch lit over her head. “I’ve got it! Let’s go guy-hunting!”
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” said Leonas. “Count me in.”
“Um, you guys have fun,” said Milly. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff to read, and I’ve got this essay on Mial I promised to [i]Aokian Literature Monthly.[/i]”
Anjanette was suddenly a whirling dervish, an unstoppable object of enthusiasm. “Bullcrap. Come on out with us Milly, it’ll be fun.”
“No, it’s really not my thing,” Milly refused.
Anjanette snatched Milly’s book away from her and tossed it aside. She hauled the protesting girl up to her feet. “You made me lose my page!”
“You’re coming out with us,” Anjanette insisted. “Just give it a chance.”
“I guess you won’t take no for an answer,” said Milly with a sigh of resignation. “I’ll go.”
Anjanette smiled a predator’s smile. “See? I always get my way.”
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Saturday, August 16, 2008
Chapter 7-1
Impromptu hiatus over, now let's get back on with the story.
With the excitement of Nariev behind them, the trio began the long journey of walking their way across the Dutchies. They managed to get some normal clothes and started scamming again, this time with Milly occasionally taking part. Occasionally she still wondered about the morals of what she was doing, but it was better than starving. With their extensive collection of fake goods gone, they had to resort to old-fashioned confidence tricks.
Milly shrieked as the heavyset man bumped into her, subtlly shoved by Leonas behind him. She dropped the box she was holding to the ground with a shatter of broken glass. “Sorry,” the man muttered.
“My vase!” Milly shrieked. She opened the box. Inside was a chaotic assortment of glass shards, a complex jigsaw puzzle. “I just got this new vase and now it’s ruined! It cost four gold!”
The man shrugged. “Too bad, lady.” He turned and walked away.
“Um... pay it back?” she called after him, but he didn’t stop.
Leonas slapped his forehead. “Milly, for the last time... you have to be more insistent. Don’t let him walk away. Yell and scream, demand money. That’s the way it works.”
“I’m not good at demanding things,” said Milly sheepishly.
“Well, you seem to be good at crying, do that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, nothing,” said Leonas. “Now here comes the next guy. Try again.”
Milly picked up the box of broken glass and waited for the man now turning the corner to be bumped into her.
* * *
The Great Dome of Kendran was always something that Leonas had wanted to see for himself. One of the most elaborate spells ever cast, it formed a large red dome that covered the entirety of the large nation. Nothing got in and out without the Kendrans knowing. It made them nearly impervious to attack, but it also limited any sort of expansion and most trade.
Still, it was physically impressive if nothing else. A foot-thick wall of red lightning, crackling and shining. Beyond it the gates of the border city Barret were red, the air was red – everything coloured as though through a trick lens.
Leonas whistled. “Impressive.”
“Watch out, he’s going into ‘magic nerd’ mode,” Anjanette warned.
Leonas stepped closer to marvel at the barrier, abandoning the traffic on the trade road. He got as close as he could without being fried by the magical energy. Besides him, merchant carts moved through a room-sized gap in the barrier, at a speed easily beat by the last bit of syrup in the jar.
Finally, their group of three horses reached the gate. They were immediately greeted by two uniformed guards and what looked to be an official of some kind. His mustache and big nose made him look like an editorial caricature of a Kendran communist.
“And what is your business in Kendran?” asked the official.
“Questing,” said Anjanette.
“That is strictly forbidden,” the official said, his voice ringing with haughty indignance. “You shall not rob the graves of our great culture, simply for your own greed.”
“Aw, come on,” said Leonas. “What’s the harm in letting a few people in? We just want to sample this great nation. We may come back to live here, who knows?”
The official looked like he would be more enthused with the plague coming to his country. “You can absolutely not go in. Resources are stretched enough without foreign freeloaders. Go back to whatever slum you came from.”
Anjanette tensed her fist, and swung back. Leonas waited for an international incident, but Anjanette stopped just in time and put on a brave smile. “Can I talk to you in private?”
The official looked Anjanette up and down. She may have lost her clothes in prison, but it hadn’t taken her long to assemble a suitable skimpy outfit. “I can’t see the harm. You two wait outside.”
Anjanette and the mousy official headed to a small building off the side of the road. Behind them a long line of merchant carts groaned at being delayed even more.
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With the excitement of Nariev behind them, the trio began the long journey of walking their way across the Dutchies. They managed to get some normal clothes and started scamming again, this time with Milly occasionally taking part. Occasionally she still wondered about the morals of what she was doing, but it was better than starving. With their extensive collection of fake goods gone, they had to resort to old-fashioned confidence tricks.
Milly shrieked as the heavyset man bumped into her, subtlly shoved by Leonas behind him. She dropped the box she was holding to the ground with a shatter of broken glass. “Sorry,” the man muttered.
“My vase!” Milly shrieked. She opened the box. Inside was a chaotic assortment of glass shards, a complex jigsaw puzzle. “I just got this new vase and now it’s ruined! It cost four gold!”
The man shrugged. “Too bad, lady.” He turned and walked away.
“Um... pay it back?” she called after him, but he didn’t stop.
Leonas slapped his forehead. “Milly, for the last time... you have to be more insistent. Don’t let him walk away. Yell and scream, demand money. That’s the way it works.”
“I’m not good at demanding things,” said Milly sheepishly.
“Well, you seem to be good at crying, do that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, nothing,” said Leonas. “Now here comes the next guy. Try again.”
Milly picked up the box of broken glass and waited for the man now turning the corner to be bumped into her.
* * *
The Great Dome of Kendran was always something that Leonas had wanted to see for himself. One of the most elaborate spells ever cast, it formed a large red dome that covered the entirety of the large nation. Nothing got in and out without the Kendrans knowing. It made them nearly impervious to attack, but it also limited any sort of expansion and most trade.
Still, it was physically impressive if nothing else. A foot-thick wall of red lightning, crackling and shining. Beyond it the gates of the border city Barret were red, the air was red – everything coloured as though through a trick lens.
Leonas whistled. “Impressive.”
“Watch out, he’s going into ‘magic nerd’ mode,” Anjanette warned.
Leonas stepped closer to marvel at the barrier, abandoning the traffic on the trade road. He got as close as he could without being fried by the magical energy. Besides him, merchant carts moved through a room-sized gap in the barrier, at a speed easily beat by the last bit of syrup in the jar.
Finally, their group of three horses reached the gate. They were immediately greeted by two uniformed guards and what looked to be an official of some kind. His mustache and big nose made him look like an editorial caricature of a Kendran communist.
“And what is your business in Kendran?” asked the official.
“Questing,” said Anjanette.
“That is strictly forbidden,” the official said, his voice ringing with haughty indignance. “You shall not rob the graves of our great culture, simply for your own greed.”
“Aw, come on,” said Leonas. “What’s the harm in letting a few people in? We just want to sample this great nation. We may come back to live here, who knows?”
The official looked like he would be more enthused with the plague coming to his country. “You can absolutely not go in. Resources are stretched enough without foreign freeloaders. Go back to whatever slum you came from.”
Anjanette tensed her fist, and swung back. Leonas waited for an international incident, but Anjanette stopped just in time and put on a brave smile. “Can I talk to you in private?”
The official looked Anjanette up and down. She may have lost her clothes in prison, but it hadn’t taken her long to assemble a suitable skimpy outfit. “I can’t see the harm. You two wait outside.”
Anjanette and the mousy official headed to a small building off the side of the road. Behind them a long line of merchant carts groaned at being delayed even more.
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