Chapter 9-2

Thrnjorn, or “Jorn” to everyone who lacked the ability to pronounce pure consonants, looked like something out of a picture book. Squeezed between lush green forest and the calm waves of the Bluewater Ocean, the city sat half on land and half built over the sea, a triumph of architecture that had never been duplicated. All of the streets and the old building were white marble, newer brick buildings sticking out like a sore thumb. Heka had been the crown jewel of an empire long ago, built at enormous personal expense. After ten years, when the last block of ivory was put into place, the empire had gone bankrupt and disintegrated into wartorn nations. The builders shrugged and decided to live in their imperial city.

And of course, from that city had spawned Heka, a country whose name was only ever spat or loftily whispered. When the trio had made their way into the city there were no guards to question them. They were, however, briefly accosted by a group of prostitutes hawking their services like one of Nariev’s merchants. They did not restrict their offers to Leonas.

“Ah, this is the life,” said Anjanette. Her face was nearly split with a grin. “Milly, we are partying here tonight, and you are coming. Anyone who goes to Jorn and spends the whole time on business is not someone I want in my life.”

“I don’t know... last time...”

“Hey Anj, you ever wonder what Milly would be like hopped up on spellsauce?” said Leonas.

Anjanette laughed. “Leonas, it’s times like these I remember why you’re the brains of the operation.”

Milly shivered. “Um... do I have to?”

Anjanette and Leonas just grinned wickedly.

* * *

Valgard was sitting in his hotel room stoically, staring out the window. The sun was setting on the beaches of Jorn. “So after all that, we still have no leads?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not, my liege,” said Lloyd. “It would appear that the local government we have met with is... less than aware of what goes on in their city. As is the press. And needless to say, we have few contacts in the underworld.”

Valgard tapped his heel against the floor impertinently. “And have you heard anything about those thieves?”

“I’m afraid not.”

Valgard frowned, he still held that one against himself. The conmen’s trail had disappeared, and nobody had seen them... or would admit to seeing them, at least. They had gone to Jorn out of frustration, to at least attempt to find one of the tomes, and hoping that would bait their enemies into showing themselves. Of course, that relied on them finding the damn thing.

“I believe that less savoury means may be necessary,” said Valgard.

“But sir,” said Lloyd. “Not that I question your judgment, but we must not cross the codes of honour and nobility in this quest. The ends do not justify the means.”

“Of course not. But if we immersed ourselves in this underworld a little, we would stand a better chance of gaining the information we need. Of course, we won’t actually do anything illegal.”

Lloyd was shining his sword idly, and his tempo increased. Still, he nodded. “I believe I understand.”

“And then afterward we can seek justice for this city,” Valgard said.

“I fear this city may be beyond saving.”

“I refuse to accept ‘beyond saving’. Now get your casual clothes, we must appear as slovenly as possible.”

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