In the Missing City autumn was setting in with its gales and frosts and impending cold, but the climate on Ithin’carthia’s southern foothills was semitropical and—to Linsha’s thinking—downright warm. Everywhere she looked she saw flowers trailing, vining, and clambering over rock walls and buildings. Flowering shrubs grew in pots or in yards. Flowering trees, native to the continent, bloomed in parks and gardens. Linsha saw large butterflies, something that looked like a dragonfly with iridescent wings, and small birds of brilliant hue flying among the blossoms. She had thought the Brutes were a rough, uncultured people, yet looking around this large, populous city she began to realize there was far more to them than the first impression of bloodthirsty savage. Their buildings were well made and maintained, their green spaces brimmed with gardens and walkways, prosperous markets sat at many intersections offering buyers tables of merchandise and food laid out in neat displays under canopied roofs that kept shoppers dry. Everyone, from the warriors who strutted together along the streets to the mix of laborers and human slaves who moved busily about their tasks, looked healthy and clean.
There were many large buildings whose purpose Linsha could not identify, while there were others she recognized as storehouses, shops, workshops, public houses, kitchens, livestock markets, and clothiers. Near the edge of the city she saw a large tannery and a metalworking shop. Close by was an armory and another huge complex with training fields and what looked like step pyramids and temples.
The road swept on past the barracks on its large hill then curved to the southeast and began to climb up a taller hill. Linsha tried to look ahead, but clouds and rain obscured the heights and hid the foothills in fog. Around her, the city’s buildings gave way to terraced fields and vineyards.
The girls behind her slowed and looked around with huge apprehensive eyes, but the guards would not let them dally. The group trudged on through the rain up the road to the top of the hill. Beyond the crown of the hill the farmland gave way to level grass fields cleared of all trees and undergrowth. At the higher elevation the wind blew harder, driving the rain before it.
“Look,” Callista said softly. One hand tightened around Linsha’s forearm while the other pointed toward the fields.
Linsha followed her gesture out toward the far edges of the fields, out into the wind and the pouring rain, and felt a chill grip her heart. If the ships were poised and ready to sail toward Ansalon, certainly there would be warriors to man them. Unit after unit, the ekwullik and the larger dekullik, of Tarmaks trained and marched on the grassy fields, oblivious to the weather that stormed around them.
“There must be thousands out there,” Callista whispered.
“At least,” Linsha grated. “See there? They have cavalry, too. They weren’t very good on horseback the first time they came to the Plains, but they’re learning. Gods, look at that maneuver. They’re almost as good as the Plains tribes.”
Linsha would have stood in the rain and watched the distant army in its training, but the guards moved her along with the others, and Linsha did not argue. They rounded another curve in the road and saw for the first time the large complex of buildings sprawled on the top of the high promontory that Linsha had seen from the ship. Girdled by high walls, it looked very imposing and very secure.
“The Emperor’s palace,” a guard said to her in rough Common. “You will stay here. In the Akeelawasee.”
“The A… keela…” She tried to repeat the unfamiliar word. “Place of—?”
“The Chosen Ones,” the guard answered.
The Chosen Ones? Linsha did not like the sound of that. Chosen for what?
The road leveled out and led straight and true to a towering gateway that opened through the first high wall and into a courtyard lined with guards. From the court, walkways led through arches in numerous directions to stables, barracks, storehouses, armories, and the outer service buildings of the palace. The main road continued across the courtyard between a row of menacing statues that resembled lions in various poses of attack. They had been carved from polished sandstone, and they glowered down on passersby. Beyond the lions the roadway passed through a second wall and timbered passage and into a second court where more guards stood in silent vigilance and more pathways guided one to other parts of the palace. Finally a third wall rose before the women, and they were led into the largest and most impressive square of any palace Linsha had ever seen.
The square spread out one hundred feet on both sides of the entrance to high walls painted a dazzling white and to impressive buildings whose purpose Linsha could only guess. A broad flight of stairs led down to the cobbled square that stretched about two hundred yards ahead, past a large statue, to the foot of a second stone staircase that climbed with dignified grace to a magnificent five-storied hall. The hall had been painted a brilliant blue and its numerous columns were red. Its two-tiered roof and soaring peaks gleamed gold even in the stormy light of the fading day.
There was no sign of anyone in the square until a Tarmak guard called a question. It was answered by another voice somewhere close by. A Tarmak warrior stepped out of the shadows of the wall and gestured to another who stepped out of his place and opened a large door in the wall. Linsha realized with a start there were probably dozens of warriors stationed silently in the corners, doorways, and arches that led out of the square. The hushed group of wet women began to move reluctantly toward the door, driven on by their guards. Linsha and Callista moved after them.
The guard who had spoken to her earlier extended his spear and blocked her way. “Drathkin’kela. You do not go there. You-” he pointed to Callista and herself-“You go to Akeelawasee.”
“Yes,” Linsha said crossly. “You said that earlier. Isn’t that where they’re going?”
He laughed a deep rumble of enjoyment. “Those? They are slaves. Tribute from the Akkad-Dar to the Emperor. Our glorious emperor will take them himself. If any survive, he may keep them or give them to his guards.”
Linsha’s brows lowered. “What do you mean ‘if any survive?’ ”
The Tarmak made a sharp sound of derision. “Human womans are too small. Fragile. The Emperor is a powerful warrior. He is not… gentle.”
Linsha looked disgusted. “He is not a lightweight either.”
“Poor things,” Callista said softly, her large eyes filled with sympathy for the women disappearing through the door. Her hand tightened even more on Linsha’s arm.
“This way.” The guard pointed his spear toward the hall on the far side of the square. Taking the lead, he walked across the smooth cobbles, fully expecting the two women to follow.
Linsha took one last look at the women from the Missing City then followed him, her arm steady under Callista’s apprehensive grip.
Halfway across the square they came to a series of narrow bridges that spanned a stone-laid waterway where a river had been diverted to flow through the square in a gentle arc. The effect was serene and added a balancing element to the large open stone space. It also provided an excellent way to slow down an enemy trying to attack across the square. Linsha wondered what other tricks the Tarmaks had disguised in this place.
As they walked across the remaining distance to the stairs at the great hall, Linsha took a closer look at the statue posed at the foot of the stairs, then she took a second look. Although the artist’s execution and interpretation of his subject had been fanciful and a little too exotic, the basic shape was all too familiar. The statue was of a dragon that stood crouched protectively, one taloned foot upraised and its toothy mouth open in a snarl. Its wings were half furled; its cold eyes stared malevolently at passersby.
Linsha stopped at its feet and looked at the head ten feet above her. “I didn’t know this land had dragons.”