Ashok went back into the main chamber to look around. The room was finely appointed and centered about the table, which was heaped in food and wine. Soft-cushioned furniture was everywhere, and several shadar-kai lounged on them, drinking wine and eating off platters.
A man took a handful of wrinkled fruit Ashok didn’t recognize off a plate and fed it piece by piece to the woman sitting across from him. Across the room, another man stood on his toes, blindfolded, his arms tied in front of him, while a woman drew a dagger blade lightly across his bare back and buttocks. The blade looked so sharp that if the man so much as twitched he would be sliced open.
All the shadar-kai were nude, with the exception of the man Vedoran was speaking to, who wore a pair of breeches and a sword tied with a sash to his waist.
Ashok turned slowly about the room, unable to credit his eyes with what he saw. The nakedness shocked him, although the shadar-kai were not over-burdened by modesty. Rather it was the complete lack of defense that disturbed Ashok. The men and women wore no armor, and he saw no weapons-save the woman’s dagger-ready to hand in case an encounter turned into an attack. The utter trust of the communal atmosphere staggered him.
There were other doors off the chamber-ones that did not lead to the open air but to more private spaces. Those curtained off rooms held other couples. Ashok watched their nude outlines through the thin curtains and could hear them speaking in low, intimate tones to each other.
“That’s Vedoran’s master,” Cree said, breaking into Ashok’s thoughts. He pointed to the man seated at the table. “Karthan-good warrior, fair trader. They’re not bad for Blites.”
“Blites?” Ashok said. “Skagi called me that before.”
For a breath Cree seemed taken aback. “That’s right,” he said. “I’d forgotten. But it’s nothing to you, is it? I’m talking about the sellswords. But don’t let any of them hear you call them Blites-they’ll make you pay for it.”
“Why are they called that?” Ashok asked.
“Blites don’t worship Tempus,” Cree said. “That’s why Vedoran’s only ‘guesting’ with us. He can’t hold rank, can’t serve the city in any official way.”
“I don’t understand,” Ashok said. “Your leader claimed you would be rewarded for fighting for Ikemmu.”
“That’s true,” Cree said. “And the sellswords are paid well for their work. But Uwan wants something greater for Ikemmu’s military. He thinks the defenders of the city should be united by a strong god, and who better to understand the inner battles of the shadar-kai than the warrior god?”
Vedoran and the man finished speaking. Vedoran bowed and came over to them. A man came through one of the curtained doorways and nodded when he saw Cree. Cree grinned and went to greet the man. The two of them spoke for a breath or two, then Cree followed the man behind the curtain.
“We may as well go on,” Vedoran said. “They’ve already found their amusements.”
Ashok saw that Skagi and Chanoch had found partners, too, and were so engrossed in their own conversations, it was as if Ashok and Vedoran didn’t exist.
“What of you?” Ashok asked.
Vedoran shrugged. “I seek other enjoyments,” he said, his eyes glinting. “And I promised to show you the Span.”
Curious, Ashok nodded to the stair. “Lead on,” he said.
“Not that way,” Vedoran said. “We’ll take the shorter route.”
He led them past the curtained doorways-Ashok caught hints of scented oils in the fabrics-and turned down one of the short corridors ending in an open archway. Vedoran nodded to the guard that stood at the entry and walked out on the ledge.
At a hundred feet up, the wind whipped their cloaks. Ashok walked to the edge of the ledge and looked down. He could see the market, the people, and the colors swirling together like a spilled stew. They stood adjacent to the canyon wall, a jagged slope that curved above them, blocking out most of the light. Somewhere behind them unseen, the waterfall spilled behind Tower Makthar. The wind carried the damp across the space into their faces. Twin lanterns hung from poles near the archway, and the light reflecting off the cavern wall cast eldritch shadows all around them. But for the wind, there was silence.
For a long breath, neither of them spoke. Ashok stood at the edge of the abyss, an observer, a part of the throng below and yet removed from them.
“You feel in control now, don’t you?” Vedoran said from behind him.
Ashok glanced back at the shadar-kai. Beyond him, the guard stood silent, watching them.
Vedoran followed his gaze. He lowered his voice. “Ask him to step back into the tower,” he said.
Confused, Ashok said nothing. He thought the man was playing with him, but the shadar-kai’s face was an unreadable mask. He stared past Ashok into the abyss, waiting.
Was it another challenge? Ashok wondered. He took a step toward the guard and nodded in greeting. The guard returned the gesture.
“Would you leave us for a time?” he asked, in a tone of respect.
Without speaking, the guard turned and went back inside the tower.
Alone on the ledge, Vedoran motioned Ashok to join him at the edge. “Well done,” he said.
“Why didn’t you ask him?” Ashok said.
“Because he knows I’m a Blite,” Vedoran said. A lazy smile spread across his face, but his eyes were hard. “He believes his god Tempus is better than any other, and that makes him think he’s better than me. Knowing that, I’ll be damned if I’m going to ask him for any favors. But he doesn’t know what your rank is yet, so I thought I could use you to my advantage. I was right. It feels good though, doesn’t it?”
“What?” asked Ashok.
“Being in control again,” replied Vedoran, He stood with the toes of his boots over the ledge, dipped his head back, and closed his eyes. “Ironic, isn’t it?” he said. “That to feel this centered, you have to stand on the edge of falling.”
His body swayed from side to side. Watching him, Ashok’s palms began to sweat. The vicarious fear beat a pulse in his blood. Vedoran seemed completely in control and at ease, yet he must know that Ashok could step forward in a breath and push him from the ledge. Ashok’s breath quickened. He stepped up to the ledge beside Vedoran, tipping his head forward instead of back. He didn’t close his eyes but stared down the canyon, the water beads brushing his face.
If he listened closely, he could hear the soft babble of voices drifting up on the wind. By the time they reached his ears they were too insubstantial to be words, but the murmur itself was rhythmic and soothing. The vibration hummed against his skin.
“Is this the Span?” Ashok asked.
“The bridges,” Vedoran said, “between Pyton and Hevalor. There are three of them. The highest is ten feet below us.”
Ashok looked, and he remembered the portrait in Uwan’s chamber. But he didn’t see the bridges.
“They were built of the same material as the tower, but altered to blend in with the canyon wall,” Vedoran said.
“If enemies penetrated one tower,” Ashok said, “they wouldn’t have immediate access to the other.”
“Precisely,” Vedoran said. “We often teleport from level to level via these archways, but the towers are too far apart to teleport between them.”
Everything about the city had been planned for defense, Ashok thought. Besieging Ikemmu would be a nightmare for any attacking force.
“Are you ready?” Vedoran asked.
Ashok looked at him. “For what?” he replied, though he thought he knew.
Instead of answering, Vedoran stepped off the ledge. He dropped, his black cloak billowing behind him, and landed in a crouch ten feet below Ashok. He stood, turned, and looked up at Ashok with that same lazy smile. He walked forward a few steps, seemingly treading on air.
Ashok’s heart beat furiously against his breastbone. His legs quivered, aching for the jump. He took a moment to enjoy the sensations: the vertigo, the heat in his blood, the tense muscles poised for that instant of gratification when he stepped off the edge.