James walked among the body guards now. He had a hood lowered over his head in pretence of trying to hide his distinctive hair, but in reality he'd changed its colour. The mercenaries almost to a one walked on the opposite side of the carriage, though he noticed Jonas eyeing him from time to time. His demon eye could sense magic, so James wasn't surprised he could sense what he'd done to his hair.
They crested a hill, yet one more in a line of unending ascents. James was just explaining to Hans what he ought to say to the black smith to have him make them a standard barbell with adjustable weights when the city came into view.
It was stunning. He'd thought so from the descriptions in the book, but minor descriptions couldn't do the place justice. It was seated on a number of uneven hills, with the highest hosting the most magnificent white castle.
The city was at least three times as huge as his father's, and the palace put his own house to shame, with the artful sculptures he could see even from this distance. The city was ten times the size of Uluth town.
It must have had about three town centers. And well maintained trees and shrubs dotted the hills, sometimes forming barriers between homes. The imbalance, where some neighborhoods were crowded and others so spaced also had an inexplicable appeal, not to mention the clear divide between social ranks.
From where he stood, the noble district with its light painted houses and well spaced was very noticeable. He couldn't see the slums so clearly, but he knew they were there, from some of the smells wafting to their noses as they descended the hill.
In some places the roads had been obscured by surrounding trees, except around the places he'd thought of as town squares where many roads seemed to intersect. One had been almost newly cobbled, shining white and sparsely populated.
Another had been in a state of unimaginable decay, and even more disdained, but the others had been filled with crowds, the people moving this way and that and appearing as no more than just insects from his vantage point.
Knock! "The capital has been sighted, my lord." he tried for a gruff voice.
Nino's sheepish smile told him it hadn't worked. He shrugged as if to say, 'worth a try.'
And then they were at the end of a line of bodies waiting their turn to enter the gates. The city pulsed, sounds of varying natures coming together to create an air of busyness. The smells were pleasing and not pleasing at the same time, the smells of foods sold road side mixed with those of metals being worked and of sweaty bodies and floral products and sewage and industrial smoke.
It filled him with a sense of frisson, one he couldn't explain, and a sense of trepidation too. It was happening. It felt so surreal. He'd made a choice, and now the curtain was finally raising on the play.
"We aren't supposed to wait in line, you know. In fact, there should be a gate for only nobles over yonder," Talia pointed to the East.
There didn't seem to be anything, but it wasn't like he could see around curves. Being just next to it, the wall seemed titan.
"You've never used the gate yourself?"
Talia shrugged. "First time I'm escorting a noble of your calibre. What about you, you should have used it hundreds of times before?"
James looked around to make sure no one had happened to over hear the misplaced comment, then gestured to the drivers to follow the route Talia had indicated.
"I never really got out of my carriage on those trips, so I wouldn't know a thing. Besides, only the highest ranked nobles can get through those gates at times when they are busy."
"I don't understand."
James shrugged. "When my father was just a Count, even viscount houses and some lower were treated better than we were."
She didn't reply, instead letting her gaze rake over the wall as they moved about it. She was probably imagining the day she would be an officer in an army laying siege to this place.
"Lord James Halden, son of the Duke Halden of the North."
"Son of the Duke, eh?" the guard said with a hint of a sneer.
It was hard to blame him. The size of the carriage, and the number of guards, not to mention their ruffian like appearance. In fact, James was sure he looked worst of the group. He'd borrowed the cloak from Ron, and had Aric's half assed bow slung over a shoulder. The cloak was so worn, it had lost its brown in favour of white-ish in places, and his soft shirt peeked through in others.
Talia was bristling from where the second guard was running his eyes over her body with unabashed interest. Something welled up deep in James belly, and he stepped forward before he knew what he was doing. A hand fell on his forearm, stopping him from going any further.
When he turned to his left, Rob was there, eyeing him fiercely. On his left, he held Aric with a crab like grip. Talon moved to cover them from view, folding his hands over his chest and glaring at the guards.
"Listen, sir," Talia's tone was low, hard. "Are you trying to contest the young master's entry. Because if so I only need learn your name and you could lose your position."
The man scoffed. "Its fine. Don't get your panties in a twist. We can't let just anyone through the gate, I'm sure you understand."
"He is the son of a Duke."
"Yeah, a bloody money Duke," he said in a loud grumble.
Talia's hand was on the hilt of her sword. James pulled his hand from Rob's, met the other man's eyes, showed him that he was in control. Rob nodded, his reluctance evident. Even that James was in control, he couldn't help but glare at the second guard, who was leering still.
'For some reason, I want to kill the damn bastard!'
"Here," he said instead, handing the guard incharge a ring. "The Duke's seal. Will you let us through now?"
The guard checked the carriage. There were supposed to be only two people in there, and James caught a strain of white in his vision's periphery. There was a whiff of alcohol, and was that some kind of leafy smoke. He didn't even want to hear what rumours would be making the rounds that night.
"Your young master is indisposed. How about you guys pay the toll before—"
"And how's about we gut all of you and leave your bloody corpses for the craws? In case that didn't get through your thick head, no! we are not going to bribe you!"
The last was said in a shout, and the second guard snapped out of his depraved revelry. The guards left in the guard house were scrambling about to open the gate. The captain was red in the face, his teeth bared.
"Careful, there captain. Your inner glutton is showing."
He retrieved his father's second ring, and when the gates were opened, joined his party in entering the bustling city.
The road they were on was well cobbled and wide to boot, but it was less crowded than he imagined the inside of the city would be. Traffic flowed in two directions, and there were sidewalks for pedestrians.
The road winded through one hill, the houses here not so spaced. Then they were in a busy market, traders trying to catch their attention, here a man bargained seriously with a trader, there a trader raised his silk woven cloth and called out prices.
A group of men sat around a table and played dice and chewed grass like cattle, and when they smiled, their teeth were yellow or black at times and their gums were rotting. A woman wore a sleeveless shirt and leaned against a wall, her muscled and tattoed arms crossed over her chest. She wore her knives openly on her person. She wasn't the only one.
And some others were far more subtle. A trader shouted his wares, and although his voice boomed, James could see that his heart was more set on observing everyone going through the market. A woman walked past him, and the way her hooded body seemed to list towards him seemed suspicious.
There were children playing around between stalls, chasing each other around. Then one collided with a distracted teenage boy. James saw it, but the boy only started to lament when he'd moved over two blocks away from the scene. Not a place to lose your wits for even a second, this city.
James had thought it would take longer to reach the noble district, but it seemed the noble gate was called that for a reason. He hadn't wanted the passengers to leave before he was sure no one was watching, so he'd told them to leave once the carriage had been well packed in the Halden residence in the capital.
It was a good house, though only two stories and a good distance from the palace. They could have afforded better, but at the time they had been low ranking, so they'd bought what was acceptable. James thought that through the generations, the Halden had formed a bond with the house, and now wouldn't abandon it for those better placed in the city. Which was good, because he thought this small house obscured from all but direct frontal view by surrounding pines was the perfect place to do the kind of stuff he planned to do.
Talia dismissed the servants who'd come to escort him inside, only handing them the luggage to take up the stairs. It smelled of some unsavoury vegetation.
"I don't understand the need for this subterfuge," Talia commented as the two stowaways left their patch.
"Politics," said both James and Stan at the same time.
James nodded in acknowledgement. "I wish you guys well. I hope you are sure to not attract any attention as you head out."
The sun was now a half red ball of light in the distance, and the shadows were starting to fade.
"I still don't understand it," Stan Raven commented.
James didn't care. He was already turning to leave.
"Understand what?" Delia asked.
"You said he was not a bad person. But he is not good either. Yet if he was not a bad person, then why won't he aid us further. He knows about the revolution. He said so himself. This is negligence, which I can in no way condon as good. There is no neutral. It is either good or bad."
"Stan?!" Delia cried, alarmed.
James turned to them, a slow arc, and frowned in something resembling disappointment, or so he hoped.
"How noble of you? So it's my way or the wrong way, isn't it? You know, that right there is why I don't think we can be allies.
"Think about what you just said. Good or bad? From their perspective, at least those members who are in the revolution for good reasons, we are the bad people. And seeing you ready to fight your own family to get power, I totally understand their perspective."
"What are you talking about?" Stan asked.
"Your goals. You both have your own reasons for going after them, but I have no doubt they are all innately selfish. I am a selfish person as well, so I wonder what kind of alliance we'd form, everyone trying to achieve their own ends?"
"No, what were you saying about my family? You don't know them—"
"You can justify yourself however you see fit," James waved as he walked out. "Truth is, if you were a half decent person you'd just walk away from it, like me. I'm not going to inherit, but I'm doing alright."