Griffin paused at the wet linen hanging just inside the exit of the tunnel and wiped the blood off his sword. “I wouldn’t let Lady Esmera hear you say that.”
“Lady Esmera only cares about her wedding. Which she will have soon enough. I had been hoping you, as my friend, would have found a way to delay that a little for me?” Jori griped. “Perhaps given her the poison meant for my father?”
“If I only had known, I would have switched the glasses.”
Griffin laughed, but Jori didn’t.
“Sire!” Perig called, stealing the prince’s attention.
“Excellent! It’s here.” Jori clapped his hands and jogged toward the gamekeeper.
Griffin hurried after him. “What’s here?”
Jori walked backward, speaking to him. “I found a present for you in the Hinterlands.”
Perig was the third gamekeeper in the last year. He and his predecessors were all called Perig, a title coined because the king only remembered the name of his first gamekeeper, who had been dead for a decade. His head bandaged, his clothing covered in dried blood, his limp more pronounced than usual, he looked as if he’d gone into battle and barely escaped with his life.
“From the looks of Perig, I’m not sure I want it. What is it?”
“A very special draignoch.”
Griffin slowed. “Are you telling me this beast was caught in the wild?”
“Oh yes. First in a very long time. But this one . . .” Perig sounded almost giddy. “This one is different. Bigger. Stronger. Smarter!” He grew more animated with each boast, waving his three-fingered hand.
“Smarter,” Griffin laughed. “If it’s so smart, how did it end up trapped?”
“Because it stopped fighting,” Perig explained.
Griffin shook his head in disbelief. “Draignochs don’t stop fighting until they’re dead.”
“This one did,” Jori added. “Bested half a regiment. And then suddenly just stopped.”
“You witnessed this?” Griffin asked.
“I did,” Jori affirmed.
Griffin shook his head. It was impossible to believe.
“Maybe it decided it wanted to see the Walled City.” Perig laughed at his own jest in a way that made Griffin wonder if the boy had gone mad like his predecessor.
“I must go with Perig. Make sure all goes well with its transfer into its cage in the Oughtnoch,” Jori said to Griffin.
“I’ll come.” If this creature was to be his next match, and was so changed from the typical draignoch, Griffin needed to see it.
“No, no. King’s orders. He told me not thirty minutes ago that no one is to see this draignoch until its first match.” His brown eyes and his grin filled with mirth. “Besides, your cheek needs attending. See the physician.”
Griffin’s jaw set at Jori ordering him around. “My cheek will wait. I need to see that draignoch, Jori.”
Jori started walking across the bridge toward a soldier holding two saddled horses, shaking his head.
“You heard the prince, Sir Griffin!” Perig cackled. “But rest assured, we have finally found you a worthy challenge.”
Five
Maggie
The next morning, the soldiers packed up quickly, in a hurry to get home. After three long days in the wagon, I considered walking, but the last part of the journey was entirely uphill.
Xavier’s demeanor changed overnight. He exuded confidence instead of panic, giving me hope that we would pass through the gates of the Walled City without another incident.
“Tonight, I will perform before King Umbert. When he sees my power, do you know what that will mean for me? I will remain in the Walled City. And you with me. No more eating scraps and sleeping in the woods. We will have everything we ever wanted for the rest of our lives!”
I was conflicted. Tales of the luxurious Walled City reached far and wide. Its entertainments, its opportunities, its delights. Yet, from the outside, the Walled City looked like a prison.
The wall itself was forty feet tall. Forged with stone and steel. Impenetrable. Unclimbable, and I couldn’t see a single gate in or out. The city was completely hidden behind it, except for the crown where King Umbert’s fortress was perched, built on the flat rocks that sealed an ancient volcano. People said that King Umbert wanted the Hinterlands to know he was watching them, like a god from above. Others believed he built his keep on high so that no one could attack the city without him seeing them well before they reached it. Either way, it was an imposing sight.
I could smell the place too, long before we reached it. The putrid odor wafted from a wide moat of still water swarmed by flies. Parts overflowed, running down the hill we had climbed, poisoning everything in its path. All that should have been green was lifeless and brown. Neither Raleigh nor any of the other men gave notice. Xavier pinched his nose. I gagged and coughed, trying not to vomit.
“This way,” the lead rider called, changing course, following the curve of the giant wall.
We rode for another hour, circling the solid base until we came upon a field littered with northern soldiers. I’d seen them before, when Xavier and I had performed in a small village close to the moors. I recognized their green-and-blue tartan sashes worn over their heavy fur-lined cloaks. Many fires burned. Spits spun, roasting meats while men drank from large tapped kegs with plenty more to spare stacked in a pyramid. Strange. They were Northmen, and they planned to be here awhile.
A few minutes later we finally came to an entrance, a metal portcullis so heavy it felt like it took a lifetime for cranking pulleys to raise it. A foreboding wind escaped with a fierce whistle. Dorn hesitated. I didn’t blame her. I thwacked her, getting her moving. Her reluctant rattling snort did not stop until we were on the other side and there was no turning back. The entrance was only large enough for a single wagon to pass through at a time. As soon as the last soldier came through, the gate fell with a loud bang, sealing us inside.
“Is that gate the only one?” I asked Sir Raleigh.
He slowed his horse to ride beside us. “Yes.”
“And is it always closed?”
“Yes.”
“I see. What if I wanted to leave?”
Xavier grumbled beside me. “Leave? Impertinent every step of the way! I would tell Sir Raleigh to ignore your foolish questions, but I’m sure he’s learned to do just that.”
“Not at all. Best to set expectations. You simply ask, Maggie.” He smiled as if that was somehow a comfort.
“And if the answer is no? I’m trapped in here? All these people are trapped inside that monstrous wall?”
He laughed and changed the subject.
Raleigh explained that crags and cliffs separated the Bottom from the Middle, and the Middle from the Top. But that wasn’t all I noticed separating them.
In the Bottom, tiny shacks made from scrap wood served as shelters for so many they spilled out and into the road. Many of the dwellings stood in a thick layer of filthy runoff from above. The ducts carrying refuse to the moat outside the wall overflowed here too. Children slid through mud for sport on their way to answer the call of barking masters. Most looked gaunt, but not so starved as those in the South.
A blanket of black soot hovered above a large section, the bitter air from ovens heating metal. There was clanking and banging too. It was the largest smithy I’d ever seen.