Chapter 20

Dawn came earlier than Thane would have liked. Patrols were a daily part of a Dragon Rider's life. Oftentimes, they lasted for days, possibly weeks depending on how many cities were to be visited. Their lack of numbers forced most riders to be constantly on the go. Riders stationed at the same post were only ever guaranteed to see each other at the bi-monthly meetings that were held in each outpost. Today, however, the mission was a bit less strenuous. Nortavog and Stenfeon would be accompanying them so that the rookies could learn the ropes of patrol. Since this would be Thane's first assignment, they would only be out for a day, scouting in Dras-Leona.

To take full advantage of Thane's unknown status, it had been agreed that he and Evaríncel would land out of sight of the city and he would enter on foot. Nortavog was a recognized quantity. Even if urgals were now a common enough sight within the city walls, she had been through the city enough times where most residents knew her by sight. Thane, on the other hand, could slip beneath the radar and gather information that would never find its way to her ears. His casual, attire and travel-stained cloak would complete the image he was trying to achieve. The only thing that could possibly derail the plan was Kveykva. A rider was not permitted to go anywhere without their sword, so the white blade would be covered by a dark, leather sheath and the pommel would be overlain with a metal cast. All things considered, it looked like a shoddy, sell-sword's blade.

As Thane and Evaríncel followed in the shadow of the pink dragon, Nortavog quickly filled them in as to the state of affairs in Dras-Leona. In the void caused by the disbanding of the blood-priests, several different religions had sprung up within the city. It was now dominated by a cult devoted to a deity they called Razin, the Golden God of fire and the sun. They believed that it was he who sent Eragon and Saphira to bring light into the darkness of Dras Leona, and they saw Dragon Riders as the messengers of their god. The riders had intentionally avoided perpetuating this idea, however, the cult had done a great deal of work in regards to helping the poor and promoting peace between the races, so the Riders had elected not to disband them.

Kalani Cianthral was the reigning governor of Dras Leona. Despite a barbed tongue and slightly acidic personality, the Riders had found her to be a decisive and progressive ruler. Trade through the region had flourished under her rule, and she had established a major art school within the bounds of the city. Dras Leona was now one of the largest exporters of blown glass in Alagaësia. Kalani had also ruthlessly culled her advisors and city officials, casting out those she felt were not up to the task of ruling such a great city. "Still," Nortavog amended, "she is not one to surround herself with flatterers either. She prefers men and women with brains of their own. At the very least, she recognizes that the city is too large for her to run on her own."

The sun was well into the sky when the white dragon broke away from his pink counterpart. Flaring his wings, Evaríncel settled on the bank of Leona Lake. His massive claws sank into the soft ground as he turned his head, watching as Thane dismounted.

"I envy you this chance. I haven't seen such a city since I was newly hatched."

You can see through my eyes. Either way, judging from what they've told us, there isn't much room in the city for a dragon. Stenfeon can't really leave the governor's compound.

The white wings rustled in annoyance and a puff of smoke drifted from dilated nostrils. "Never before in my life have I wished that I were smaller."

Thane put a gentle hand on the armored forehead. There will be plenty of cities. We have a lifetime ahead of us.

"Several lifetimes if we are speaking in human years." The brief flash of humor put a smile on Thane's face and he withdrew his hand. Drawing the cloak from his pack, he slung it around his shoulders, fastening it neatly.

Will you be alright until I return?

"Of course." The dragon strode a ways up the bank, finding a patch of grass to lie down in. "The rest will likely do me good." Closing his eyes with a boney snick, he added, "Do not hesitate to call me if you find yourself in danger. Narrow streets or no, I will come and find you."

I know you will. Turning from his partner, Thane moved away from the bank, toward one of the less-traveled roads that ran toward the city. The main paths entered Dras Leona from completely different directions, running from Bellatona and Illrea respectively. Thane had underestimated how much of his fitness he had lost during the flight back to Alagaësia. After only an hour of walking, his legs were sore and cramping. The trail he followed was really nothing more than a gap in the endless sea of grasses. Off to his right, he could see the glistening surface of Leona Lake, but he lost sight of his dragon within the first twenty minutes of walking.

It was noon before the city finally came into sight on the horizon. The high, black walls gleamed in the sunlight, sheer, imposing stone that towered into the sky. There were only three gates into the city, each barred by massive, metal-and-wood doors. He could see one such door ahead of him. The Northern Gate was less frequented than the Eastern or Southern Gates. Still, he could see what looked to be a small line of ants assembled on the path ahead. These would be travelers seeking entrance to the city. Every traveler would have to state their business and declare any goods they had brought to sell. The guards would take note of the number of travelers entering the city and compile the information in the central archives. Dras Leona was one of the only cities that kept a running ledger regarding who was in the city at any given time. It was another reason that the city was so successful.

It was another hour before Thane joined the line waiting to enter the city. He settled himself behind a father with two, young sons. Each of them had a bundle slung across their back. Judging from the faint chinking sound that emanated from the packs when they walked, Thane guessed that they were carried some small instruments: knives perhaps, or small farming tools. During the meal the previous night, Tarehlak had told him that, in order to make some money, most Dragon Riders picked up a small crafting skill and sold their wares where they could. The dwarf rider, using a small forge he had fashioned for himself, made small trinkets, dwarven puzzle-boxes and brain teasing links of metal, that he sold through a certain merchant in Dras Leona. In what little spare time she had, Nortavog wove fabrics after the fashion of her people. It would behoove him, Thane realized, to pick up such a craft himself. He had some skill at wood-working. He had often amused himself in Vrenbana by creating small, wooden carvings to decorate his room. It would be something to look into.

Then he was at the gate. The family in front of him had revealed to the guard that they were indeed selling kitchen and hunting knives. Thane made a mental note to find where they were selling their wares. He had an 8-inch hunting knife that he kept in a sheath near the base of his spine. However, he had been searching for a smaller knife to accompany it. He would also need to find a wood-carving knife if he intended on making a go of his carving idea. As the man and his children tramped through the gate, into the city, the four guards who waited outside turned their attention to Thane.

"Name?"

Pasting a friendly smile on his face, Thane answered, "My name is Thane, if it pleases you. I'd give you a last name, but I'm afraid I have none to offer."

Looking as if he couldn't have cared less, the guard continued, "State your business."

"I'm entering the city in search of goods to purchase. I need food, and I'm seeking a pair of good knives. Might you know where I could find some?"

The second guard, who held a pike, answered this time. "It depends what you're looking for. If it's hunting knives you seek, you'll want to visit Breol's shop in the southern quadrant. For just about everything else, I'd go to Mercia's. She's over in the western quadrant." The guard paused for a moment, then added, "Just don't go using any knives to make trouble. We don't tolerate trouble makers in Dras Leona."

Thane nodded, flashing another smile as the first guard waved him through. It was clear that conversation was not high on the list of priorities for a gate-guard. Not that it surprising. I expect it would slow down how quickly they can get people into the city. "I will remember that. Thank you friend." The guard dipped his head in acknowledgement as Thane strode beneath the gate, emerging, for the first time, into the city of Dras Leona.

Thane had seen Dras-Leona in several fairths during his time in Vrenbana, however, the city he now entered was much nicer than the hovel shown in the pictures. Almost every building in the city was composed of the same, white stone. It couldn't have been marble, for to build this much out of such an expensive material would have cost an unimaginable amount of money. Still, whatever stone they were using, it definitely looked like marble. The few buildings that weren't made of this white stone were made of a different, brown-ish black material. Almost all of these were located near the outer walls.

This was where most new shopkeepers started out. Unless you had enough money to purchase a shop in the inner areas, you had to start out renting a building on the outskirts of the city. If the city found your shop to be successful, you could apply to purchase a building closer to the interior of the city. It was an ingenious method of keeping the area closest to the governor's mansion as wealthy as possible. Only the most well-reputed and successful shops were allowed to be housed closest to the palace. As wealthier shops could afford nicer facades and could hold higher-end merchandise, this meant that the areas of the city directly surrounding the mansion were the most splendid and well-maintained.

Because some of the streets were so tight, the citizens had come up with an ingenious method for denoting different types of buildings. The outer walls of the shops that sold merchandise were decorated with green stone. Places that specialized in lending money had yellow stones set into the wall. Shops specializing in food boasted red stone. Inns and taverns were denoted by black stone. The lower-class shops had only a basic pattern near the roof, while more affluent shops had large, sprawling mosaics. It was also a fairly reliable way to predict the prices each store would charge for their goods. A shop with a more basic design would have lower prices, but also lower quality merchandise. You could expect to pay at least 50% more in a shop with a more elaborate design.

More than anything else, it was the sheer volume of people in the cramped streets that shocked him. He was constantly being jostled. People surged around him, bumping him at every turn. The streets were only wide enough for three people to walk abreast. What few open courtyards he came across were often choked with a group of people standing around a single individual, usually ranting loudly about one of the various religions that thrived within the city. He wandered around the western quadrant for nearly an hour before he finally caught sight of the sign he was looking for. Mercia's shop, which he had learned from a street vendor only after purchasing a small honey roll, was called Double-Edged, and was marked by a sign shaped like a two-headed battle axe.

Thane was halfway across the courtyard, when someone's shoulder slammed into his. Years of training kicked in to keep him from falling, instead prompting him to swivel his hips to face what his body perceived as an attacker. To his surprise, he found himself face to face with a man in a dark, purple robe. He was flanked by two similarly dressed companions, one a man and the other a woman. Currently, he was glaring furiously at Thane.

"Watch where you're going. Can't you see we're in a hurry on the governor's business?"

"Does that give you permission to run over whomever you like?" The words were out before Thane had could stop them. As a rider, he was used to being treated respectfully, if not reverently in some cases. However, even had he not been a rider, such an open display of hostility and rudeness would have provoked a similar response.

A flush of color rose in the man's cheeks as his female companion broke in. "Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Savant Realnor of the Magician's Guild, one of the advisors to the Governor." Thane knew that the title of Savant was only given to a select group of mages in each branch of the guild. It indicated many years of scholarly study and an aptitude for magic beyond what was normally expected of magicians. When Thane continued to look unimpressed, the woman's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You seem to lack the proper respect for magicians. You wouldn't be a Sagasir, would you?"

Thane blinked, "A what?"

"Sagasir." The woman sneered. "An unregistered magic user. In these parts, if you can use magic, you have to be registered with the Guild. Failure to register can result in some very . . . unpleasant consequences."

Thane had to choke back a response to the tone of her words. He was undercover here. Getting into a fight would reveal his identity, and also likely create trouble for the Riders. Drawing in a deep breath, he lowered his eyes. "I am no Sagasar." He intentionally mangled the word, hoping to underline his ignorance. The ploy worked.

"It's Sagasir." The woman snorted, rolling her eyes. "Get out of our way. We have more important things to attend to than the education of vagabonds."

The leader, however, did not seem completely convinced. Thane felt the intense gaze upon him for several more seconds. Though he dared not lift his eyes to meet the man's gaze, he could almost sense the scrutiny he was under. Luckily, it seemed they really did have more pressing matters to attend to. After a few seconds, all three magicians brushed past him and made their way down the street. The crowd parted around them. Every man, woman, and child pulled back against the wall to leave a circle of open space around the three, as if they carried some contagious disease. A frown creased Thane's forehead as he watched them go. He had always chalked up the Dragon Riders' dislike of the Magicians Guild to the fact that the Riders were angry they couldn't police the entire territory, as they once had. Now, however, it seemed that those feelings might have had a totally different basis.

The words of his formal mentor echoed in his mind. Ah child, you think the world exists in black and white, but it is rarely so. Good and evil, though they seem clear-cut, are not nearly so easy to distinguish. There are many shades of gray, some darker than others. And it is those grays they we Dragon Riders fear most.