quick.
Caina wondered what dangers she had failed to foresee. Given the many dangers she did foresee, it hardly seemed necessary to look for new ones.
She rolled out of her cot and stood, the worn floorboards cold against her bare feet. This particular safe house was a rented room in the Tower Quarter, not far from the Teskilati headquarters in the grim fortress of the Crows’ Tower. It was a risk, sleeping so close to the Crows’ Tower, but the widow Talisla who owned the house owed Caina a great many favors. Though perhaps Caina’s presence here put Talisla and the other tenants at risk.
Caina stared at the wall for a moment. Perhaps it was good she was leaving the city to find the Tomb of Kharnaces. No one else would be in danger because of her. Of course, the people of Istarinmul would still be in danger. Callatas would continue working towards the Apotheosis …
She closed her eyes, trying to stop the guilty spiral of her thoughts. Even if Caina had never come to Istarinmul, the city’s people would still have been in danger. If she wanted to defeat the danger, if she wanted to prevent the Apotheosis and end the civil war, the best way was to find the Staff and the Seal of Iramis and prevent Callatas from ever claiming them.
Best to get started, then.
Caina worked through her unarmed forms for an hour, both to clear her mind and to keep the movements fresh upon her muscles and memory. They had saved her life more than once, and she moved through the middle block and the low kick, the high strike and the leg sweep and a dozen other movements over and over again until her breath came hard and ragged, her arms and legs trembling with fatigue.
Once she finished, she felt better. Exercise always had that effect. Caina cleaned away the sweat and dressed in her disguise for the day. While wearing the garb of a courier for the Padishah she had killed a Teskilati agent and three Umbarian Silent Hunters, so today she dressed as an Anshani merchant in a patterned red and blue robe, a turban upon her head, a scimitar and her ghostsilver dagger at her belt, a fake beard and some makeup making her look both male and twenty years older. Since coming to Istarinmul, she had spent far more time dressed as a man than as a woman. The disguises were useful, but she was getting desperately tired of dressing as a man. She wanted to put on a nice dress, wanted to put on earrings and jewelry.
Caina was honest enough with herself to admit that she wanted Kylon to see her like that.
That was another tangle of emotion she couldn’t sort out right now, so she pushed it aside, checked her disguise one last time, and left the rented room. Once a brief glance revealed no Teskilati agents or Kindred assassins lurking in the street, Caina set out across the city.
It was time to visit a tavern she had burned down.
###
Granted, Caina hadn’t intended to burn down the Shahenshah’s Seat. And to be fair, the Sifter had been at least partially responsible.
Caina walked through the Bazaar of the Southern Road in the Anshani Quarter, the southernmost edge of the city itself. The Great Southern Road, the main caravan route to Anshan and Cyrica, began at Istarinmul’s southern gate. Consequently the Bazaar was one of the largest in the city, and perhaps one of the largest in the world, full of men from a dozen nations buying and selling every conceivable manner of merchandise. The sprawling caravanserai outside the walls usually held thirty or forty merchant caravans at once, some preparing to depart for Anshan or Istarish Cyrica, others unloading their goods to sell in the Bazaar.
At least, the Bazaar usually held that many caravans. Now it was half-empty. The rumors of war in the south had scared off many merchants. Strabane’s Kaltari warriors had been raiding the Brotherhood’s slave caravans, adding the freed slaves to their ranks, and numerous tribesmen had decided to take advantage of the chaos by going bandit.
Caina wondered what dangers she had failed to foresee. Given the many dangers she did foresee, it hardly seemed necessary to look for new ones.
She rolled out of her cot and stood, the worn floorboards cold against her bare feet. This particular safe house was a rented room in the Tower Quarter, not far from the Teskilati headquarters in the grim fortress of the Crows’ Tower. It was a risk, sleeping so close to the Crows’ Tower, but the widow Talisla who owned the house owed Caina a great many favors. Though perhaps Caina’s presence here put Talisla and the other tenants at risk.
Caina stared at the wall for a moment. Perhaps it was good she was leaving the city to find the Tomb of Kharnaces. No one else would be in danger because of her. Of course, the people of Istarinmul would still be in danger. Callatas would continue working towards the Apotheosis …
She closed her eyes, trying to stop the guilty spiral of her thoughts. Even if Caina had never come to Istarinmul, the city’s people would still have been in danger. If she wanted to defeat the danger, if she wanted to prevent the Apotheosis and end the civil war, the best way was to find the Staff and the Seal of Iramis and prevent Callatas from ever claiming them.
Best to get started, then.
Caina worked through her unarmed forms for an hour, both to clear her mind and to keep the movements fresh upon her muscles and memory. They had saved her life more than once, and she moved through the middle block and the low kick, the high strike and the leg sweep and a dozen other movements over and over again until her breath came hard and ragged, her arms and legs trembling with fatigue.
Once she finished, she felt better. Exercise always had that effect. Caina cleaned away the sweat and dressed in her disguise for the day. While wearing the garb of a courier for the Padishah she had killed a Teskilati agent and three Umbarian Silent Hunters, so today she dressed as an Anshani merchant in a patterned red and blue robe, a turban upon her head, a scimitar and her ghostsilver dagger at her belt, a fake beard and some makeup making her look both male and twenty years older. Since coming to Istarinmul, she had spent far more time dressed as a man than as a woman. The disguises were useful, but she was getting desperately tired of dressing as a man. She wanted to put on a nice dress, wanted to put on earrings and jewelry.
Caina was honest enough with herself to admit that she wanted Kylon to see her like that.
That was another tangle of emotion she couldn’t sort out right now, so she pushed it aside, checked her disguise one last time, and left the rented room. Once a brief glance revealed no Teskilati agents or Kindred assassins lurking in the street, Caina set out across the city.
It was time to visit a tavern she had burned down.
###
Granted, Caina hadn’t intended to burn down the Shahenshah’s Seat. And to be fair, the Sifter had been at least partially responsible.
Caina walked through the Bazaar of the Southern Road in the Anshani Quarter, the southernmost edge of the city itself. The Great Southern Road, the main caravan route to Anshan and Cyrica, began at Istarinmul’s southern gate. Consequently the Bazaar was one of the largest in the city, and perhaps one of the largest in the world, full of men from a dozen nations buying and selling every conceivable manner of merchandise. The sprawling caravanserai outside the walls usually held thirty or forty merchant caravans at once, some preparing to depart for Anshan or Istarish Cyrica, others unloading their goods to sell in the Bazaar.
At least, the Bazaar usually held that many caravans. Now it was half-empty. The rumors of war in the south had scared off many merchants. Strabane’s Kaltari warriors had been raiding the Brotherhood’s slave caravans, adding the freed slaves to their ranks, and numerous tribesmen had decided to take advantage of the chaos by going bandit.
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