Dormia (19 page)

Little did they realize that they had landed in the old Slave District of Barsh-yin-Binder, which was without question the poorest and most dangerous part of that ill-fated city. Rats were everywhere, scampering beneath their feet and nibbling at their boots. Whimpering old men and women dressed in rags limped past. Several small fires burned in partially destroyed buildings. The smell of rotting food wafted through the air.
And far down the street, several wild dogs were fighting over the carcass of a dead horse.

"Where on earth are we?" asked Bilblox. "It smells awful."

Before anyone could reply, they heard the approaching sound of hundreds of hooves clattering against the cobblestone street. There was another sound too. It was an eerie
swooshing,
as if thousands of feathers were fluttering madly in the wind. In the next instant, the hordes of rats were gone. So too were the old beggars dressed in rags. The streets were now completely empty. Hill and Alfonso looked at each other, their eyes wide with worry. A high-pitched voice called to them through the darkness: "Hide over here with me if you value your lives, good sirs!"

"Let's go!" said Alfonso.

They ran across the street to an alleyway where they found the person who had called to them—a girl, perhaps thirteen years old, standing in the shadows. She stepped into the middle of the alley and a narrow beam of moonlight illuminated her face. It was filthy, covered in dirt and grime, but her eyes glittered darkly and her hair was a fine, golden blond. She wore a heavy fur robe so caked in mud it looked like it might have been formerly used as a doormat. In her hand, she held a dagger with a shriveled, smoking tomato skewered on the tip. Behind her the remnants of a fire crackled.

"Keep your lips sealed when the horsemen pass," whispered the girl. "They will gladly kill us just for the pleasure of it."

The sound of the horses grew louder and instinctively all of them stepped backwards, deeper into the darkness of the alley. Bilblox tripped on a rock, bumped into Hill, and fell heavily. In the commotion, the top hat fell off Hill's head, hit the ground with a dull thud, and began to roll into the street.

"The bloom!" yelled Alfonso.

The girl darted out, snatched up the hat, and promptly disappeared into the shadows of a dock on the other side of the street. Then the horsemen came. They were fierce-looking men, dressed in a leather armor that was covered with feathers. The feathers made a strange flapping noise that sounded as if thousands of birds of prey were swooping in for the kill. The horsemen were all armed with either swords or lances, and some had both. All of them wore helmets with sharp pointy beaks. There were at least fifty of them and they passed together as a single group so massive that it created its own swirling wind.

As far as Alfonso was concerned, the only thing louder than the pounding of the horses' hooves was the sound of his heart, which was throbbing in his ears. Even Bilblox, who never seemed to be scared of anything, clutched Alfonso's shoulder tightly as the horsemen passed. Finally, when the last horseman had disappeared, Hill dashed out into the street to get the top hat.

"Get back in the alley, good sir! And pray stay there until I say otherwise," hissed the girl from the far side of the street. Hill hesitated, then nodded and retreated back into the alley. For a minute no one moved or said anything. Eventually, the girl called to them. "Sirs! We're safe now!" She walked casually into the middle of the street, holding the top hat in her arms.

Hill grabbed the hat from her, checked quickly to make sure the bloom was still inside, and placed the hat back on his head.

"Who were those horsemen?" he asked.

"They were Dragoonya," replied the girl, as if this was the stupidest question that anybody had ever asked her. "Didn't you see their armor with all those feathers? Who else dresses like that?"

"That's what I was afraid of," said Hill. "What are they doing here in Barsh-yin-Binder?"

The girl gave Hill a puzzled look.

"My good sirs, do you know
anything
about this place?" she asked. "The Dragoonya control this city!"

Hill's face turned a sickly white. "Wh-what do you mean?" he asked.

The girl shook her head in amazement. "The Dragoonya are
in charge here,
" said the girl, who spoke with a precise British accent. "Of course, we have a Guild of Merchants, but the Dragoonya sit in the castle, and are the real authority."

"The Dragoonya control Barsh-yin-Binder?" muttered Hill. "But, how ... I don't believe it ... How is it that I have no memory of this place? I must have passed through here as a boy but I don't remember any Dragoonya..." He stared in anguish at Alfonso. "Have I led us into a trap?"

Alfonso said nothing. All he could think of was Kiril's warning back in Fort Krasnik:
This man who professes to be your uncle will deliver you directly into the hands of the enemy. And then he'll blame all of his missteps on his faulty memory. I have foreseen the entire thing.

"Well what do ya wanna do?" asked Bilblox. "Maybe we oughta head back to the ship. If this is a trap, we need to regroup and put in someplace else. We can bypass the city, right?"

"I don't think so," said Alfonso. "We need supplies. Where else are we going to get them? No, we've just got to get in and out of this city as quickly as possible."

"That's right," concluded Hill. "We need only a few things, like a map and winter supplies..." He looked around the desolate area. "But first we need to get off these streets."

He turned to the girl. "Is there a place to sleep nearby?" he asked. "We'll pay you for your help."

The girl smiled. "I know this city as well as anyone," she said. "My fee is four gold coins a day. It is a bit steep, but you will have my undivided attention and loyalty." She looked at Hill, who nodded.

"Excellent choice, gentlemen! Come with me." She started up the street in the same direction as the Dragoonya had gone minutes before.

"Why are we trustin' her?" Bilblox muttered. "It ain't right. She'll cut our throats just like anyone else."

"Do you have other suggestions?" Hill asked. "We have to find shelter, and I don't see anyone else here. We either follow her, go back to the ship, or strike off on our own."

"What do you think, Alfonso?" Bilblox asked.

Alfonso said nothing. He looked at the girl, who was standing about ten feet away and waiting for them to follow her. She wore a tired but eager expression on her face.

Alfonso sighed. "I agree with Uncle Hill," he said. "Let's go along with her for a little while. If she had wanted to rob us, she could've done it already." He walked toward her.

"What's your name?" he asked.

She stood up straight and stuck out her hand. "The name is Resuza," she said. "And I am indeed pleased to meet you. Your uncle looks familiar. Is he a frequent visitor to these parts?"

"No," said Alfonso grimly. "I don't think so."

They started walking down the empty streets.

"Where exactly are ya takin' us?" asked Bilblox.

"The Prince Binder," replied Resuza in a confident tone. "If
you can afford it, it's the only decent hotel in town—a fine resting place and eminently comfortable."

Alfonso stopped. "We probably shouldn't go to a hotel," he said. "We don't want to raise any ... suspicions."

Resuza laughed. "Come, Master Alfonso! A group of three strangers sleeping someplace
other
than the Prince Binder would raise great suspicions. Indeed, the hotel is the only safe place for strangers in this city. You will see."

For the next half-hour or so, the four of them trudged through snowy streets hemmed in on both sides by high stone walls. Behind the walls were houses that were either abandoned or in serious disrepair. They could see caved-in roofs, collapsed doorways, and darkened windows. Barsh-yin-Binder looked like a city that had fallen upon very hard times.

As they walked, Resuza explained to the group that the Prince Binder Hotel was located in the Trawpoy, the city's best neighborhood. The name came from an ancient tongue and meant "deep caverns," which is exactly what the Trawpoy was—a series of deep caverns nestled beneath the city. In ancient times, when the city was under siege, everyone in Barsh-yin-Binder flocked to the caverns for safety. Within these caverns there were streets, homes, shops, and the city's only hotel. The caverns were also perfectly protected from the wind, sun, and rain. This made them warm in winter and cool in summer. The caverns had many natural hot springs, where warm mineral-rich water bubbled up from the earth's depths and created bathing pools that could be used even in the depths of winter.

"Doesn't sound that bad," remarked Hill.

Resuza nodded in agreement. "And because it is run by the
Guild of Merchants, the Dragoonya are on their best behavior. The common soldiers are forbidden from entering the place."

"Is that where you live?" Alfonso asked.

Resuza laughed bitterly. "If only I could," she replied. "But fate has handed me a different road." She looked at Alfonso. "I live in an abandoned building near where we first met. There are a few of us there—those unlucky enough to have no family—"

Resuza stopped mid-sentence as they turned a corner and came upon an awful sight. In the middle of the street, a stone's throw ahead of them, stood twelve Dragoonya soldiers dressed in full battle gear. Instinctively, Resuza ducked behind a nearby stone wall. The others followed her lead. Fortunately, the soldiers were facing the other direction and didn't notice them.

The soldiers stood next to a rusted dog cage. Inside the cage were three people lying huddled together. Their bodies were entwined, and they had no room to move. There was a man, a woman, and a child. Perhaps the prisoners were a family. They wore only rags for clothes and looked near death. Although the child's feet were wrapped in a blanket, the man's and woman's feet were bare. It was far below freezing, with snow piled everywhere, and the parents' bare feet—blackened and bleeding—were exposed to the elements. Being from Minnesota, Alfonso was no stranger to the cold. He knew it was only a matter of time, perhaps less than an hour, before their feet would be lifeless from frostbite. He had to do something. He couldn't go back to his mom and Pappy knowing that he had ignored the situation. Alfonso stood up and began walking toward the cage.

Resuza pulled hard on Alfonso's coat. "Do nothing!" she hissed. "Unless you want to end up dead!"

Reluctantly, Alfonso returned to his hiding position.

Hill recoiled in horror. "What's going on?" he asked. "We have to help—"

"We can do nothing to help them!" whispered Resuza harshly. "They are Dragoonya slaves who tried to escape and are now being punished. The Dragoonya put them in the dog cages for a few hours to teach them a lesson. They will probably live, and if they do, they'll never again try to escape."

"What kind of people are these Dragoonya?" asked Bilblox angrily.

"Not the sort of people that you want to cross," said Resuza. "There is no fate in life worse than being a Dragoonya slave, but we can't help them."

"She's right," said Hill. "It'd be suicide to pick a fight with them."

"You just want to leave that family to die?" asked Alfonso angrily. He couldn't believe what his uncle was saying.

"I understand how you feel," said Hill. "But we have something of our own to protect—something very important."

"But it's just—" began Alfonso.

"Have you forgotten everything I told you?" snarled Hill. It was the first time Alfonso had ever seen his uncle angry and it gave him pause. "The lives of tens of thousands of people are at stake. People are going to starve and freeze in droves if we don't make our little delivery. So keep your head about you, nephew! We have a responsibility to them—to all of them!"

Alfonso bit his lip and said nothing.

"Now look," said Hill tenderly to his nephew, "we'll be face to face with Dragoonya soon enough, but let's wait at least until we have a fighting chance."

Bilblox nodded.

"I don't know what either of you are talking about," whispered Resuza, "but let's get out of here."

"Okay," said Alfonso quietly. "Let's go."

Resuza led the way down several deserted side streets and the others followed in a gloomy silence. Eventually, after roughly fifteen minutes of walking, they came upon a set of enormous wooden doors built into the side of a hill. In front of the doors stood three men dressed in heavy fur coats and carrying ancient-looking muskets. Curved swords hung from their waists.

"Say nothing!" Resuza whispered. "We have come to the Trawpoy gates. I will speak to the guards. Don't worry, they're not Dragoonya. They're hired men who work for the Guild of Merchants."

She stepped forward and approached the guards.

"What is your business here?" demanded one of the guards. "The gates are closed!"

"These three wealthy travelers will be guests at the Prince Binder," Resuza announced.

"It will be ten gold pieces to pass," replied the guard.

Resuza looked expectantly at Hill. He nodded, reached deep into his coat pocket, and pulled out ten gold pieces.

Once paid, the guards opened the massive wooden doors, and the four of them entered a wide tunnel that led deeper into the cavern. The air in the tunnel was moist and warm and smelled rotten. The walls were lined with hundreds of small torches that shed a great deal of flickering light on the sweaty rock walls. Eventually, the tunnel opened into an expansive cavern, and here they noticed steam rising from small holes in the
ground. Alfonso also noticed a few openings in the cavern's ceiling, which allowed the night sky to pour in. Several of the openings were covered with dangling vines and white flowers that glowed in the moonlight.

The walls of the cavern were carved on both sides into rows of fashionable homes, complete with columns, porticos, steps, windows, and balconies. These homes were still in use and, unlike those in the rest of the city, their windows were lit with candles and revealed people going about their business. Many of these homes had large bathing pools in front of them. Even at this late hour, many of the pools were occupied by men who sat idly stroking their beards and enjoying the comfort of the piping-hot waters on their old bones.