He sat up, and his movement caused Urp to do the same. The wolf’s white fur caught the moonlight that filtered through the trees, and was glowing the same magical blue that the flames from the dragon skull in his dreams had. Again, he heard the voice of his clan’s goddess calling out to him. This time, it sent chills up his spine. Absently, he rubbed Urp’s head, and decided that he needed to answer her call. King Aldar had spoken of the temple in Xwarda, called Whitten Loch. As soon as he saw to Mikahl’s condition, he would seek it out, and pray to her for guidance.
It was late the following evening when they arrived at the massive gates of Xwarda’s huge, white rock outer wall. All of them, even Drick, had been dazzled for the last hour or so by the way the setting sun reflected off of the western face of the mountains and the Witch Queen’s sparkling castle city. Hyden couldn’t imagine anything looking more glorious. He’d seen the city from above, but that sight hadn’t prepared him for this.
He counted seven great round towers rising up from the castle’s main structure. Several smaller towers rose up around the city as well. All of them were topped with shiny metal sheets which made them look like they had been dipped in molten gold, as they caught the rays of the sinking sun.
The wall itself was easily fifty feet tall, and half as thick. Drick told them that there was normally a great congregation of tent dwellers and hawkers, who lived just outside of the wall, but Queen Willa had ordered them inside the gates, so that the military might prepare the terrain for the Valleyan/Seaward attack. Only the trampled debris they had left behind remained, and most of that had been saturated with flammable oil.
Hyden and Vaegon marveled at the tunnel-like passage they had to go through to get into the city. Hyden asked about the slits and holes in the walls and ceiling of the entry tunnel, and Drick explained the horrific nature of them. Hot oil and burning pitch could be poured on trespassers, while archers loosed through the slits. It made Hyden shutter just thinking about it. When they finally emerged from the entry tunnel, both Hyden and Vaegon gasped at what they saw.
A great colored mosaic, of leaded stained glass spread high across the castle’s main building. It was still a good distance away, but the paneled depictions rose up over the city like a painting hung for the gods. The backlit scene was indecipherable from the distance they were at, but the ruby reds, sapphire blues, and emerald greens shone like a dragon’s hoard of jewels in a band across the castle’s front. The breathtaking majesty of it all, managed to overshadow the feelings of unease that the hundreds of Blacksword banners flitting in the breeze instilled in Hyden and Vaegon. The uncertainty and fear was still there under the surface. Neither of them could forget the amount of bloodshed that the Blacksword soldiers had started at Summer’s Day.
Inside the walls, a stench of refuse and foul body odors assaulted them, and the streets were packed with people, wagons, various farm animals and all their filth. It was crowded beyond imagining. Everywhere one looked, there were wagons piled with the belongings of the people that were huddled around them.
“People coming in from the western towns and farmsteads,” Drick explained. “They come for the protection of yon walls.”
He pointed back at them, and Hyden noticed, for the first time, that the top was crenellated. He also saw that the slots, that he had assumed were windows or vents, before Drick had explained them as arrow slits, were nowhere to be found on this side of the wall. The ranger’s distaste for the crowded city showed plainly on his face, as he nervously urged them on into the throng of chaos.
“It will be less cramped once we get past the next set of gates.”
They had no problem getting through the crowd. The people parted like a cornfield might if a bear went wandering through it. Many of them pointed and gasped at the sight of Vaegon’s elven features, but Urp’s raised hackles, and steady menacing growl was enough to cause the hungry, and disheveled folk, to give the group a wide berth.
A few groups of people cheered their passage, as if they were some great heroes coming to save them from the approaching Valleyan and Seaward hordes. More than once Vaegon, or Hyden, or both of them, had to talk Urp down from his fearful and excited state.
Hyden felt sorry for the brave wolf. Urp had limped the entire way, from the camp to the city, without slowing them, or making a sound of pain or protest. Sore and tired, there was no doubt he was intimidated by the masses, and all their strange scents. Vaegon had commented that the wolf had watched over them intently the whole time they had rested, and hadn’t slept much. Hyden reminded himself to make sure that ample food was provided for Urp, and that there was a quiet place for the animal to rest.
Drick had been correct. When they passed under a slightly smaller, older, yet no less formidable looking wall a short while later, the space beyond it was far less crowded than the outer city. There were plenty of people, and wagons spread around the cobbled streets, but it was obvious by the quality of the clothes that people wore, and the possessions piled into the carts, that these were a different class of refugees.