A Court of Queens (Heavy Lies the Crown: Three) by D. Fischer

Author:D. Fischer [Fischer, D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Divinus Kingdom Publishing, LLC
Published: 2022-01-27T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Nefari and Vale walk their horses through Eveland’s market. Slaves carry baskets atop their heads as they follow their masters. Merchants under vibrant tents shout their wears to every potential patron who passes. The wide dirt path is crowded for the morning, and Nefari takes in all the smells, all the greyness that stands out starkly against the many arrays of shaded tents. It smells of poverty, reeks of body odor. It smells of food and perfumes. And the wind smells of iron and steel. And the atmosphere . . . well, the atmosphere drains Nefari of once strong magic. She feels weak here, vulnerable, and she doesn’t like the feeling at all.

She doesn’t know what to make of this place. She doesn’t know how to feel, but she knows one thing: She doesn’t like big cities. All of her senses are on overdrive.

Nefari and Vale pass a particularly crowded area where people raise purses above their heads and shout to the ring they surround. Inside, two shirtless men beat each other into a pulp. Their faces are bloody, and their lips are swollen and bruised. The fools. Fighting for sport. When Nefari spars, it isn’t to draw blood. There’s always respect for her opponent just as she was taught.

Covering their heads with the cloak’s hood a little more, they push on, passing meat vendors and fruit sellers. “Where in the Divine’s name are we?” Nefari whispers reverently.

“In a whole new world.”

Nefari tugs on her reins to keep Astra’s attention from straying. Indeed, it felt that way. The city, though brimming with the poor, was more civilized than any village she’s been to. The houses behind the market street are small but tall. Clothing is draped on a line tethered to two adjacent poles across their small yards, all in various shades of grey.

Blowing out a nervous breath, Nefari pushes on. There are too many people here to breathe properly, too many people here to think properly.

Ahead is a podium where slaves stand, waiting to be bid on. The bidders shout above one another, raising hands as the auction for the fate of their lives begins. Nefari veers away from it, and Vale follows. So many slaves. There are so many slaves in the city that Nefari can’t count. Some slaves are satyrs. Some are unharvested shadow people, and others are humans. Nefari wonders if the human slaves are being punished for their crimes, or had they become slaves to feed their poor families by the coin that was received by them? Perhaps the families sold them. Perhaps the slaves are criminals. Nefari doesn’t know, but it breaks her heart just the same.

“There,” Vale says, pointing ahead.

Ahead sits a pen full of horses. The horses are brown and yellow and speckled and spotted. There are mares and stallions and yearlings, all in fine shape. A woman stands in front of the pen, holding a black stallion by the reins. A transaction occurs between a nameless man and the woman as Nefari and Vale make their way to the pens.

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