On the Shores of Tay-Ho by Russell C. Connor

Author:Russell C. Connor [Connor, Russell C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dark Filament Books
Published: 2020-01-20T22:00:00+00:00

1

Doaks made the bonnet of the wagon invisible as they approached the fortress city at the northern end of Tay-ho. Korden sat up in his cage and stared out at it in awe. On the other side of a vast field of grazing hump-backed beasts, a gray stone wall twenty pargs high stretched across the horizon, encompassing a tiered settlement that backed up into a steep mountainside, with several high towers spread across the land. The tallest of these, right in the center of the town, had a working clock face mounted on the front, the hands big enough to tell the time from spans away. A wide, arched entrance stood at the center of the rock boundary, with a steady stream of foot and horse traffic passing both directions. Spread around this gateway was another, smaller settlement made up of tents and horse-drawn carts, where people milled around campfires and sellers and performers. And, off to their left, two or three spans from the entrance, wooden piers lay across the arctic blue waters of Tay-ho, where several boats docked, all much larger than the kayak. The people on them were unloading crates of fish but stopped to stare as Doc Apocalypse’s hovering Conestoga passed by.

Ida. The Town with Power.

It was magnificent. A bustling settlement the likes of which Korden had dreamed of seeing.

Doaks spun around in his seat at the control panel. “Looks like our swan song is gonna have quite an audience, rubos! If the show goes half as nice here, we’ll be drownin in swag tonight! Do me proud and I might even let yah both off the leash as a reward!”

When he turned around, Zeega cast one eye across the wagon at Korden and muttered sullenly, “The human lies.”

It took another few minutes for them to cross the field, then Doaks slowed Gwenita even more as they entered the sprawling shantytown around the gates of Ida. The crowds parted to make way for the wagon, people murmuring with excitement, a few even reaching out to touch the sideboards as they hovered by. Doaks stood at the front of the wagon, smiling and waving his hat, encouraging folks to come see the show and have all their woes cured. Korden craned his neck to take it all in: people of so many different colors and dress styles; jugglers and musicians and vendors selling charred rodents on skewers, the tantalizing smell of which made Korden’s perpetually hungry stomach convulse. There was also a black-frocked man on a pedestal who never stopped shouting about how the Aged Lord would watch over those who did not ‘diversify the tree of life’.

They reached the arch, where a slab of spiked steel was suspended high above. Beyond the archway, Korden could see a courtyard with similar gates to the left and right and stands of seats around the perimeter. But the path through the main entry was blocked by three large men in leather armor with swords at their side. They held up their hands and shouted for the wagon to halt.

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