The sun dipped behind the fortress city of Keshin-Kho as it came into view, making it resemble the dented conical helm of some long-vanished giant. It sat atop the junction of a waterway known as the Great Northern Canal and a south-flowing river bearing the unedifying title of the Black Vein. Like Min-Tran, the city featured no buildings beyond its walls. As the company drew closer Vaelin could make out two more walls within the outer barrier, each one constructed at a higher elevation than the one before. The city streets grew denser as they rose to a summit from which a slender tower ascended, rendered needle thin by the glare of the fading sun. It stood taller even than the towers he had seen in Muzan-Khi.
“You’d see an army approaching a day away from that,” Nortah commented, shielding his eyes to squint at the tower.
“Two days, lord,” Tsai Lin corrected with a polite smile. “There are optical devices at the top that can see for many miles.”
“Spyglasses you mean?”
“Of a sort, but much larger. The Merchant King goes to great expense to ensure the lenses are replaced regularly. There is an entire workshop in Muzan-Khi where the artisans do nothing but grind glass for the long-eyes, as they’re known.”
Long-eyes, Vaelin thought. Something else to write to Lyrna about.
A short delay ensued at the city’s main gate as Sho Tsai presented his credentials to the guard captain. The sight of the Merchant King’s seal ensured they were quickly provided with an honour guard and escorted through the maze of narrow streets towards the central palace where the Prefecture’s governor resided. In contrast to the streets of Muzan-Khi the people here were less quick to shuffle clear of their path, some standing and staring in open hostility until the soldiers shoved them aside.
“No bowing here, I see,” Nortah observed quietly to Vaelin. In recent days the wine-induced vagueness that had characterised his features for so long had given way to the careful shrewdness Vaelin remembered from their last few years in the Order. Although never as insightful as Caenis, Nortah had always possessed a faculty for quickly assessing potential threats, even if such assessment didn’t always lead to the wisest response.
“Erlin tells me the Northern Prefecture was the last territory to be conquered by the Emerald Empire,” Vaelin replied. “Apparently, they’ve never taken it well. And the prospect of war rarely makes for a happy populace.”
They followed a winding course to the centre of the city. Whoever had set down the plans for Keshin-Kho had evidently known something of siege craft, for the main gates of each successive wall were positioned at opposite points of the compass. Any attacking force that managed to breach one gate would therefore be obliged to traverse numerous narrow streets under the eyes and arrows of the defenders atop the next wall.
The innermost stood taller than the others, at least seventy feet high and featuring overhanging buttresses every fifty paces, which would allow defenders to shower all manner of unpleasantness on an assaulting army. This wall also featured the narrowest gate, barely wide enough to admit two horsemen at once. Sho Tsai led the way into the courtyard beyond where he was greeted by a tall, well-built man clad in a cloak fashioned from the pelt of some white-furred, black-striped beast.
“Captain!” The tall man extended his arms in welcome as Sho Tsai dismounted to offer a carefully respectful bow.
“Governor Hushan.” The captain presented the scroll bearing the Merchant King’s seal. “I come on orders . . .”
“Of course you do!” The governor laughed and clapped a hand to Sho Tsai’s shoulder. “Why else would the Red Scouts honour my humble city with their presence? Especially since I never requested it.” He laughed again, though Vaelin saw his humour abruptly diminish at the sight of the foreigners amongst Sho Tsai’s company. “You bring me strange visitors, I see,” he said, quickly placing another smile on his lips. “This all bodes well for a most interesting evening.”
The governor’s mansion, like everything else in this city, had been built for defence rather than opulence or comfort. Its stone walls were thick and the tiered rooftops sloped at a more acute angle than usual, meaning they would be harder to climb. At Sho Tsai’s request Vaelin accompanied him to Governor Hushan’s private chambers. The governor listened to the captain’s report with a polite attention that only deepened into genuine interest at mention of the Jade Princess’s