additional streaks of grey in Erlin’s hair and beard.
Chien was the last to appear, escorted by four guards instead of two and her wrists manacled. She moved with a stiff-backed, blank-faced composure that turned into an icy glare as she caught sight of Vaelin. The stare didn’t waver as the guards removed her manacles, and Vaelin decided it would be an inopportune moment to offer a greeting.
“Dai Lo!”
The young soldier snapped to attention at the voice of his commander, turning and saluting with a closed fist to his chest. “Yes, Dai Shin!”
Horseshoes clattered on the tiles as Sho Tsai guided his horse through the throng, a tall dappled stallion with the long legs of an animal bred for the hunt. “Get the foreigners mounted up and let’s be on our way,” the commander ordered.
“My people need a moment,” Vaelin said, nodding to his companions. “Refreshment and time to wash.”
Sho Tsai regarded him in silence before nodding to a horse trough. “Wash then,” he said, setting his mount into motion. “And be quick about it. The Merchant King has commanded a speedy resolution to this mission and I have no intention of disappointing him.”
He cantered from the courtyard with the fully mounted company close behind, riding in two neat files. There was a clatter of wood and metal, and Vaelin turned to see a blue-armoured soldier dumping a canvas bundle onto the ground. Upon landing, the canvas fell away to reveal their weapons.
“Well, that’s something,” Nortah observed, retrieving his bow. “At least they didn’t break anything.”
“Lord, if you would,” Tsai Lin said, gesturing to where grooms held the reins of seven saddled horses. “We cannot linger.”
Vaelin nodded, halting Ellese and Sehmon in their tracks as they moved to the trough. “Get your gear and mount up,” he instructed. “Wash later. A bit of stink won’t kill you.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
“Is this whole country just one never-ending city?” Alum wondered, gazing around at the unceasing maze of close-packed buildings. The hour was early but the streets were still busy with people, all quick to shuffle to the side with bowed heads as the soldiers rode by. It had been over an hour since the Red Scouts departed the Merchant King’s palace and there was still no sign of an end to the city.
“Muzan-Khi is the largest city in the Far West,” Erlin said. “Which makes it probably the largest city in the world.” He spoke in a tired drawl and sat hunched in the saddle with a decidedly grey pallor to his sagging features.
“Are you all right?” Vaelin asked.
“Of course not.” Erlin grimaced and let out a very faint laugh. “I’m old.”
Morning had become afternoon by the time the walls came into sight. The outer districts were on a lower elevation to the centre of the city, so Vaelin was afforded a clear view of the forty-foot-high barrier stretching away for several miles on either side. Unlike the port of Hahn-Shi, there appeared to be no further conurbation beyond the walls, only a vast patchwork of cultivated fields in various hues of green.
“It is forbidden to build beyond the walls, lord,” Tsai Lin explained when Vaelin raised the question. “The Merchant Kings have long decreed Muzan-Khi to be an eternal jewel, as unchanging as the sun.”
“But the number of people here must grow by the year,” Vaelin said.
“Muzan-Khi is often called the nest of the kingdom. All second sons and daughters are required to move to another city or town upon reaching the age of twenty-one, and are happy to do so, for opportunity waits for those who seek it out. Thus is the Venerable Kingdom bound together.”
“What about third or fourth sons and daughters?”
“Such a thing is forbidden in the cities, lord. Only in the provinces are families permitted more than two children. From the earliest days of the Emerald Empire it has been known that too many mouths means famine in the long run.”
They rode through a north-facing gatehouse that had the dimensions of a minor castle, and found themselves traversing a road of remarkably straight construction. Only in Volaria had Vaelin seen a road to compare, although it lacked the slightly elevated centre and drainage ditch that made the arteries of the now-former slave empire immune to the depredations of the weather. As in the city, people made way for the soldiers of the Merchant King, carts and people hurrying aside at the first glimpse of the Red Scouts, with one notable exception.
“Must’ve left a pot on the