The Hidden City by David Eddings

These clothes are good enough for Arjuna and Tamul Proper,

neighbor,’ Sparhawk told the shopkeeper later that same day,

but they don’t exactly turn the trick in a duststorm. I think that

last one put about four pounds of dirt down my back.’

The shopkeeper nodded sagely. ‘Other races laugh at our customary

garb, good Master,’ he observed. ‘They usually keep

laughing right up until the time when they ride through their

first duststorm.’

“Does the wind blow all the time out there?’ Talen asked

him. :Not quite all the time, young Master. The afternoons are usually

the worst.’ He looked at Sparhawk. ‘How many robes will

you be needing, good Master?’

There are six of us, neighbor, and none of us are so fond of

each other that we’d care to share a robe.’

“have you any preferences in colors?’

“Does one color keep the dust out better than the others?’

“Not that I’ve noticed.’

“Then any color will do, I guess.’

The shopkeeper hustled into his storeroom and returned with

a pile of neatly-folded garments. Then he smiled, rubbed his

hands together and broached the subject of the price.

“He overcharged you, you know,’ Talen said as they emerged

from the cluttered shop into the dusty street.

Sparhawk shrugged. ‘Perhaps,’ he said.

“Someday I’m going to have to teach you about the finer points

%~S.’

“Does it really matter?’ Sparhawk asked, tying the bundle of

Cynesgan robes to the back of his saddle. He looked around

‘Anarae?’

‘I am here, Anakha,’ her whispered voice responded.

‘Were you able to find anything?’

‘Nay, Anakha. Clearly the messenger hath not yet arrived.’

‘Berit and Khalad are still several days away, Sparhawk,’ Talon

said quietly. ‘And this isn’t such an attractive place that the

messenger would want to get here early to enjoy the scenery.’

He looked around at the winter-dispirited palm trees and the

muddy pond that lay at the center of the cluster of white houses.

‘Attractive or not, we’re going to have to come up with some

reason for staying,’ Sparhawk said. ‘We can’t leave until the

messenger gets here and Anarae Xanetia can listen to what he’s

thinking.’

‘I can remain here alone, Anakha,’ Xanetia told him. ‘None

here can detect my presence, so I do not need protection.’

‘We’ll stay all the same, Anarae,’ Sparhawk told her. ‘Courtesy

and all that, you understand. An Elene gentleman will not permit

a lady to go about unescorted.’

An argument had broken out on the shaded porch of what

appeared to be a tavern or a wine-shop of some kind. ‘You don’t

know what you’re talking about, Echon!’ a wheezy-voiced old

man in a patched and filthy robe declared loudly. ‘It’s a good

hundred miles from here to the River Sama, and there’s no

water at all between here and there.’

‘You either drink too much or you’ve been out in the sun too

long, Zagorri,’ Echon, a thin, sun-dried man in a dark blue robe

scoffed. ‘My map says that it’s sixty miles – no more.’

‘How well do you know the man who drew the map? I’ve

been here all my life, and I know how far it is to the Sama. Go

ahead, though. Take only enough water for sixty miles. Your

mules will die, and you’ll be drinking sand for that last forty

miles. It’s all right with me, though, because I’ve never liked

you all that much anyway. But, mark my words, Echon. It’s one

hundred miles from the Well of Vigay there to the banks of the

Sama.’ And the old man spat in the direction of the pale brown

pond. Talon suddenly began to laugh.

‘What’s so funny?’ Sparhawk asked him.

‘We just had a stroke of luck, revered leader,’ the boy replied

gaily. ‘if we’re all finished up here, why don’t we go back to

where the others are waiting? We’ll all want a good night’s

sleep – since we’ll probably be leaving first thin in the morning.’

‘Oh? For where?’

‘Cyrga, of course. Wasn’t that where we wanted to go?’

‘Yes, but we don’t know where Cyrga is.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong, Sparhawk. We do know the way

to Cyrga – at least I do.’

CHAPTER 23

‘Did he die well?’ Betuana asked. Her face was very pale, but

she gave no other outward sign of distress.

‘It was a suitable death, Betuana-Queen,’ the messenger

replied. ‘We were at the bottom of a gorge and the Klael-beast

was hurling the sides of it down upon us. Androl-King attacked

the beast, and many escaped that would have died if he had

not.’

She considered it. ‘Yes,’ she agreed finally. ‘It was suitable.

It will be remembered. Is the army fit to travel?’

‘We have many injured, Betuana-Queen, and thousands are

buried in the gorge. We withdrew to Tualas to await your

commands.’

‘Leave some few to care for the injured, and bring the army

here,’ she told him. ‘Toea is no longer in danger. The danger is

here.’

‘It shall be as you say, my Queen.’ He clashed his fist against

his breastplate in salute.

The Queen of Atan rose to her feet, her still-pale face betraying

no emotion. ‘I must go apart and consider this, Itagne-Ambassador,’

she said formally.

‘It is proper, Betuana-Queen,’ he responded. ‘I share your

grief.’

‘But not my guilt.’ She turned and slowly left the room.

Itagne looked at the stony-faced Engessa. ‘i’d better pass the

word to the others,’ he said.

Engessa nodded shortly.

‘Could you speak with the messenger before he leaves,

‘Engessa?’ Itagne asked. ‘Lord Vanion will need casualty figures

before he can change his strategy.’

‘I will obtain them for you, Itagne-Ambassador.’ Engessa

inclined his head shortly and went out.

Itagne swore and banged his fist on the table. ‘Of all the times

for this to happen!’ he fumed. ‘if that idiot had only waited before

he got himself killed!’

Betuana had done nothing wrong. There had been no stain

of dishonor in her concerrn for Engessa, and if she had only had

a week or two to put it behind her, it would probably have been

forgotten – along with the personal feelings which caused it.

But Androl’s death, coming as it did at this particular time Itagne

swore again. The Atan Queen had to be able to function,

and this crisis might well incapacitate her. For all Itagne knew,

she was in her room right now preparing to fall on her sword.

He rose and went looking for paper and pen. Vanion had to

be warned about this before everything here in Sama hell

apart.

‘It all fell into place when I heard that old man call their little

pond ‘the Well of Vigay”,’ Talen explained. ‘Ogerajin used

exactly the same term.’

‘I don’t know that it means very much,’ Mirtai said dubiously.

‘Cynesgans call all these desert springs wells. Micay was probably

the one who discovered it.’

‘But the important thing is that this is one of the landmarks

Ogerajin mentioned,’ Bevier said. ‘How did the subject come

up?’ he asked Talen.

‘Stragen and I were spinning moonbeams for Valash,’ the boy

replied. ‘Ogerajin had just arrived from Verel, and he was sitting

in a chair with his brains quietly rotting. Stragen was telling

Valash about something he’d supposedly overheard – some fellow

telling another that Scarpa was waiting for instructions from

Cyrga. He was fishing for information, and he casually asked

Valash what route a man would have to follow to get to Cyrga.

That’s when Ogerajin jumped in. He started rambling, talking

about the “Well of Vigay” and the “Plains of Salt” and other

places with names that sounded as if they’d come right out of

a story-book. I thought he was just raving, but Valash got very

excited and tried to hush him up. That’s what made me pay

closer attention to what the crazy man was saying. I got the

feeling that he was giving Stragen very specific directions

to Cyrga, but the directions were all clouded over with those storybook

names. This “Well of Vigay” business makes me start to

wonder if the directions were as cloudy and garbled as I thought

they were at first.’

‘What were his exact words, young Talen?’ Xanetia asked.

‘He said, “The pathway lies close by the Well of Vigay”. That’s

when Valash tried to shut him up, but he kept right on. He said

something about wanting to give Stragen directions so that he

could go to Cyrga and bow down to Cyrgon. He told him to

go northwest from the “Well of Vigay” to the “Forbidden

Mountains”. ‘

Sparhawk checked over his map. ‘There are several clusters

of mountains in central Cynesga, and that’s the general region

Aphrael pointed out back on the island. What else did he say,

Talen?’

‘He sort of jumped around. He talked about the “Forbidden

Mountains” and the “Pillars of Cyrgon”. Then he doubled back

on himself and started talking about the “Plains of Salt”. From

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