you saw this person I met, could you tell if he was speaking the truth?” Eris asked, scooping eggs onto a wooden spoon.
Raj sat back, shook his head and also grabbed a mug of ale from a passing serving boy.
“Out on the caravan routes I will gladly give my life for yours as you have commanded honor and respect from me and many others. But, as a man of honor, I ask that you not ask such a thing of me.”
“Agreed,” Eris said. He downed a second mug of ale and wondered what he should do next. He didn't trust anyone the way he trusted Raj.
“Listen,” Raj said quietly, noting Eris' rising frustration. “They say that on the Street of Spirits are people who know these things, or at least claim to.”
“Have you ever been there?”
“Once, for curiosity. In truth, though, I’d rather face a dozen Brazzi scimitars than go there again,” Raj answered with a shiver. Eris shivered involuntarily and Raj smiled. “I see we are of the same mind, but I think you need to go if you want an answer.”
“You're probably right,” Eris agreed. “I’m also turning over my command to you for today’s caravan. I have the feeling I won't be available for a while.”
“Let’s hope it’s only a short while. I don’t have the facility of language that you do to be able to converse with most of the mercenaries. I see many silent leagues ahead of me,” Raj complained.
“On the other hand, you'll have much time to decide just what it is you'll do when you ‘settle down’ and take a wife,” Eris said, rising from the table. He pushed what he hadn’t finished of his breakfast across the table. He clapped a firm hand on Raj’s shoulder and squeezed. “Take care, my friend. With any luck, I'll see you in a few weeks.”
Eris put a few coins on the table and then stepped out into the cool, morning air. The haze had already burned off and a cloudless blue sky stretched overhead. It took him longer than anticipated to reach the Street of Spirits, having once lost his way. When he arrived, he understood why Raj had come to satisfy his curiosity.
The area was more like a park than a street. Narrow pathways wound their way between trees, hedgerows and a multitude of different sanctuaries. Eris knew Rennas Baye was a meeting place of many cultures, but he had no idea how many until he saw the variety of architectures peeking between the leaves of trees and bushes. Already quite a few people walked along the paths, or stopped for a rest beneath an arbor of jasmine or grape vines. Some drank water issuing from fanciful fountains all the while mouthing silent invocations and bowing in some proscribed manner.
It was the silence, Eris realized, that made the place unnerving. As he moved farther along the pathways, the sounds of the city faded. Although he saw scores of people in the park, it was silent but for the chatter of birds and splashing water. A few people he passed gave him disapproving looks for his obviously hostile dress and the soft creaking his leather armor made. He also realized there was no way to ask directions from anyone and wondered if he could find an answer before the sun peaked at noon, when he was sure the red beard would suddenly appear no matter where he was and wanting his answer.
Eris wandered nearly another half hour before he stopped in front of an edifice that looked a bit more hopeful than those with effigies of gods, animals, flowers, fishes—anything one imagined. He couldn’t read the sign, but it seemed somewhat familiar. Maybe from a land he had visited at some point in his travels.
Constructed of highly polished, pinkish granite, the building glowed like a giant rose amidst the surrounding greenery. Several narrow, stained-glass windows began several spans from the ground and soared upward to a flat roof where a dozen or more large, crystal fire bowls sat in a row. From where he stood, Eris smelled the scented oil as it burned. This was as likely a place as any to find a fire
Learning to Kill: Stories