The Weight of Honor by Morgan Rice Read Free Book Online Page A

of Marco, set on vengeance against Pandesia. He looked up at it all in wonder, all the people of different garb and manner and race, all rushing in every direction. It was a true cosmopolitan city.
    “Keep your head down,” Marco hissed to him, as they passed through the eastern gate, merging into the mobs.
    Marco nudged him.
    “There.” Marco nodded to a group of Pandesian soldiers. “They’re checking faces. I am sure they search for ours.”
    Alec reflexively tightened his grip on his dagger, and Marco reached over and grabbed his wrist firmly.
    “Not here, my friend,” Marco cautioned. “This is no country village but a city of war. Kill two Pandesians at the gate, and an army will follow.”
    Marco stared at him with intensity.
    “Would you rather kill two?” he pressed. “Or two thousand?”
    Alec, realizing the wisdom in his friend’s words, released his grip on his dagger, summoning all his will to quell his passion for vengeance.
    “There will be many chances, my friend,” Marco said, as they pressed on through the crowd, heads lowered. “My friends are here, and the resistance is strong.”
    They merged with the throng passing through the gate, and Alec lowered his eyes so the Pandesians would not see them.
    “Hey you!” a Pandesian barked. Alec felt his heart pounding as he kept his head down.
    They rushed his way, and he tightened his grip on his dagger, preparing. But they stopped a boy beside him, instead, roughly grabbing his shoulder and checking his face. Alec breathed deep, relieved it was not him, and he passed through the gate quickly, undetected.
    They finally entered the city square, and as Alec pulled back his hood and looked inside the city, he was in awe at the sight before him. There, before him, stretched all the architectural magnificence and bustle of Ur. The city seemed to be alive, pulsing, shining in the sun, seeming to actually sparkle. At first Alec could not understand why, and then he realized: the water. Everywhere was water, the city laced with canals, blue water sparkling in the morning sun, making the city feel as if it were one with the sea. The canals were filled with every manner of vessel—rowboats, canoes, sailing boats—even sleek black warships sailing the yellow and blue banners of Pandesia. The canals were bordered by cobblestone streets, ancient stone, worn smooth, being tread on by thousands of people in every manner of wardrobe. Alec saw knights, soldiers,  civilians, traders, peasants, beggars, jugglers, merchants, farmers and many other folk, all mingling together. Many wore colors Marco had never seen, clearly visitors from across the sea, visitors from around the world who were visiting Ur, Escalon’s international port. Indeed, bright, foreign colors and insignias were flown by all the different ships cramming the canal, as if the whole world had come together at one place.
    “The cliffs surrounding Escalon are so high, they are what keep our land impregnable,” Marco explained as they walked. “Ur has the only beach, the only harbor for large vessels wishing to beach. Escalon has other harbors, but none as easy to access. So when they wish to visit us, they all come here,” he added with a wave of his hand, looking out at all the people, all the ships.
    “It is both a good and a bad thing,” he continued. “It brings us trade and commerce from all four corners of the kingdom.”
    “And the bad?” Alec asked, as they squeezed their way through the crowd and Marco stopped to purchase a stick of meat.
    “It leaves Ur prone to attack by sea,” he replied. “It is a natural spot for an invasion.”
    Alec studied the city’s skyline in awe, taking in all the steeples, the endless array of tall buildings. He had never seen anything like it.
    “And the towers?” he asked, looking up at a series of tall, square towers crowned with parapets, sticking up over the city and facing the sea.
    “They were built to watch the sea,” Marco answered.