COP S2.10 Portside
“We need to get out. All of us.”
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Previously on…
Lyn recovered from her encounter with Steffan thanks to the fryn. She and Tass discussed portals and how they work, but Lyn doesn’t learn their secrets. They are in a rush to get to Yiat and prepare to investigate the Daunger ruins.
We emerged in a pantry. Light leaked through cracks in the walls, illuminating canvas bags stacked four high to the right. On the left was shelving, sparsely filled with jars and smaller bags.
Behind me, the thin, purple-blue line showing the portal opening faded from top to bottom, leaving a wall like any other. I really wanted to know more about them, but for once, I held my questions.
Tass rested his hand on the latch of the door and waited. I heard voices. Laughter drifted closer. Boots scraped against wood. Then the smell hit me. The distinct aroma of the sea.
When the steps and voices faded, he opened the door and waved for me to follow him. We stood outside along the high boardwalk above the bay. Dozens of storage shacks, just like the one we’d come out of, lined one side, pressed up against the dark stone cliff. Opposite them was open to the air with a wide view of Longfinger Sea. A half dozen pulley systems for lifting cargo were spaced out at equal intervals, several farther down, currently swinging boxes up from the boats below.
Tass turned in the direction the footsteps had gone and pointed up to the right.
Yiat. I’d never seen it from this perspective. The massive grey stone walls and the wide, winding road from the port to the gate took my breath away. I’m not easily impressed. But that perspective, looking up at the city, is one I’ll never forget.
“That’s a much shorter walk.” My mind still reeled at the thought of how many portals there must be, and I wondered if Tass knew them all. “But how, how is there—”
“Not here.” He tapped his ear, then waved his hand at the little sheds.
“Ah. Later then.” Clearly, not all of those little buildings were just for storage. I read a few as we passed, and some definitely had people in them. More than one usually. What they were doing was none of my business, so I didn’t look for long.
The line for the gate stopped moving by the time we reached it. A large caravan of what I assumed were tourists had clogged it up. Raised voices could be heard, but I couldn’t make out what was being said. “Is it always like this?”
“Not sure. I don’t come this way often, but I thought they did their best to keep the port side moving.”
A group of men in front of us turned around.
“Aye,” said an older man in a blue captain’s coat. “But their best varies like the sea. ‘Pends on the day and who’n charge.” He chuckled along with his mates.
“Good to know.” His gaze lingered on me, then my bag, before he gave a curt nod and moved up with the line. It seemed whatever the hold up was had passed. I looked at Tass to see if he showed any of the uneasiness I was feeling after the encounter. It wasn’t exactly like I’d been read, but the sensation was similar. Other than his somewhat usual frown, Tass had no reaction.
When we got close to the gate, there was no obvious sign of why the line had moved so slowly. I suspected, though, it had something to do with several characters with stern expressions lurking behind the normal guards. Unlike the basic clothing and sigil I’d seen the other times I’d entered Yiat, these men wore a standard uniform and leather armor. Emblazoned on their chests were stripes of yellow, red, and orange. Their helmets and cheekplates were studded with metal and a short spike stuck out from the top. They reminded me of the royal guard I’d seen, from a distance, in Peterra.
Maybe because of their presence, the regular guards were more diligent than usual. Even with my papers proving I had a rented house, they wanted to search my belongings. When I started fingering my staff, Tass stepped in. A few name drops and they told us to go through.
“Try not to get into trouble,” he said under his breath. “Those were Wardot, the laz’s special guards.”
Before I could answer, another group of guards stopped us in the entrance tunnel.
This time, one of them knew Tass, and seemed more friendly than the one from the shit-covered encounter we’d had that first night.
“Odd time, and place, Tass.” The guard didn’t look much older than me, though grey hairs were spouting out of his temples.
“It’s my day off. Just going to get supplies at the market.”
“From the port gate? You always come from the east.”
Tass cast a glance my way, then stepped closer to the guard and whispered in his ear. The other guards leaned closer to hear, but a wagon filled with people and goods rushed past. The sound bounced off the arched stone of the entry tunnel. Two more followed, their frantic energy putting me more on edge than what Tass had said to the guard.
Whatever that had been, the guard waved the two of us through and I gratefully made my way out from under the massive deathtrap above my head. “What was that about?” I asked Tass outside. “What did you say to him?”
He smirked. “Just that I was acting as your guide to the city.”
“That was it?”
He kept walking on the wide road lined with piles of goods and merchants distributing them to other eager merchants. It made sense the port gate was more of a staging area than a market, though the feeling was much the same. As I jogged to catch up with him, I saw the group of men from the line. The man who’d talked to us glanced our way. A shiver went through me.
“Tass?”
“Yes. That was it. But he made certain…assumptions about the benefits of being your guide.”
“He what?” I matched his pace, the road becoming more narrow as we entered the city proper.
“You, a beautiful woman, hired me to guide you to your rented house.”
The implications hit me. “And you let him think—?” I resisted the urge to whack him on the arm, or knock him about with my staff. My face flushed, not entirely from anger.
He chuckled. “It got us through. The advantage of what I do here is I get to know people. Know what they expect, know how to talk to them. And how not to get attention from the Wardot. That helps me do the real work that needs doing.”
Thunderous clapping of horses on cobblestones grew loud. We leaped to the side just before a group of seven rode past us. By the look of them, they were wealthy. Their reckless speed implied the same.
My instincts told me this wasn’t a normal occurrence, but never having been to this side of the city, I couldn’t say. Before I could ask Tass, or press him on whatever his real work was, he took off. That seemed to confirm the unusualness of people rushing out of the city.
By the time we’d weaved our way to the house, there was no arguing that something was off. More people, some on horses, but most on foot, streamed on the roads. Merchants were closing up their shops, though it wasn’t even mid-day yet. Some were loading carts and hitching horses.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re alright, mim,” Nia said when we entered the house. “And you too, Tass. No young mim?” She frowned and looked behind us.
“She’s well. Just busy somewhere else. What is going on?”
Her eyes widened. “Come. Come. You must be hungry.” She headed toward the kitchen.
After she’d loaded us up with plates of pastries, she stood at the end of the table and finally answered my question. “Brots was shut down this morning. The rumors are they tried to treat someone cursed and, and it went badly.” She wrung her hands. “The laz ordered everyone inside killed and the building shuttered. They say he plans to burn it down. The Wardot have orders to kill anyone seen using magic. Known magic users…many have disappeared….” She was breathing heavily, like saying the words took too much effort. Her eyes were glassy, reflecting the flames in the fire.
Tass sat silent. His hands were tight fists, his face impassive.
I said the only thing that came to my mind. “Another purge.”
“Jor. Where’s Jor?” Tass half stood before Nia waved him back down.
“He’s out getting as many supplies as he can before the merchants all flee or the laz closes the gates.” She dropped onto a stool.
“We need to get out. All of us.”
Nia wiped her eyes. “You think, you think he might have…”
“The potential,” he said, his voice quiet.
“As do you,” I added. “It isn’t safe now for any of us.”
Her face turned a shade paler. “I’ll get some things together.”
“Just essentials. We’ll have supplies where we’re going.” Tass went rested his hand on her back.
I didn’t need to read her to see the great sadness within her. Was it just walking away from the house and job? It seemed more than that. My pack of essentials was already ready. All needed to do was get my beautiful animal friend. “I get Spiri. I’m sure she’ll be on edge with all this activity.” I was halfway down the stairs to the courtyard when Jor burst through the door.
He dropped the bags he was carrying and slumped back against the door when he saw me. “Thank the Wall.”
Nia and Tass appeared at the top of the stairs behind me.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Nia clutched her apron.
Jor swallowed and gazed at his mother. “The laz ordered the gates closed at dusk.”
“We’ve got to go,” Tass said. “The gates won’t be wide enough if there’s a rush to leave by dusk.”
Jor stood up straight. “A city-wide curfew starts as soon as they’re closed. The streets are full.”
“No time to waste, then. You all go, I’ll get Spiri and meet you outside the south gate.” I started down the stairs.
“Wait. Not the south gate, the east. And you take Jor with you. I’ll get Nia out. Jor, do you remember the way to my wyrcome?”
“I do.”
“We’ll meet there.”
Nia held out her arms and Jor went up the stairs to meet her. “Be safe, my little pompo.” She hugged him with a ferocity that made my heart hurt. “Take care of him, mim.”
“I will.”
Jor and I exited into the courtyard. The conversation went by so fast I hadn’t had time to argue with Tass as he ordered us about, telling me what gate to use, or who would help who. Why had I let him roll over me like that?
Outside the wall of the courtyard, the din of the city raged. Voices, wagons, horses, thumps, bangs, screams. All of them pushed the questions about confronting Tass aside, but it was Spiri who snapped me out of my head. Her ears were forward, eyes wide and she held her head high and stiff. Signs of stress were physically apparent, and her pattern showed how deep it went. “We’re going, now. It’ll be over soon. We just have to make it through a crowd.” I rubbed her neck, and she dipped her head down. I calmly talked to her about what we needed to do, and that we needed to do it fast. Our understanding settled her down, and I sensed her agreement to let Jor ride with me. It was a good thing she liked him.
Jor tacked her up faster and better than I could have under the circumstances. He ran out and opened the gate. While busy, it wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d feared. It let out onto a side street, used by those with houses in the area.
I led her out closer to the gate to minimize the awkwardness, and discomfort, of two riders even if it was just for a short distance.
“We can stick to the side streets until we get close. Hopefully, having a horse will let us get through any crowd.”
I agreed, and we mounted, me in front and Jor, with a thankfully not-yet-man-sized body, behind me. After adjusting to find a balance that worked for Spiri, we left. Even still, I could feel the strain on her.
After the first few turns, we worked out a system where he’d tap my thigh to tell me which direction to go. The path was narrow, with frequent turns. Sounds of chaos grew to almost a thunder when we rounded a corner onto the edge of the east gate courtyard.
A throng of people, packed shoulder to shoulder, lurched back and forth. Near the middle the motion pushed them towards the gate like the trickle of a creek.
Hooves on stone. A deep booming voice. The crack of a whip.
To our left the crowd split open, pressing from the inside out as a carriage, followed by an overburdened wagon, pushed through. Screams erupted from those too slow or weak to get out of the way.
I winced. No one should die that way.
Behind the wagon the crowd filled in again, the first ones there making their way into the tunnel and through the gates before getting stuck in the lurching again.
Spiri pulled back as wave of people pressed into the side street. It ebbed and I urged her to follow. My legs were hit over and over by people and packs but we pushed forward straight for the gate. Jor’s hope that riding would give us an advantage turned out to be in vain. The crowd was too dense, moved to irregularly, to break through it. One woman grabbed hold of my foot and pleaded with me to take their child, already bloodied and bruised.
I looked away.
More yelling to our right and I saw a wagon making a path, ignoring anything in front of it.
“Hold on,” I said to Jor, and released the tension in the reins.
Spiri reared.
People in front of us moved aside.
She rushed forward into the gap and kept going, falling in just behind the wagon. The open ground was littered with bodies, boxes, and spilled supplies. She weaved through them, staying ahead of the horde closing in behind.
The wagon pitched up, twisted.
Spiri jerked to the right as the wagon went left.
A pile of cloth, bone and blood blocked the path.
Jor’s arms locked tighter around my waist. I gripped Spiri with all my strength and held my breath.
We landed hard. Spiri cried out. She bolted forward, through the scattering crowd thinning in front of her.
Next episode on Saturday May 24, 2025.
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