Void's Tale by Christopher Nuttall (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

Chapter Two

“Have you ever been here before?”  Gabby was a sweet little girl, her magic a promise I hoped would flower in time.  “Uncle?”

I kept my face carefully bland.  Gabby and Juliana - her mother - normally travelled alone.  It had been child’s play to enchant them, convincing them I was a very distant relative from a cluster of magical bloodlines linked to their own.  The secret to permanently enchanting someone was to let their own minds fill in the details, to cover any holes before they were ever consciously realised.  It helped that I meant them no harm.  Juliana was a travelling magician, with a speciality in charms.  Her wards would have tried to rebuff me if I’d wanted to do anything beyond hitching a ride.

“No,” I said, honestly.  It felt strange to be called uncle, although it was the custom for distant relatives in the travelling families.  Juliana had convinced herself we were too closely related to be partners, with - I will admit - a little nudge from me.  “But it is a beautiful place.”

I leaned back as the travelling convoy made its way towards Yolanda City, capital of the Principality of Yolanda.  Lord Ashworth had been right to insist the city was really nothing more than a large town, not much bigger than Dragon’s Den.  The Principality of Yolanda itself was small, located within a handful of mountain valleys that could be traversed within a day.  And yet, it was the mountains that made the tiny kingdom so important.  As long as it controlled the passes, it was effectively invulnerable.  I’d read the reports as I’d made my way to the traveller camp.  The king was definitely working a delicate balancing act with the surrounding countries.

The view was gorgeous, I conceded.  Towering mountains, their peaks hidden in the clouds; deep valleys, hidden within the rocks, filled with forests and lakes and wild animals.  The roads were in good condition, better than many.  A kingdom that depended on trade for its wealth couldn’t afford to make life hard for traders.  It was a surprising show of common sense, coming from a monarch.  My experience had taught me that most kings and princes were self-centred assholes.  Earl Bitterhop, who’d suffered a tragic accident not too long ago, had put tariffs on traders to boost his revenues and then wondered where the traders - and his revenues - had gone.

The convoy kept moving up the road, heading to the gates.  Yolanda City seemed to be built into a mountain, the narrowing valley walls sealing off the city on two sides and forcing anyone who wanted to visit to come from one of two directions.  The walls looked almost organic, as if they’d grown out of the mountain.  I was fairly sure someone had used stonecarving magic to build the city, although it was hard to be sure.  It was astonishing what one could find in tiny isolated kingdoms.  A man could spend his entire life travelling, researching techniques unknown in more populated regions.  My brothers and I had talked about it, back when we’d been young and foolish.  There was a part of me that still wanted that life for myself.

My eyes narrowed as I spied a giant statue just outside the gates.  It was carved in the traditional style, making the subject look so muscular he’d probably fall over backwards or collapse under his own weight.  The subject was a young man, with a face so handsome I knew the carver had been given strict orders to blot out all imperfections.  His stone hand rested on a stone sword as he struck a vigilant pose, ready to defend his kingdom against all comers.  I rolled my eyes in disdain.  Anyone who tried to hold that pose for more than a few seconds would be in no state to fight by the time the enemy came into view.  And yet, there were some curious spells woven into the statue ...

Gabby sighed.  “He’s so handsome.”

“He doesn’t look anything like as handsome in real life,” I told her.  King or prince, I didn’t know.  Either way, the statue told a lie.  “Don’t let him trick you into thinking he’s a good guy.”

“No,” Juliana agreed, as she clambered out of the rear of the caravan and took the reins.  “Put not your trust in cityfolk.”

I hid my amusement and settled back to wait.  The travellers were almost brutally honest with one another.  They might drive hard bargains - they haggled amongst themselves as savagely as they haggled with outsiders - but they never pretended to be anything other than what they were.  They kept their word, even when it would be more advantageous to break it; they never lied, not even diplomatic lies.  It often put them at odds with cityfolk.  They often had to lie, cheat and steal to get ahead.  It was no way to live.

“Are you going to be staying here?”  Juliana looked at me.  “Or will you be coming with us further along the road?”

“I don’t know,” I said.  There were limits to how long I could stay.  Juliana might be convinced I was a distant relative, and she was probably glad of an extra pair of skilled hands, but she wouldn’t want me to stay forever.  I understood.  The custom of always welcoming relatives had a few disadvantages.  “It depends on what I find here.”

I closed my mouth as the convoy shuddered to a halt in front of the gates.  There shouldn’t have been more than a couple of guardsmen on duty in peacetime, but I counted seven guards standing by the gatehouse and five more on the battlements overhead.  I was sure there’d be others waiting in the barracks, weapons at hand.  They looked tough and professional, a far cry from the indolent city guardsmen I’d seen elsewhere.  It looked as though the kingdom was preparing for war.  I