The group of travellers prepare to leave the village the next morning, accompanied now by Jaldaric, but without Kylar, who won't be fit to travel for several days yet.
"I sent a message to Ardeth yesterday, as soon as you arrived", Jathren announces, "From there, someone will get word to the city, and with any luck they'll be able to meet us, so we won't have to walk all the way".
It soon becomes apparent that they're going to be accompanied by a quite a few villagers. It looks like a trade caravan being readied; several pack beasts being loaded up with a variety of trade goods, including presumably some of that honey beer. To Roy's and Hank's eyes these are strange creatures, part donkey, part baby elephant, and a definite hint of pig.
Hank says his goodbyes to the villagers he spoke to, and stops to talk to Kylar, for a while. Kylar tells him he expects to reach the city as soon as he's fit to travel.
Roy takes a strong interest in the pack animals and watches closely as they're being loaded up. He asks a local "What are these animals called?"
"Zarandar", comes the reply.
Roy follows that up with a host of other questions, such as "What do they eat? How much of it? How often do they need waterin'? How fast do they haul?". He's told that they prefer leaves from wide variety of trees, but will eat just about any vegetable matter. They also drink a lot of water, and aren't good in arid areas. The interrogation victim gets away from him before he gets any more answers; he's a busy man who has a lot to do before they set out.
Hank is sharp and businesslike, lending a hand to those who need it, so the group can get on the road in short order, helping stragglers along, assisting pack-masters, etc. He listens to Roy's Q&As about the creatures- he's got some Agronomy experience, but he defers to Roy's knowledge as an animal-handler...
They follow a meandering trail through wooded hills for most of the morning, breaking for a midday meal of dark bread, dried meat and fruit. Again, neither the fruit nor the meat are totally familiar to the two men from Earth; the meat lasts vaguely beef-like, and the fruit is sweet if a little hard.
The meat Roy is careful not to ask about.
Hank eats the local food, but also offers around a little of what rations he has left.
Roy realises quite quickly that those rations don't include anything to smoke? Roy's still got about half a pack, but he realized (this morning!) that he'll have to hoard them.
" 'Fraid not- I never got the habit", Hank says. He leans in. "I've got a bottle of Southern Comfort, though- I'll split it with you, seeing as you're the only one... ANYWHERE, here- who'd appreciate it..."
"Thanks. Maybe we'd better save it for a special occasion.", Roy replies.
This is not the same route the party had used on the way out just a few days earlier. Not long after the meal break the trail reaches a swift-flowing river, and turns south along the bank of the river until it reaches a bridge.
The bridge is made of the same strange hard substance that formed the mysterious towers. A single graceful span of fifty feet crosses the river; since there is no guardrail the party of travellers cross in single file along the centre line of the bridge.
Hank takes an Engineer's interest in the construction and materials of the bridge. It looks to be from a level of technology much higher than the crude houses of the village. It may even be a relic of that Golden Empire the locals talked about the previous evening, which implies a materials science capable of building structures that last many hundreds of years with apparently no maintenance.
The trail continues on, following the river downstream on the opposite bank
Dharak spends the trip plying the newcomers with questions about their home world -- countries, technologies, animals, religion. It seems he wants to know everything. He happily answers any of their questions -- lacing his replies with scathing denunciations of Kandar society and its enslavement of humans and other races. He also tries out a little bit of the Old Tongue he knows on them. Based on the fragmentary documents he learned it from, he thinks it's called Ladyn.
"The enslavement... is it something that can be bought-out of? Or is it like a caste?", Hank asks.
"This man is exaggerating just a little", Jathren says, "By no means all humans are slaves. I am no slave. Neither is Reylorna. We humans cannot join the Kandar's noble caste, but we may rise to senior positions in the guild. At least in the north. He says no more, but the implication is that things are different elsewhere in Kalyr.
Hank replies as best he can, continuing to 'trade' answers for questions of his own. As for any 'Old Tongue', he is only able to recognize Latin, not speak it. Some of the phrases Dharak tries on him sound vaguely Latin-like, but might equally be Portuguese or Italian.
"Roy and myself are from the United States of America...", Hank outlines the nations as he knew them, at the time he left Hank is from a region called something like Mishgin, while Roy is from someplace else. Tek'hsis, or something- they are, it seems, far from each other.
He seems wistful, describing Earth. It sounds like he misses it a lot...
He explains that, before his 'abduction', he was on some kind of pilgrimage-he was, to use an odd phrase 'trying to find himself' by hiking down an oddly-named, hundreds of miles-long trail. This explains why he was in full pack and gear when he arrived on Kalyr.
Before the Mirror incident, Hank had recently finished a hitch with something called the "Peace Corps", as a sort of educator/engineer/agronomist, in aid of a country less-advanced than his own. He is happy to talk shop... some of what he's describing seems impossible, but he says it with total sincerity...
He asks some questions about Kalyrian technology. Mainly, they're general questions about the level of advancement... he seems to be trying to work something out.
The impression he gets from Jathren is that the basic level of technology is quite low, with the possible exceptions of medicine and agriculture, but items of a much more advanced nature are available in restricted amounts. The principles by which many of them work don't seem to be fully understood. Or it might just be that Jathren isn't enough of a techie.
"I know some biology, and I rode horses a bit, but I think Roy would be the guy to talk to about animals..."
"What's an 'aws'?", asks Jathren, "Some riding beast of Merka?".
Hank describes something quadripedal and custom-bred for different tasks: Ploughing, racing, even warfare "in olden days".
Jathren tells him there are two riding beasts in Kalyr, these zarandar, which are slow but reliable, and something called a 'yakka', a bipedal creature that sounds from Jathren's description to resemble something like a furry ostrich. "They run like the wind, but they can be dangerous", Jathren warns him, "A kick from one can disembowel a careless handler".
Hank looks somewhat stunned by this.
"Raised Lutheran, but I, um, dabbled in Zen a little, in college...". Hank goes on to tell what he can about Earth religions... "You?"
"My own faith is a private matter", Jathren says, "I respect the power of the Guardians, but do not choose worship them. They are for the kandar".
Hank asks, here, about the types of religion on Kalyr; he seems unclear about whether Guardians are some sort of high acolyte, or supernatural beings...he also seems interested in how the faiths relate to each other, how much tolerance between them.
Duplar answers at least some of his questions.
"Speaking from personal experience, I believe the Guardians do exist", Duplar says, "When the guildmaster was taken very ill I had to use a device which enabled my mind to contact another guildhouse. In doing so I encountered a being which I presume was a Guardian. I know nothing as to its nature, nor did the realm where I encountered it make any sense to me. I realise this doesn't help much, but before this I was never one for going to the temples and now I think they at least started out with some real truth behind them".
Hank still has more questions.
"Soon after I got here, there was a kind of voice... in my head. Back home, they'd say I was cracking up... was it some kind of psychic thing?" (if so:"Is there any way to block it? I HATED it...")
"I know people who would say it is impossible for a human to receive a telepathic message as you seem to be describing", Duplar answers, "Apprentice Reylorna is proof that humans can have skills which are the domain of the Academy. There are methods to block such, but none are perfect. What did this voice say?"
"It was in the caves... it urged me- all of us, really, to go a certain way, to safety", Hank says, 'Tactical withdrawal'- that's it..."
Hank lowers his voice a little, and says: "What do we do, now? I must admit, I'm with your party because you are all the people I _know_ on this world... I heard something about some kind of Guild... do you think I should, I dunno, register, or something?"
Jathren gives a puzzled look that suggests he hadn't even considered this question.
"Just about everyone in the guild was an apprentice when young", he says, "It is very rare for someone to join as an adult. But it is even more rare for people to appear in Kalyr out of nowhere complete with technical skills".
"So, what then? If 'wildcatting' were an option, someone would be doing it... I've seen things I can help with. Even if there's a way home, I don't want to waste my time here, or my training".
"Well, we shall have to wait and see, when we reach the city", Jathren replies.
Come late afternoon the forest ends abruptly. Ahead stretches cultivated land which stretches right up to grey hills on the horizon. Buildings can be seen dotted around, and a wagon drawn by a pair of large shaggy creatures moves slowly along a road on the other side of the river. Much of the land is dedicated to crops, but animals graze on the pastures closest to the river; some large hairy cattle-like creatures, and some smaller ones resembling nothing other than gigantic rabbits.
Hank takes a Civil Engineer's interest in the irrigation and structure of the farms they pass, and just generally tries to apply a skilled eye to what he's seeing. The irrigation systems show some technology more advanced that he'd seen in the village; they pass close to a set of sluice gates that seem to be automatically controlled.
Jathren notices his interest
"That's our control equipment", he says, "They let one man control the water levels in all the channels in this area".
"Ardeth lies over the ridge, beyond the bend in the river", he continues, "It is where we part company with our friends from the village, and where we hopefully will obtain transport into the city".
"What sort of transport?", Hank asks.
"One of our power waggons, I hope", Jathren tells him.
They proceed into the village proper. Ardeth lacks the protective stockade of Haven, and most of the buildings are of more substantial stone construction, although some are of brick, and many have timber upper floors. There aren't many people about, a few locals lounge about outside what might some kind of inn.
Jathen was right about transport. In the centre of the village stands an large eight-wheeled vehicle. The lack of harnesses on the front indicates that it's not designed to be drawn by animals.
"They've got cars?", Roy says, "And we've been hiking all over the place? What the hell was that all about?"
"Ah, yes, but we were up in the mountains!", says Ryzar, "A wilderness area, not at all what the Kandar would call 'Civilization'".
He looks again at the large vehicle, and shudders visibly, "Though I can understand why only the Kandar would want to build and ride in such contrivances. It seems unnatural, to my Human eye".
"Yeah, SUVs suck." Hank jokes, in Roy's direction.
"Once there were many powerwagons and the fabricating of their engines was considered quite natural", Duplar says, "But I do not remember a new one engine being constructed. My guild has always fitted an engine from elsewhere into a new body"
In a more hushed, serious tone, Hank asks Roy: "D'you ever do mechanic work, back home?"
"Not so's you'd notice," Roy answers. "Put in a radiator on a truck once, and did my brakes a couple times. Don't think I could build an engine."
"We study", Duplar contines, "We hope to regain lost techniques, but the more we learn the more dangers we find. This is why the Guild keeps its secrets. Think! Would the world really be a better place if everyone was trying to make their own flamelances? We would have a lot of places burning down if they tried. It is safer for everyone that people don't even know enough to try.
"Until recently, I reckoned Guild Security was actually a safer line of work than being in the workshops".
"You exaggerate", Jathren says, "We have very few accidents in the workshops. And we do lose field agents from time to time. I nearly got myself burned to death once. And then there was the team that manage to blow up the flour mill in Ford.
* * * *
They part company with the traders from the village, who greet another group travellers who seem to have been expecting them. Jathren explains they're group from Guild of Merchants from the city, who have a trade agreement with the 'outsiders'.
Everyone climbs aboard the power waggon. Inside there are wooden benches with leather padding; it's surprisingly comfortable until the vehicle starts to move, at which point it becomes apparent that the suspension is less than Rolls-Royce in quality. From the sound of the motors, it appears to be electrically powered; there's certainly no throb of any kind of internal combustion engine, or any hissing steam. It trundles at modest speed along a road upon an elevated embankment through farmland crisscrossed by irrigation channels. There is quite a bit of other traffic on the road, but no other powered vehicles; massive carts drawn by teams of six or even eight ox-like creatures with shaggy red hair, humans and kandar riding zarandar, a large troop of what look like soldiers on foot, and a man riding a bipedal creature with golden-coloured fur.
The road eventually runs alongside what is clearly a major river. The flat farmland gives way to rolling hills which soon crowd the river to produce quite a narrow gorge, the sides quite heavily wooded. Occasionally buildings can be glimpsed poking through the woods; some look like rich mansions, others resemble ruined fortifications.
At a bend in the river, a massive stone wall completely cuts off a side valley, it's top level with the top of the gorge. It's pierced by three arches, two smaller ones for road traffic, and a massive central one spanning the tributary, possibly for river traffic. Figures, perhaps soldiers, stand guard on the top of the wall, and by the arches. The scale of the construction makes them look like ants.
"The City of Calbeyn", Jathren says.
Hank has been taking notes like crazy during this part of the trip, writing and pencilling small diagrams in a journal he takes from his pack. The size of the City walls impresses him, clearly; nothing he has so far seen has been built on anything like this scale.
The power waggon slows as it approaches the nearest archway. The soldiers guarding the entrance to the city step aside, and the vehicle enters the tunnel through the tunnel at walking pace. Clearances are tight, and presumably the driver doesn't want to scrape the walls.
When it emerges the exit, the city is spread out in front of the travellers. It extends along a narrow gorge and up the sides, with many building built into the cliffs. There's a mix of architectural styles, most buildings squarish, with a few spires and domes. Most buildings seem to be built of stone. Many are either whitewashed or painted in various colours, mostly creams and pinks. In the distance a graceful arched viaduct crosses the valley. It's also a grey-pink in colour.
There are many people about, mostly kandar but a smattering of humans. The dress styles vary a lot; some, especially the humans, wear tough work clothes in dull greens and browns, others wear colourful costumes in bright oranges, blues and greens.
The lower part of the city contains an expanse of water; clearly a harbour, as several barges are visible. It's not clear how these are propelled; there are no masts or oars. High above them on the left hand side is an ornate domed building, which to Roy and Hank resembles a mosque. At the highest point on the dome is what looks remarkably like a satellite dish.
The power waggon slowly manoeuvres round the harbour, past large openings in the cliff sealed by heavy wooden doors. The doors of one stand open, to reveal a cavern stacked with crates, barrels and bales.
The vehicle turns into a second such doorway, and comes to a halt inside a large cavern. As it enters, Dharak taps both of the newcomers on their respective shoulders. He then mindspeaks to them:
"A warning, brothers: Remember that all Kandar in this world are not as accepting of our people as are Duplar and Kylar. Nearly all of them are racist, Kandar-supremacists -- it's just a question of degree. These Karazthan aren't as bad as some -- Jathren seems to be a person of some importance in their organization. But Kandar the ones who really pull the strings."
"Be wary: They will want to exploit your technical knowledge -- and you might be able to use that as a bargaining chip to eventually gain access to another mirror and get home. Though I gather that the one you came through was the first functioning mirror any of this lot have seen in their lifetimes. Just remember who your friends are, and don't easily give your trust to anyone, human or Kandar."
Roy's neck hair stands up as he hears the eerie voice in his head. He starts to pull away from Dharak, but when he realizes the content of the message, he 'listens' through to the end. Not looking at Dharak, he gives a very slight nod.
Hank, for the second time, has a very bad reaction to Mindspeech...
.oO(AA! Getoutgetoutgetou~!)
...before getting a handle on himself.
The idea of someone reading the info right out of his mind worries Hank immensely- especially since Dharak just confirmed his suspicion that information may be what keeps him alive.
He doesn't even nod, he just thinks an acknowledgement.
The cavern is artificially-lit with huge glowing lamps in the ceiling, and seems a hive of activity, with well over a dozen people present, both kandar and human. There's another power waggon, party in bits as if stripped down for overhaul, with several men and women examining scattered components Others are huddled over workbenches, assembling machines of unknown purposes.
Waiting to meet the arrivals is a slightly overweight Kandar, with grey-black hair and a bushy grey beard, dressed in scruffy overalls. Next to him stands a stern-faced kandar woman.
"Jathren, you've returned", says the man, as Jathren steps down from the waggon, beckoning the others to do the same.
"Stating the obvious, Galtheyn", Jathren replies, "We lost one of the mercenaries. And the legionnaire is broken but repairable. He'll return to the city when fit to travel".
"Well, what did you find?", Galtheyn asks.
"A mirror", Jathren replies, "But I wasn't there in person. You'll have to speak to the others".
"I want a full debriefing as soon as possible", demands the woman, in heavily accented speech that suggests that Mannish is not her first language.
Dharak inclines his head slightly at the two Kandar authority figures.
"And, as you can see, your little mission picked up a few recruits along the way. I am Dharak, a teacher of my people, and aided your agents of my own choosing. I'll gladly tell you about our experiences, and as for compensation..." he pulls his cloak aside to reveal the energy weapon on his belt. "This should do nicely".
Galtheyn's eyes widen.
"There will be plenty of time to discuss compensation", the woman replies. Something in her manner suggests that her idea of fair compensation and Dharak's might not quite correspond.
Though he has been among Karazthani before, this time Ryzar remains silent. After stepping down from the waggon, he remains close to Reylorna -- in a bodyguard-like fashion.
It is Duplar who speaks next. "Ma'am, am I to understand you are the acting guildmaster?", He says.
"That is indeed the case", she replies, "My name is Kala d'n Konyen; I have been sent here upriver from Keylin. While Askardath remains indisposed, I am going to be in charge. Thereafter, I will be head of security, to replace Kurluis Zavan, who died in the tentacles of that creature which irrupted into the workshops".
"Then Askardath still lives?", Jathren says, "When we left, his life was still in the balance".
"Yes, but only just", she replies, "He is still in a deep coma. He's in the care of the Priestesses of Valarna. The tell me they believe he will wake; the foretellers of the Mind Tower tell me much the same".
"I am of course at the Guild's service", Duplar says, "but I rather feel we should ask these travellers for their stories than demand anything".
"Of course", she says, "I am not proposing that we have the wizard mind-ream them. And since you've all travelled a long distance, 'as soon as possible' does not preclude the travellers being shown to the guest accomodation upstairs to rest, and to take a meal in the refectory before they tell us their stories".
"Galtheyn", she orders her colleague, "Will you show them to the guest rooms?"
She takes Duplar and Jathren aside. "That 'teacher' I do not trust", she tells them, "I'm instructing security to watch him like a hawk. And he is not to be permitted to retain that forbidden weapon".
Hank rounds up his own pack and gear, politely (but FIRMLY) declining any offer to carry, clean, sort, 'see to' or otherwise separate him from it.
Likewise, while he isn't very fond of the beam weapon he was given, he isn't blind- it's something of great value, and he won't just give it away, at this point.