I was more than a little apprehensive as we rolled our way through the thick woods. The day passed without incident except for an increase in traffic the further we traveled west. Wagons rolled to and fro with different loads depending on their direction. Many from our direction had loads of wood and stones while those from the city had sacks of flour and other foodstuff.
We crested a short hill a short hour before sunset and found ourselves looking into a bowl-shaped valley. A tall mountain range and a small plateau stood proudly on the opposite side of the bowl. The glistening reflection of two rivers flowed from those hills and through the green plateau where they met in the middle of the basin.
The valley was occupied not only by two rivers but by a bustling city carved from the wild woods. The buildings stood in random clusters as though many villages had been shoved together to create the metropolis. Those structures were primarily made from the surrounding trees and featured high-peaked and thatched roofs. A few paddocks dotted the city, but otherwise, the streets were crowded with a myriad of jumbled roads that wound their way snake-like around what could only be generously described as blocks.
The entirety of the city was surrounded by an earthen wall some twenty feet high and nearly as thick. Trees with sharpened ends had been thrust into the earthworks at every spot save where a watchtower interrupted their vigilant stances. Wolves in full transformation paced the walls.
The shining spot of the whole town, however, was the earthen hill in the center of the metropolis. It was obviously man-made, or werewolf-made, in this case, for the rest of the area crowded about its foothills without any hint of a slope. A large mansion of wood stood atop the flat top of the hill and was only accessed via a single straight ramp that led up to an impressive stone gate. The whole top was surrounded by a high wall of stacked boulders that perfectly fitted together to create an impenetrable fortress. I could just make out a longhouse-like structure in the center with a barn and a paddock adjoining one wall of the building.
Patrick turned his head far enough to catch our eyes. “Where would you like me to drop you off?”
“To the Torc Fiain, if that wouldn’t be any trouble,” Tegan told him.
Our driver lifted an eyebrow. “That’s quite a house, but I suppose the tales about dragon hoards are true.” And with that, he returned to his driving, especially as the flow of wagons, horsemen, and pedestrians had increased.
I caught Tegan’s eye. “We’re staying at the whatsit?”
He smiled at me. “Torc Fiain. It means ‘wild board’ in the local language and is one of the oldest inns in the city. The manager is a friend of mine.”
I nodded at Patrick’s back. “And I’m guessing it’s pretty spendy to stay there.”
Tegan rocked his head from side to side. “It can be provided you have an empty purse, but my purse still has a few coins left.”
I looked him over. “I’ve never seen a purse on you.”
His eyes twinkled as he pressed a finger to his lips. “The roads have ears as well as eyes.”
I couldn’t blame him. The place had become a mecca of madness as carts, wagons, and horsemen vied for the limited room on the road. Everyone traveling in our direction wanted through one of twelve gates that were the only access through the earthen defenses. The gates had thick wooden gates that were currently open, but I couldn’t imagine anything shy of an earthworm wiggling its way through those lashed-together logs.
A dozen transformed guards lined either side of the street and watched traffic move with their sharp, golden eyes. Sometimes they stopped a wagon and searched the contents before allowing them passage.
“Security seems to be greater than last I came through,” Tegan mused.
Patrick nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing, and it’s only been two moons since I was last here.”
We rolled past the prying eyes of the guards and into the hubbub that was the werewolf capital. Most of the citizens appeared to be human, but every now and again somebody would saunter or drive past who had a stone around their neck and fur covering their body. A large town square was the focal point of the city where vendors sold their goods and people passed on their gossip for free. Shops and houses, all two floors or more, lined the edges and elegant balconies filled with flowers overlooked the goings on.
The water from a large pool in the center flowed down a sluice where women did their laundry upstream of animals partaking of a drink before the liquid dipped below ground, no doubt to rejoin the waters of the joined rivers. A heady scent of the flowing waters hung in the air as Patrick drove us onto a street just off the square.
The second street had more of a mishmash of buildings, with some being shorter and others taller. There were fewer balconies but what the street lacked for elegance it made up for in drink. That is, most of the buildings on this street were pubs and they were doing a brisk business as we rolled through the throngs of happy people who had dipped into the mug early.
Patrick turned onto a narrow side street which led to a large courtyard tucked into the middle of the block. A large livery rose in front of us and to our left was a clean rear entrance to a three-floor structure. A sign hung over the heavy door.
“Torc Fiain,” I read aloud.
Tegan’s eyes twinkled at me. “A name that humbles even some of the nobility by age. They have a very good knack for preparing their namesake, courtesy of centuries of practice.”
Patrick turned the wagon in a circle and parked it in front of the door. “Were you needing anything else?” he asked us as Tegan helped me down.
Tegan plucked his coat and basket out of the bed before he smiled up at our driver. “You’ve given us more than enough help and we thank you for it.”
Patrick tightened his grip on the reins and shook his head. “I owe you more than I could ever repay. If you need anything don’t hesitate to call on me.” And with that promise, Patrick cracked the reins and rolled out of sight.
Twilight was now well upon us as we moved over to the door. Tegan pounded hard on the wood and the sound echoed down a hall. “Open up!”
Heavy footsteps were his reply and a couple of heavy bolts were removed before the door opened. A man of huge stature blocked the door. He was well over six feet with a broad chest to match. The man had a full red beard on his face and worn thick fingers on his hands. He wore a plain but clean shirt with heavy pants, and boots had made the pounding on the wooden floorboards.
His bushy eyebrows crashed down as he looked us over, especially when his attention fell on Tegan. He narrowed his eyes. “You.”
Tegan opened his arms and grinned at the man. “Me.”
A broad smile stretched across the man’s face and he leapt forward with more elegance than I would have given him credit. He swept Tegan into a bone-crushing hug. “You fool!”
“You oaf,” Tegan managed to wheeze out.
The man set him down and clapped his hands on Tegan’s shoulders as he looked him over. “I thought you’d been lost at sea!”
Tegan looked down at himself. “I make a fantastically handsome ghost, don’t I?”
The man let out a great guffaw. “Always with the modesty!” His attention finally fell on me and he lifted an eyebrow. “And who have we here? Surely not a companion of yours. She’s far too pretty for that.”
A blush accented my cheeks as Tegan puffed out his chest a little. “She is indeed my companion.” Tegan stepped back out of his friend’s grasp and gestured to me. “Miss Kate, may I introduce you to Brody MacAlistair, one of the finest innkeepers in all the land.”
“In the whole of the continent,” MacAlistair countered as he stepped forward and grasped one of my hands in his huge palm. He planted a delicate kiss on the back as he smiled at me. “And the pleasure is all mine, Miss Kate.”
I grinned. “Just Kate.”
“And it’s always MacAlistair,” Tegan spoke up as he clapped a hand on MacAlistair’s back. The man didn’t even flinch. “What say you to two of your finest rooms?”
MacAlistair turned to Tegan and held out his hand. “I’d say I’ll see your coin first.”
Tegan feigned shock mixed with hurt. “You think me so dishonest that-”
“You still owe me from your last visit, especially when you started that fight that broke a dozen tables and twice that many chairs, and then you ran out without paying your bill,” MacAlistair countered.
Tegan gave him a sheepish grin. “Did I?”
MacAlistair nodded. “You did.”