Another crowded city. Always a crowded city. He hated them. Too many people bumping into one another. Cries of frustration, pleads to purchase wares, wails of whining children. All noise. Too much of it. Manure and mud covered the streets, caking a man’s feet with filth. Shadows at every corner with sneaky eyes seeking what was not theirs. Unsuspecting men lose their lives every day. Somehow, that did not turn newcomers aside. One gets buried; two more take his place. From high above, he shuddered as he looked out on the goings-on. Living here must be unbearable, he thought.

  Give him the countryside any day, a place where a man can ride for days without seeing a soul. With a rake, shovel, and plow, he could work land that was all his own. Pouring his sweat and blood onto the ground, his crops grew, feeding him and his family. A man could live and die in peace. What more could a man want? Surely, that was how the gods meant for mortals to live. They could not have wanted this madness. As the voices from below filled his ears, his heart longed for his little patch of heaven.

  “Is the city to your satisfaction, Milord Heiko?” the captain asked, joining him on the balcony. A bright red angel flashed on his right shoulder. The sigil of the royal house. He left his shiny helm inside, revealing long dark hair. The man wore silver chainmail with a long cloth shirt and leather breeches. Hot clothing for this time of year, but a man in authority needed to radiate importance. Besides, that sigil came with certain expectations. No one wanted to see what happened to those that could not uphold them.

  The captain leaned against the stone rail, eyeing his guest. Heiko hid his grin. He knew when a man was sizing him up. Few had the skill to hide it. The captain, Martin by name, was no better at it than any lesser man. This was his city. He needed to know what kind of man he dealt with. Besides, one could not afford to go on a man’s reputation alone. After all, if his reputation was to be believed, the captain was a sound fellow, strong upper lip and loyal to a fault. Heiko had met others with the same pedigree, all revealed to have much weaker characters.

  It is not the nature of my soul you should concern yourself with, he thought under the captain’s suspicious gaze. “No city is to my liking,” he admitted, knowing that his manners were of little consequence. Every captain had to humor him. Another expectation of the angel. To offend one’s betters forfeits one’s life.

  “Quite right sir,” came the ready response. “A man’s soul belongs with the gods. All else is frivolity.” He gestured down the main street. Dark stone buildings stood on either side of the road. They sat in the shadow of a large temple carved from granite. There were few like it in the world. It was larger than the captain’s abode, which was an estate that left some lord’s green with envy. Large stone women served as the pillars, holding the slab roof. Each was a great goddess, a symbol that none of these powerful goddesses were more important than another. All served to uphold the world’s order. At their feet, smaller statues of lesser goddesses bowed, their hands outstretched. Worshippers knelt in the smaller palms before these statues, beseeching their good graces.

  Heiko had been inside the temple once. At the center of the audience hall sat a gargantuan statue of Nurtia, goddess of fate. Her stone body, carved from a slab of marble, sat draped in onyx robes. To see the innermost parts of fate was a punishable crime. Her stone eyes remained closed, dreaming of the future. Driven into the walls were countless nails, marking each year since time’s beginning. Wonder if anyone has tried numbering them? It’d be a pity if they had too many or not enough, he wondered.

  “Anyone tell you the story of how this city came about?”

  “No,” he answered. But I am sure you will tell me.

  “My forefathers met an oracle of Nurtia on a byway. They were ragged and weary, sojourning for a land of their own. She prophesied that they would find a land of black rock in the south. It was there they would make their mark. With no other signs, they took her advice. Sure enough, they came here and knew this was what she spoke of. At the city’s founding, they ordered a temple be made, so they could honor the oracle and her goddess.” He paused, waiting for a response. Heiko gave none. He had little interest in another man’s pitiful lineage nor a temple’s story. All that interested Heiko were the old crone’s words. Words only he knew.

  “At the temple’s completion, they sought out the oracle, so she could partake of their bounty. They did not find her. The city wept, but on the eve of their lamentation, a young woman appeared before the temple. She swore the old oracle sent her to serve as their prophetess, for she too served the goddess of fate. From that day, Nurtia’s temple had a serving oracle, guiding the people in the ways they should go.” He smiled at the tale’s ending. “Story goes that there was a yearlong celebration after the temple’s completion,” he continued. Looking down, he shook his head. “I could not imagine doing that today. Too much riffraff to keep in check. The oracle is hard enough to guard. I would need ten times the soldiers and lock the city gates at all times of the day. All newcomers would have to be treated as enemies of the empire. A harder matter would be maintaining enough food and drink for an entire city. Our treasurer would die if I even suggested such a thing.”

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  Growing tired of his prattling, Heiko pushed away from the balcony. He was not here to listen to past accomplishments or longing for celebration. The empire had little time for these trivial matters and Heiko had less. He had a task to fulfill, one that required the cities he despised. To complete his mission, there were few better places to visit. Though the roads were free, many eyes watched them. It was impossible to go unnoticed. Mankind had filled the world with their offspring. Even if one fell into the depths of a forgotten cave, it would not go unnoticed for long. It was surprising how much someone could learn with the right coin and questions.

  “If you wish to disturb my solitude, you must have something to report,” Heiko assumed, stepping inside his temporary quarters. “Tell me. How is the investigation?”

  There was a faked heaviness in the captain’s voice. “I regret that nothing is uncovered as of yet.” At this, Heiko considered laughing in his face. He knew better. Did the foolish captain take him for a fool? He was not the first man to impede his progress.

  “A pity,” he muttered in return. Few men of once freed cities wished to help part of the imperialist hand that subjugated them. It was of little importance when the conquest happened. Whether fifty years or twenty days ago, it was as if it happened yesterday to them. Despite this, they wore fake smiles and nodded to his requests. As long as he stayed on the estate, they would play along, pretending to bow to his will. All the while, they found slight ways to interfere.

  Heiko knew the purpose of the captain’s visit. It was from his exploits two nights ago. He slipped out late at night, wandering the streets in search of answers. In a city this size, there were plenty of stones to uncover and the worms were waiting for the taking. He uncovered more in two hours than his allies had all week. A shrouded man could learn a man’s darkest secrets in the moonlight. There were plenty of juicy tales to sink his teeth into.

  He kept a low profile. If he made the worms wiggle too much, a clear trail would follow him. With the captain paying a visit, Heiko had not muddied the trail enough. Still, he expected the watchful eyes to fall on him sooner than this. They lack vigilance, he mused with a faint smile as he strode across his lavish room.

  Officials in the southern cities lived the life of princes. His borrowed quarters, a spare room amongst many, had a plush mattress and feather pillows. The colors were vibrant shades of green. A lion’s skin laid strewn on the wall, fur dark as mud. Candelabras were posted across the room, giving sufficient light long into the night. Well-watered plants littered the corners. Sweet fragrances whiffed around the room; they did nothing to wash the city’s appalling stench from his nostrils.

  “Sir, I believe it is time we moved on to greener pastures,” an older gentleman called. He sat at a table across from the bed. Every piece of furniture was made of fine oak from the east. The man’s slim fingers plucked another pastry off the platter, which their hosts filled with fresh food every hour. Shaven whiskers laid beneath his nostrils. His feet were bare, along with his sagging chest and plump stomach. The sole garment covering his nakedness was a silken robe.

  “You have said this since entering the city, Lord Darius,” Martin addressed with a courteous laugh. “One might believe you despise our city as much as your charge.”

  Old Darius waved the comment aside. “Far from it. The southern cities are much to my liking. Warm sun for old, chilled blood. Beautiful women to relieve the weary eyes. I will forgo worshipping the horn of plenty, overflowing with its succulent dishes. Rest assured, entire chronicles should be attributed to the greatness of such cities.”

  “Then I insist you stay,” their host bellowed with a warm laugh. “No need to deprive a man of what he most desires.” Heiko noted the empty offer as he did all the others. No man wanted them within their cities. From the moment they entered, searching eyes observed their every footstep. That was why they received a choice room in the captain’s palace. Never allow the cunning lynx the chance to hide amongst the thorns.

  “You misunderstand the importance of my mission.” Darius stifled a belch after partaking of the pastry. “As a peacekeeper of the King, I have to see that his law and order is upheld across the kingdom. Whatever province I enter, I must meet the lords and ladies, captains and admirals, dukes and duchesses. They must show me what they have done for my Master. I have to see the proper tribute met. Are the citizens honoring the proper gods? Do they know they live because their king wishes it?”

  “Your task speaks volumes of the King’s trust,” Martin considered, sitting across from him in a fine carved chair. Heiko remained on his feet. He would not be lulled into becoming a sluggard.

  “Too true,” Darius crowed, bits of his various meals clung to his short stubble. “You should see the lot of hens shadowing the King’s every step. They hang onto his every word and worship the dirt between his toes. Each one lusts to find his favor. There was a great weeping and gnashing of teeth when he chose his peacekeepers.”

  The old braggart took too much pride in his position. Heiko never said so. If there was one man he had to placate, it was this doddering fool; a task that grew more wearisome by the day. Many men long to serve the peacekeepers, being the swords that kept the King’s peace. It was an honor just short of being the peacekeeper. If Darius found displeasure in him, Heiko would walk back to the Great City where his Majesty’s wrath would await. For now, he held his tongue and served as the obedient blade. There was a time for everything under the sun. His time was approaching.