“Hammerdown is not just a place for the opportunistic, it is also a place for the desperate. Sadly, these two kinds of people go rather well together.” - Ouza, Deckhand

  ~*~

  “Your time is coming.”

  “Who…who is there?”

  “You should recognize my voice, brother. Look out for a girl bearing my mark, she will bring an end to this suffering.”

  “Nef? Wait….wait! How are you…Nef?”

  ~*~

  The next morning, the group split up to search Hammerdown. Athia would go to the shipyard, and walk amongst the sailors, dock workers, and captains. Basim would go to the West side, where most laborers would work, and maybe provide information that might be useful. Abasi would go to the East, where the rich were, and start narrowing down people and names.

  As for Bayek, he was assigned the center and entrance areas. It was where most trades were being done, so perhaps he might learn a thing or two from the merchants.

  ~*~

  The coast, even in the warm morning light, still sent a chill through the air along with a sea spray. It was one of the reasons Basim wanted to avoid that side of town, but Athia was all too happy to get closer to the ocean.

  “Bayek was right,” Athia thought. “Despite what he told me about sea monsters, its beauty cannot be compared to anything else.”

  Like the desert, Athia saw limitless opportunity and adventure when she looked out across the sea. It made sense to her why the Sultan would cross it to the Other Lands, why many captains stared at it fondly even after many hard years at sea. Athia could have stood there all day, leaning against crates and marveling at the ocean.

  The way it warped the morning light, the bracing breeze that filled her lungs far more refreshingly than the desert air. The thought of the many sea creatures she had seen on display in Hammerdown, swimming below the surface. A different world from the one she had known.

  When the crates started to shake, it brought her back to reality.

  One crate seemed to rock back and forth, growling at Athia with a scary amount of ferocity. When she lowered herself to look between the slats, she could see some sort of creature in the light that slipped through the cracks. It kept circling, so it was hard to get a shape in her head of what it was. Eventually, she understood it to be some kind of leopard, yet not spotted like the ones most royalty liked to keep.

  The leopard was larger, black from nose to tail and its eyes were a startling green.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice said beside her. “But I wouldn’t get too close, it will sneak a paw out and scratch you if you’re not careful.”

  Athia was so caught up in studying the creature she completely forgot about her surroundings, allowing a skinny, old, and incredibly pale man to walk up beside her. She found him just as curious to look at, with skin almost as white as his whiskers and so skinny that it was a wonder the wind coming off the ocean didn’t topple him over. He wore pieces of shaped glass, bound by thin metal, on his bizarre nose. The old man eventually looked away from the creature to see Athia’s look of wonder.

  “You know it’s not nice to stare,” the man said grumpily.

  “I-I’m sorry,” Athia said, returning her eyes to the big cat. “Is it yours?”

  “I wish,” he said sadly. “W-Well, actually I don’t, but…I was planning to study him a lot more before the captain sold him to a prince. I couldn’t learn much from peering into its frightfully small cage. Then again, I’m sure any size cage that fits on a ship is still too small for this noble creature.”

  “I’ve never seen leopards like this...I can see why a prince would want one.”

  “It’s not a common leopard, it’s a black panther. Stronger, fiercer, and infinitely more prideful. It’s a superior beast when free and it is most aware of this.”

  “Reminds me of a friend of mine,” Athia smiled. “Just as dangerous…maybe more so. But he’s doing better now.”

  “Well…quite. I’m Walter Cooke, by the way,” the old man introduced himself, placing a hand over his heart and giving a small bow. “Explorer, cartographer, and occasional hunter.”

  “Athia, just Athia,” Athia justly said.

  “Yes, I am familiar with your mononymous culture,” Walter smiled. “I have visited the Everlasting Desert often, though I never traveled too far from Hammerdown before it was time to return home.”

  “You’re from the Other Lands,” Athia said. “Of course, the way you...speak...is very different.”

  “Too noble?”

  “Too nervous,” Athia thought.

  “That must be it,” Athia said aloud, before looking back at the panther. “Your captain must have made a lot of money from him.”

  “Ah, Captain Khaa! I should think so, she is the most reputable captain in this port, the next and doubtless many others she visited before she and I became friends,” Walter said simply. “She has one of the finest ships in the harbor, I should say as well. The Laughing Lynx. We brought some cargo here for a local merchant, Khnem, who knows where the money is and, thus, where the most excitement is as well. No doubt Khnem was the one who sold this magnificent creature.”

  Walter pointed out Captain Khaa, who stood with her back to them, looking out towards the sea. He then pointed out the merchant Khnem to Athia. Although he stood on his ship a distance away, Athia saw that he was a tall man in splendid robes of deep green, edged with an almost gold-like orange. His attention was on the cargo the men carried ashore, noting them down on the parchment in his hand with a greedy smile.

  ~*~

  Basim wandered through what could be considered the slums. Enough time had passed since dawn for the workers to leave for their jobs in the harbor, the market, or in the upper-class district. Yet, what remained were those too weak or old to do anything besides watch over children, manage their own small businesses, or simply beg for coins.

  No matter which city or growing oasis you went to, there was always an ever-expanding poor district.

  Yet, that is not to say there weren’t skilled individuals among them. Basim had properly stowed his money pouch and blade, ensuring that even the best pickpocket would struggle to rob him. As for con artists, Basim could spot a few with so few scruples they didn’t mind robbing those poorer than them.

  Basim made himself busy searching for people who were familiar with the city, who had eyes and ears tuned for those who had money. In short, Basim searched for a beggar with keen eyes, who appeared active and observant rather than despondent over their situation.

  The shifty kind of character Basim was looking for was not making themselves known, but another individual did.

  Turning a corner, Basim saw a small hut where several of the impoverished had gathered. The steam that bellowed from the home into the cold air, the smell of cheap, comforting food, told Basim exactly what kind of person it was; a helping hand for those who needed it most.

  “You, come here,” the cook ordered one man who held an empty bowl. Within a moment, it was filled with what was no more than a well-spiced lentil soup. Of course, it suited the hungry well, as the man enjoyed it gratefully, as did those who followed. “Girl, step up, step up, or you miss out!”

  When Basim approached, he made sure to stand out of the way for others to join the group. It was some time before everyone had their bowl full, giving Basim room to approach. Yet, the cook saw him and bid him closer anyway.

  “Come, come, ah...you look like a strong one,” the man said, already gathering a serving from a large pot that sat on a fire. The house was so small that Basim could see the small room where the server slept. Other than that, all he had was the kitchen and an old chair.

  “I’m not here for food, just to ask a question,” Basim said, finding very little to smile about seeing the frantic nature of the man.

  “Not here for food? You should be, you look positively skinny,” the man said and upon seeing that Basim carried no bowl, he fetched one and filled it, shoving it in Basim’s hands. “Are you all that’s left? Where are the others?”

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The man leaned out the window again, checking in every direction, yelling out that he had food to serve. A few more people appeared, but the handful was quickly served. Basim, who felt hungry enough, ate his portion and waited. Once finished, he withdrew a coin from his robes and placed it on the window.

  The server looked at it and plucked it up with the empty bowl quickly.

  “You could have bought a better meal with that much,” the server said, although he did not return the coin for a lesser one, nor would Basim exchange it if he did. The man knew it would do more good in his hands. “What question?”

  “I’m new to the city, I wanted to find someone who could tell me about the people,” Basim began, but realized he wanted to introduce himself to the man. “I’m Basim.”

  “Taghi,” Taghi replied. “Are you looking for a tour guide? Here? If you’ve seen the harbor, I’m afraid you’ve seen everything.”

  “Anyone that knows the people that stay here...well?”

  Taghi raised his head, looking down at Basim with an understanding look. All Basim saw was the man's gray nose hair.

  “If you’re looking for gossip, then the one you’re looking for is just around here, behind my place,” Taghi said. “Nub is her name, she can tell you all you want to know about Hammerdown.”

  Basim thanked the server and slipped around the corner, then behind the building. There was only one woman, seated on a bench and leaning back against Taghi’s home. She was dressed in thick robes, with one hand on a stick and the other on a low corner of the foundation sticking out from the neighboring building.

  Nub had to be the oldest woman Basim had seen in his life. He felt younger the longer he looked at her and her stiffness. She seemed to be taking shelter from the cold air that ran between the buildings, like a wise cat, as the warm morning light began to fall across her as the sun rose. She sighed deeply as she felt the warmth and her eyes opened suddenly.

  Basim could swear he heard her eyelids squeak as they opened.

  Basim introduced himself and asked if she could help him find out a few things about the notable people of Hammerdown, to which she replied with only a slow nod, and then her voice came out like a puff of dust.

  “There is little I don’t know about Hammerdown,” Nub said slowly, her dry voice adding to the salt in the air. “Been here long before, when it was just a few huts and a felucca.”

  “I’m looking for someone who would have come here, fifteen or more years ago,” Basim began. “A man who might have made a lot of money in trade, or just seemed really lucky. Do you know anyone that fits that description?”

  “That could be one of many,” Nub said, shaking her head slowly as if the question itself was no good. “Ever since the sultan’s jaunt across the ocean, Hammerdown has had many such individuals come, seek their fortune, and find it.”

  “Still, any that stand out above the rest?” Basim encouraged.

  “What’s it worth to you?” Nub asked.

  “As expected,” Basim thought as he handed her a few coins.

  Nub eyed them with her left eye, which was no doubt her good eye before her wrinkled hand pocketed them.

  “If it is the lucky ones you seek, there is no one luckier than Masud,” Nub said. “Close to one of the warehouses, deckhands, and dock workers play dice and tiles. Masud is neither a deckhand nor a dock worker but visits there often to gamble. I’m told that he rarely loses and I consider that to be true, as he lives in a home in a rich part of the city, wearing clothes so fancy it angers those who lose money to him.”

  Basim thanked her for the information and continued his search, although he doubted that he would find anyone as likely to be Vel in mortal form as Masud. With a whistle, Aida descended to land on his arm.

  “Hear that, girl?” Basim asked, to which Aida replied with a chirrup. “It seems we’ve found the god of wealth!”

  ~*~

  Abasi wasn’t much of a people person compared to Basim or Athia, but he had the smarts to know exactly where to look, rather than who to ask.

  Abasi started by hanging around one of the upper-class establishments. The ideal place to watch is one selling precious gems and shiny trinkets. The tables glittered with finery that was laid out along richly colored cloth. Abasi found himself marveling at even the simplest of the items, as they showed such incredible craftsmanship.

  Yet, Abasi knew he did not have the money to cover a decent fraction of the cheapest item. He did not want to linger long in view of the guards, so he pretended to browse briskly as if he were looking for something specific.

  Abasi was rewarded for his loitering by gossip exchanged between two merchants, rather than the customers.

  “Everything?” a mustached merchant asked a smug-looking merchant.

  “Everything, I have not a drop of perfume left to sell,” the smug merchant replied. “It’s so good to have a customer with the money to match his taste.”

  “Well, it is the Barika,” the mustached merchant said. “I would expect nothing less of the man who rules Hammerdown...yet, I know your prices. I didn’t realize he was so wealthy. What did you tell him?”

  “When he asked which was my best perfume, I told him all had their qualities to outshine all others, then he told me to send it all to his home on the hill and that was that. A man like that, even in his position, knows how to keep himself.”

  “The houses on the hill, of course,” Abasi thought, turning his attention to the homes of the rich. “Nothing but the best for a god...let’s see if I can find where this Barika lives.”

  The upper classes stayed in houses that always looked new, that were large enough for entire families, with astounding views as they staggered up a hill to give a better view of the ocean. Abasi need only see who lived in the most luxurious home in the best spot on the hill to get a good idea of who had the deepest pockets, Barika’s pockets.

  The district was a lot cleaner, the pathways going from hard dirt and sand to cobbled roads and even tiled paths. As for greenery, the people of Hammerdown used only hardy plants that could withstand the salty air and very little water. The water sources were scattered close by, but even if you added every spring and well, it would be nothing compared to the oasis in Red Rock.

  “But they receive much more rain,” Abasi thought. “It will be a long time before this city is abandoned if it ever is.”

  Abasi had been wandering down one path that gradually led upwards when a rock hit his shoulder. He grunted in pain and moved out of the way for a second. Looking up, he saw three figures looking down on him, their faces mean and eyes soulless.

  “You don’t live here, what are you doing here?” the left one asked.

  Abasi thought they were children at first, but as he observed them closer, they were adults who had not seen a day's work in their lives. That is if bullying didn’t count as work.

  “I’m just going for a walk,” Abasi told them as they jumped down onto the path. “Get a good view of the sea.”

  “Then you can pay for the privilege,” the same one said. It seemed the other two were his brothers. “Ten silvers and you can go up, otherwise, you go back down.”

  As much as Abasi considered himself a reasonable person, he had no words to argue them down in price, nor did he have the coins to pay them. It seemed he was stuck because he had no intention of going down.

  “That’s too much,” Abasi said simply. “I’m going up anyway.”

  Abasi walked away, following the path, hearing the steps that followed him. The thugs were in no hurry, but then one’s pace quickened. Abasi expected them to grab his shoulder and pull him back, what he did not expect was for one of them to grab his legs and pull them back so suddenly. Abasi fell hard on the tiled path, turning around to face the thug. The vocal one of the brothers stepped up beside him.

  “You will go back down,” he said simply, the slightest bit of amusement playing in his voice.

  “I will call the guards,” Abasi told him, getting to his feet. His cheek hurt badly but didn’t dare rub it and give them the satisfaction of seeing him in pain.

  “With my father as the head of the guard, they won’t help you,” the noble said, showing a bit more amusement.

  “It would be an even fight then,” Abasi grunted, sending a sharp left punch straight into the nose of the one who pulled his legs. The vocal brother raised his arms to defend himself from Abasi’s right hook as the third brother ran forward.

  Abasi didn’t drop the punch, driving his fist against the noble’s defense and knocking him to the ground, if not out. The third brother didn’t receive a punch, but a forceful kick to the chest that sent him toppling down the path. The talkative brother stood up, twisting around as he did to run away to get help. Abasi followed, not particularly keen on having the guards appear and get involved.

  The noble turned down one narrow way between buildings. Abasi followed and discovered the noble in Bayek’s hands. Bayek slammed the noble quickly against the wall, not hard enough to injure him badly, but enough to knock him out. The noble was a lightweight in Bayek’s hands and he sent the unconscious body back out to join his brothers without a little exertion.

  Abasi was grateful for what Bayek did but was far more concerned with the way Bayek was looking at him. His eyes were like those of the nobles who attacked him, but there was much more anger behind them. It was the look of a killer.

  Abasi felt his blood run cold.

  “You should be in the center, what are you doing here?” Abasi asked.

  “Don’t think you can fool me like you did your friend and Athia,” Bayek said, reaching forward and grabbing Abasi by the front of his robes. Abasi drew his dagger only for Bayek to knock it aside with a stiff strike. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

  “One of them?”

  Bayek slammed Abasi’s back against the wall. It wasn’t as hard as he did with the noble, but close enough.

  “Are you one of them?” Bayek repeated.

  Abasi’s mind was reeling. The pain was a flash. He looked into Bayek’s eyes and it hurt to see the hopelessness of the situation. Bayek would kill him and he knew that.

  “Yes, I was with them...I was there when the Sultan killed the king,” Abasi said. “There weren’t many of us after the king fell...we ran.”

  Bayek didn’t understand what Abasi was talking about and Abasi could see the anger replace itself with confusion.

  “Y-you didn’t know?” Abasi said, although his last words came out in a gasp as Bayek dropped him. “I thought you knew. I ran away from that battle...I don’t know if I got lucky and escaped, or they saw I was just a kid and just...didn’t bother.”

  Bayek stood with his back to Abasi, his fists clenched.

  “I wanted for the longest time to get revenge for our king’s death,” Abasi continued. “But not anymore...at least, I didn’t think so, until I heard you killed him. I thought I gave up that anger and became a different person, like Basim and his family expected me to be. Yet, hearing how you killed him...I felt like I missed my chance. For five years in Red Rock, every time I saw the Sultan, I wanted to...I wanted to change back, drop the cons, and just…fight. I didn’t break, not once and I won’t. I won’t, just please, don’t-”

  Bayek decided not to stick around, Abasi watched him walk away. He didn’t know if Bayek was going to tell Athia and Basim, but he also wondered why Bayek accosted him if he didn’t know already.

  “He must have known I was lying before,” Abasi decided. “I can’t stop him from telling the others either...everything I’m afraid of is happening.”

  Abasi didn’t know if it was because he was so close to death at Bayek’s hands or the thought of Basim finding out the truth, but his eyes began to burn from the welling up of tears. He shook them away and sighed heavily.

  ~*~

  “A bandit,” Bayek thought. “I knew his story had holes, but I never thought for a second he could have been keeping a different secret. That’s all he was, a kid in the wrong place and I almost...I am grateful I didn’t make the same mistake. I have to make sure it’s Vel next time, or I will end up falling so low that there won’t be any getting up.”