attention, and knew better than to approach any merchant’s stall too closely. A beggar boy near to their wares would instantly draw scrutiny from any experienced merchant, for the grab-and-dash was a constant threat they endured. The more valuable goods were always placed near the back of the booths; some merchants organized their tables into open squares, so you had to enter the stall to fully inspect the merchandise, while smaller stalls with a single table front challenged a thief to reach to the back of the booth to steal the better-quality goods, an action sure to bring a club or blade crashing down on all but the quickest miscreants before they could escape.
Hatu also made a quick surveillance of the area of the city between the plaza with its market and the main road that ran up the hill to the citadel where the cathedral was under construction. From the northeast corner of the square, the road wended its way upwards, doubling back and rising rapidly from the northern edge of the plaza; it was fenced or walled until it reached the edge of the grounds abutting the old castle. The main road was busy, and from what he had learned, the establishments closest to the old castle were likely to be the oldest and most successful, for their proprietors could quickly retreat into the castle if the city were attacked, while those below were more likely to be sacked.
Hatu’s first impression of this city was reinforced by the mood and manner of the people in the market. Too many watchmen patrolled the area, and when he passed one of them Hatu did his best to imitate a local going about his business, but if it was safe, he watched the crowd. He looked for vantage points where he could pause for a few minutes and observe. There was no hint of joy in the noise surrounding him. In most open markets you would hear the occasional laugh, or the sound of music if entertainers were earning coins, but here in Sandura the population seemed suspicious, as if constantly under watch, and by now Hatu was of the opinion that they were.
Finishing up his last task, finding an inexpensive but palatable wine, he began his journey back to Bodai, constantly observing as much as possible. For once he was pleased Donte was not with him. Subtlety was not among his friend’s good qualities; he seemed to have a need to call attention to himself at the worst possible moments. It was as if Donte couldn’t stand quiet. Hatu wondered how he would do once he left the school; he didn’t seem to fit the role of sicari. Perhaps Donte would do well in the more traditional, if modest, army of the Coaltachin nation. Or perhaps he would rise to be a regime captain, responsible for running multiple crews in one or more cities.
Hatu would have welcomed Hava’s company. She had an almost perfect set of abilities and a even-tempered nature that would serve a mission like this well. Her presence both calmed and excited him, and lately his feelings towards her were becoming more complicated. She had been his friend and confidante for almost a lifetime, but she confused him. He didn’t know if she understood him or simply accepted him. In an environment where everyone had tried to either change him or find his flaws, she had taken him just as he was.
He’d been with girls before: the town girls were more than pleased to have sex with the students, for the chance to become the wife of a captain, or even a master, was perhaps their only opportunity to rise in station above their parents. Hatu never heard of it happening, but the daydream lived on. But his feelings for Hava were more complicated than simple desire. He struggled to put a name to them, though familiarity and comfort were there. He felt a growing desire, but students were not permitted to have sex with each other. Such attachments were forbidden, and should a talented girl like Hava become pregnant, the boy involved would be given a death sentence.
Hatu pushed Hava out of his mind as he realised he was becoming distracted. He paused to look around and take stock of what he had missed, then returned to the task at hand. Circling back through the market to where he’d started, having found nothing noteworthy to report, he finally reached the burned-out temple, where he found Brother Chasper dozing. However, as he neared, Hatu saw it was a ruse; Master Bodai had been watching the passing traffic closely. Without looking up, he asked, ‘Anything?’
Hatu shook his head. ‘Nothing unusual: normal market commerce, people arguing, others speaking of family, business, gossip.’ He shrugged.
‘Ah,’ said the older man, making a show of awakening. ‘Good, I am hungry.’
‘Shall I find wood for a fire?’ asked Hatu.
Shaking his head, Bodai said, ‘Cold camp tonight. Besides, nothing we have needs cooking.’
Hatu had the merchant wrap the bread and cheese in stiff paper that rustled loudly as he unfolded it into a makeshift platter. Without a word, Bodai took the small slice of cheese and broke it in half, tore off a large hunk of bread, and began eating.
The meal passed with little conversation, as Bodai was intent on studying those who passed on the road as the late afternoon wore on to evening. Hatu drank sparingly of the wine. He honestly couldn’t tell if it was good or not, as drinking wine and other spirits was still new to him, and he had a slight dread of becoming intoxicated. He hated the feeling of being out of control.
As they finished their scant meal, Bodai said, ‘How do you feel about some after-dark prowling?’
Hatu smiled. The old man wasn’t asking if he was willing but informing him of what he would be doing. ‘That should depend on where you’re sending me.’
Without a word, Bodai looked above the building across the street and Hatu realised he was about to be sent to investigate the new cathedral next to the palace, and its surroundings, perhaps inside the citadel itself should he find a way in. He took a breath to calm himself and began mentally retracing his steps through the city leading to the road up to the old castle. Now he wished he had paid a little more attention to the route.
EARLIER IN THE DAY, HATU had chanced a quick journey up the road leading to the plateau above the city. For this evening’s foray, he hurried past a row of businesses preparing to shut down for the night and quickly entered a shop near the top of the winding road leading up to the palace, one that was about to close. He wanted to avoid attracting the attention of the guards at the end of the road, denying them a glimpse of anyone unusually close to their post.
Hatu nodded to the vendor of fine cloth and glanced around for a moment as the merchant narrowed his gaze at the scruffy-looking lad; then, with a smile, Hatu darted back through the door, hugging the wall and insinuating himself between this building and the next. He crouched and glanced around, hoping his movement hadn’t been seen in the failing light.
The bored-looking guards showed no sign of having spotted him, as they chatted about something across the distance between them – one stationed on each side of the gate – their subject unintelligible to Hatu. He studied closely what he had only glanced at for a few seconds earlier in the day.
A gate and a cleared area of ground lay before the entrance to the citadel. The ancient stone walls sat a good distance from the edge of the plateau. Hatu had been taught some military history and theory, so he assumed there was a reason for that clearing but had no idea what it was. He imagined that it might be transformed into a road leading to the cathedral, but he knew nothing about engineering, so how that could be achieved was a question he would have to ponder another time, should such curiosity return to visit him.
He had difficulty understanding the differences between temples, churches, and cathedrals, all of which seemed interchangeable in his mind; they were all places people went to worship. Their size, if anything, seemed to have significance. Hatu had seen a few temples in out-of-the-way places, a couple of which had still been in use, and for the most part they were modest buildings, perhaps as large as a decent inn. A few had even been small enough to be called shrines, with just a roof and a single bench. Churches were not much bigger but tended to be far gaudier, from what he could remember. The cathedral on the plateau, however, seemed to be a massive undertaking.
One point of its construction struck Hatu as odd: a tower had been built that seemed to look down into the old marshalling yard on the east side of the palace. He felt an itch of annoyance that some key information was evading him and pushed it aside to concentrate on the task at hand: to get past the guards at the gate. Slipping past them would be impossible. The gate was closed for the night, and had a door in it that only one person at a time could pass through.