At some point, her father had told her that [Lords] of various families had petitioned the five great families of the north—Reinhart, El, Veltras, Terland, and Wellfar—along with the remaining Walled Cities—Manus, Zeres, Fissival, Oteslia, Salazsar, and Pallass—to relegate the fighting to one spot to prevent civilian deaths.
He huffed and decided to give it up. Ysara knew trouble when she saw it. He sat back in his seat and decided he might try playing on the new chessboards he’d bought. He was going to try selling them; you had addicts all over Izril, and the game was new, if not as hot as when it came out. He had some lovely gemstone pieces he’d gotten from Salazsar for a song. His hope was a noble snapped up a board. Just one would recoup all costs.
Not that the person sitting across from them was helping Zel remain inconspicuous. Wall Lord Ilvriss, one of the sworn protectors of the famed Walled Cities—in his case the city of Salazsar—sat expansively in his chair, sipping from some elegant drink or other and delicately spearing morsels from his plate with the long-handled fork the Drake aristocracy loved to use.
“Another round, Peslas! And fill young Swifttail’s glass. Don’t be stingy! Everyone who drinks tonight does so on my coin. A Lord of the Wall from Salazsar treats his brethren away from home with due respect! Never let it be said otherwise!”
“Am I? Am I? Perhaps. But if I am, it is only because I recognize talent. A [Strategist] may be essential to every army, but they are hardly common! You could join any army with that class. I know you’re a citizen of Liscor, but it would be a shame to waste your abilities in a mercenary army, even one as acclaimed as Liscor’s. When the day comes that you reach that level, I hope you might consider moving to Salazsar. The Walled Cities have need of fresh minds like you.”
“I have a mind to recommend his name when I return to Salazsar. He’s wasted here, and if he joins that army of sellswords he’ll languish there as well.”
“I am in need of rapid transportation, Human. Obviously I am reluctant to ask your ki—I would like to make a trip to my home city, of Salazsar at all speed. How quickly can you connect your door to that location?”
“They are. But some make a name for themselves even so. I knew of Halassia. She was born in Salazsar. That she considered you her allies, and that you took her in—I remembered your name, Halfseekers. For the kindness you offered Halassia when her kin would not, I thank you.”
The map was in fact a replica of one of the magical map rooms in the Walled City of Salazsar. It was depicting the Goblin Lord’s forces as he moved steadily northwards towards Invrisil. It seemed remarkably accurate for a dream map.
A room full of sixty or so Drakes were all seated in a round chamber, on benches arranged into a semi-circle. They were all dressed in rich clothing or armor, and each one of them was looking towards Ilvriss. Olesm was scared to even breathe. These were the nobility of Salazsar, the ruling elite of the Walled City. Each one was a Lord of the Wall or a Lady of the Wall, and they were all staring at him. Well, not at him, but at Ilvriss, but the pressure alone was making Olesm nervous.
The way Ilvriss spoke to the other Lords and Ladies of the Wall in his city of Salazsar was by using a scrying orb. It gave him a view of their conference room while they did the same to him. Both orbs were extremely expensive and it had to be said, annoying to use. Ilvriss already had a headache as he stared into the small orb and saw a distorted, fish-eye view of a room full of Drake nobility staring back at him.
Ilvriss gritted his teeth and kept his tail from lashing. Zel Shivertail’s alliance with Lady Magnolia wasn’t an issue solely important to the Drakes in Salazsar of course. No doubt every Walled City was in a panic right now. And for good reason!
