232

You ride the moonlit coast road, covering the remaining 25 miles to Bir Rabalou in little more than three hours. Your first glimpse of the great trading port comes when the road crests a ridge of hills within a mile of its perimeter wall. From here you can see that the city is built in a semicircle between two great jutting spurs of land which protrude into the ocean like the horns of a huge bull. Within the city wall are hundreds of lavish buildings, yet the grandest of all is a castle which stands upon a steep hill at its centre. This one towering stronghold dominates all the other splendid structures of this rich metropolis.

Your arrival at the north gate at such a late hour is greeted with suspicion from a pair of surly guards. Eventually you are allowed to enter, but only after Oswin bribes them with the horse that Oriah once rode. Beyond the gate you ride along a torchlit avenue which leads down to the harbour; this is filled with trading ships of all nationalities. The quayside and its taverns are alive with activity as the captains and crews of these vessels drink themselves senseless with the money their cargoes have earned.

You select one of the quieter taverns and stable your horses at the rear before making your entrance. The tavern’s taproom is crowded with sailors and traders, most of whom are listening to an uncommonly fine musical performance being given by three Cloeasian minstrels. Your companions are hungry and tired and so you make your way to the counter and ask the tavern-keeper his price for food and a night’s lodging. He tells you that 10 Gold Crowns will fill all your bellies and buy you each the use of a comfortable room. You agree to his price (deduct 10 Gold Crowns from your Action Chart) and he hands each of you a numbered key. The marines are not impressed with the minstrels’ classical recital and they decide to eat their meals in their rooms. Before they retire for the night you arrange to meet with them here in the taproom, first thing in the morning.

You seat yourself at the counter and listen to the recital as you enjoy a meal of grilled meat and sugared desert fruits. As you wipe your mouth and push away your empty plate, your eye is caught by a rotund little man who is seated alone in an alcove. ‘Ho, journeyman!’ he calls, beckoning you with a plump hand that is laden with gold and ruby rings. ‘Please, will you join me at my table?’

If you possess the Grand Master Discipline of Telegnosis, turn to 329.

If you do not, turn to 301.