273

You approach the gates of Hikas just as the last rays of sunlight are dipping below the western horizon. Bathed in the sun’s afterglow this ancient city-port looks warmly inviting, and you cast your eye appraisingly across the stone geometry of its protective wall, its conical towers, and its pyramidal dwellings. Every surface is embellished with runic symbols, yet few remain legible, for thousands of years have elapsed since they were carved.

The Vakeros at the east gate recognize your Kai tunic and offer you a guarded welcome. They warn you that a curfew is in force and tell you to be off the streets by dark. You pass through the gate and follow a long shadowy street that descends towards the wharves and taverns that line the banks of the Carcos River—a murky, silt-rich channel which divides the city in two. Mindful of the imminent curfew, you tether your horse to a rail and enter the nearest tavern in search of a room for the night. Inside the air is hot and stale. A small number of men and women of mixed nationality stand at the counter and sit at small tables. Their low-voiced conversations break off as you let the tavern door shut behind you with a bang.

If you wish to take a seat at a table, turn to 245.

If you wish to approach the counter, turn to 161.