The Broken Song

Chapter Nineteen

— Kiverryn, Iskendryn —

It was amazing what could change in a meager two months. When they had left, Kiverryn was a thriving place with enough fat pockets overflowing with gold to have fun without the faintest thought of remorse. Nothing was more satisfying than stealing a wealthy nobleman's fortune and seducing his wife while he thought himself too powerful to target. Kiverryn had been one of her favorite places because of the corruption and scandal rife within the city's walls.

But now, the city before her looked to be a shell of its former self.

Lulu stood apart from the others, her eyes scanning the bleak scene. Though Bran had told her about the situation, she preferred verifying everything with her own eyes. A plague was ravaging the area, its presence seen and felt in the desperation of those trying to flee toward the city. Carts were upturned and looted along the side of the roads, their owners long gone. Families sat huddled around fires, eating whatever scraps they managed to find. The people were starving, but fat merchants waddled by, their noses upturned as they passed without even a glance in the beggars' direction. Their apathy was normal.

What Lulu found far more interesting was the fact that the merchants, too, were turned away from the gate. Even far from the southern gate, she could hear the man's indignant shouts. The cart pulled behind him by two struggling slaves looked filled to the brim with tradable goods. Even in such dire times, the avarice of nobles was voracious. So, why was he being turned away like the beggars he passed?

Even stranger was the geography of the plague itself. The surrounding farmlands and villages had been hit the hardest, but oddly, the city seemed immune, for the moment. That alone smelled like diarrhea on the wind. Unmistakably foul and impossible to ignore. The city should have been the center, not a haven.

Every entrance was under heavy guard. In the two hours they had been waiting outside, surveying the area, Lulu had only seen one person allowed to enter. That brief peek only served to heighten her suspicions.

"Learn anything, Undri-Boondri?" she asked over her shoulder as the dark elf came to her side.

His hands clasped behind his back, he kept his eyes fixed on the entrance to the city. "Do not call me that."

"Why? Does it hurt your little feelings?"

"You are child."

Lulu rolled her eyes. "As team leader, I can call you whatever I please. Didn't you tell Idelle you owed us your life? And, seeing as I was the one to actually push you out of the way of imminent death, I feel like you owe me this one."

D'rundri chose not to argue the subject further, and she grinned with victory when she saw the tick in his jaw. "There was forger getting people into city. Took everything people had."

"Was? Someone get tired of him cheating people?"

"That him," D'rundri motioned to the desiccated corpse still swinging from the tree nearby, a crow happily feeding on his innards that were spilled upon the ground.

"Huh. So, I guess the king doesn't have much sense of humor, then."

"Not king," the elf shook his head. He pointed to an officer stationed at the southern watch-post. He was leaning down to help an elderly woman knocked aside by the angry merchant storming away from the city as fast as his squat little legs could carry him. "Lieutenant Ostergaard. He only one caring for people." Lulu nodded, quietly considering if he was worth talking to. "What about you?"