Chapter 6 – The Gates of Karathar
The third day dawned clear.
The sun, finally free of the dead trees, followed the caravan like a merciless golden eye.
Nyxarion kept his face blank, but Lucas could feel it: every ray was a memory the ancient king would rather burn away.
By noon, the walls appeared.
Karathar rose like a mountain of black stone and iron.
Forty meters high, towers bristling with giant crossbows, crimson-and-gold banners of the Duchy of Valthorne snapping in the wind.
The main gate stood open, yet thirty fully-armored soldiers and one plumed-helmet officer stood watch.
Gorran straightened his cape, cleared his throat, and slipped into his official voice.
"Stay quiet and look stupid," he muttered to Nyxarion. "Let me do the talking."
The caravan halted before the gate.
The officer, Captain Renvik, approached with heavy steps.
"Gorran Veyl. Back already?"
"Business is business, Captain. Fresh stock from the frontier. All properly sealed."
Renvik gave the three wagons a cursory glance, then fixed his gaze on Lucas.
"And this one?"
"Refugee. Village burned. Brought him for free. He'll work off his transport debt. Nothing illegal."
The captain snorted (he knew the game).
He eyed the guards (now only six) and the dried blood on the wheels.
"Lost men on the road?"
"Shadow-hounds," Gorran answered, a little too quickly. "Wolves just killed two, took the bodies, and left. Lucky us."
Renvik raised an eyebrow and looked Nyxarion up and down.
The ancient king's stare was calm, empty, lethal.
The captain felt a chill he couldn't name.
"Move along," he said at last, waving them through. "Auction's in a few days. Don't be late."
The wagons rolled in.
Karathar swallowed them whole.
Wide streets of black stone, three- and four-story houses with iron balconies, the smell of bread, coal, sweat, and old blood.
Thousands of people: merchants shouting prices, children darting between legs, guards on every corner, beggars in every alley.
And somewhere deeper, the constant, low clink of chains.
Lucas spoke, almost breathless:
This place is… huge.
"Big enough to disappear in," Nyxarion answered inside. "Big enough to begin."
Gorran parked in an inner courtyard behind a broad building with a bronze sign:
VEYLL & SONS AUCTIONS
LIVE AND INANIMATE MERCHANDISE
"We're here," the merchant announced, hopping down with a heavy thud. "Auction's in a few days. You help unload the cargo and scrub the cages. Then we'll see what to do with you."
He gave Lucas a "friendly" slap on the shoulder and waddled off, already barking orders.
Nyxarion stood still for a heartbeat, drinking it all in.
Lucas asked:
Now what?
"Now we listen."
Nyxarion closed his eyes for a single breath.
An invisible ripple of darkness spread from him like a whisper.
It swept the courtyard, the nearby streets, the alleys.
And came back.
"The first fragment is here," he said, voice low, meant only for Lucas. "Close. Very close. It'll be sold at the auction."
Fragments?
You still haven't explained those.
"I will. Later."
Where?
"Not sure yet. But it's in Karathar. It'll be offered as a 'curious object' or 'special slave.' We'll find it."
While following the merchant into the building, his eyes (ordinary brown, perfectly human) scanned every face, every shadow, every chain.
Karathar was a goblin nest.
And the King of Darkness had just walked into the den.
The auction was days away.
Tomorrow the real game began.
End of Chapter 6