Chapter Twenty-Four—The Last and the First

“You said it would be four or five days! It’s been nine days, Ali!” Shiro said through gritted teeth.

“Hahaha!” Ali whirled as he laughed. “But now we are here! Look, the wonderful port city of Darbusa! We are now on our last leg of this journey, Shiro! Jessamine has been rescued from—what was it, the void? Be happy, my friend!”

Growling in his throat, Shiro regarded Darbusa from the dock they were standing on, Debaku at his side. The city was impressive with its tall flat-faced structures, flags of gold and blue and green and tiled roofs of gray tile.

Up in the mountains thousands of homes hung like bird nests—those colorful flags fluttering in the wind as they guided people up the stone steps that switch backed through the city. The flags were attached by long cords.

Even from here, the road leading to the governor’s palace was wide, and the palace itself large.

It was a rich city.

Kami-sama.

“Yes!” Ali said, taking his forefinger from his temple and stabbing out at Shiro. “I can see it on your face. Even you are impressed, no?” Ali turned and led the way. “I said nothing, because I wanted to surprise you myself!”

Shiro glanced toward Debaku, who didn’t seem impressed. He suspected the famed adventurer had been to this city before.

Stepping faster to keep pace with Ali, Shiro heaved his bags and followed the over exuberant Abassir off of the docks, whereupon they were stopped by an official wearing a strange hat with hanging bells. He squinted at Shiro with narrow eyes. With him was a small team of attendants.

“Welcome to Darbusa,” he said, his accent, though of the Abassir Empire, was different than that of the lands surrounding Darshuun and the other central territories. “You must pay a toll tax to land at these docks.”

“Uh—“ Ali muttered. “What is the tax?”

“One Imperial Silver per head.”

“What?” Ali barked. “One silver? That’s outrageous!”

“And two coppers as well, my Darshuuni visitor.”

Ali huffed. “That is far too much. Make it half.”

“The tax is non-negotiable.”

“Just pay the man, Ali,” Shiro said as he flipped his own silver and coppers out of his money pouch. He didn’t have a lot of money, but he could spare this.

“Ah,” the dock man said. “And your name. You must inscribe your name in the books before you pay. Come, come!”

They followed the man into an imperial office with hanging flags marking it so. “Now, go to the counter there, sign and pay.”

“Bah!” Ali said, waving a hand. “This is thievery. I pay my taxes. Why do I have to pay more to come to another place in the same empire, eh?”

Shiro stepped up and he was given a ledger to sign. He wrote another name and paid his head tax.

After Ali finished, he went to Shiro. He was waiting near the windows, anticipation filling his stomach. He did not want to say he was enjoying himself, but a part of him was.

I am an adventurer.

It is what I do.

“How did you sign your name? I did not see a Shiro Takeda on that list.”

“Of course not,” he said. “Do I want to make it known that I have been here? Darius knows who I am.”

“How is that possible?”

Debaku joined them. “There are ways,” he said.

“How?” Ali asked, surprised.

“It is possible to attenuate the past. Did you not go into his dungeon where you found Jessamine?”

Shiro nodded.

Ali’s eyes got big and his mouth hung open. “Do you think he knows about me?”

“Hmm,” Shiro noised, thinking. “If he knows who I am, he probably knows you as well, Ali.”

“But… Then why didn’t he confiscate my property in Darshuun?”

“A trap?” Shiro suggested.

Ali made a fist. “We need to kill him, Shiro.”

With a wry smile, he glanced into the Abassir’s eyes.

“No—to save Jessamine, of course,” he said. Then through gritted teeth he added. “And I want my life back.”

Shiro put a hand on his shoulder as they walked out. “You will get it, my friend. I promise you. We will save Jessamine and we will all be free men.”

“What are you talking about? Debaku here can do whatever he wishes.”

“Mm.”

“No,” he said. “I have promised Shiro that I would help him, and so I shall.”

“My apologies.”

“There is none needed.”

“Well then,” Ali said as they made it to the main road. “I suppose we need to gear up and purchase some camels so we can head across the Uratai Steppe. But I warn you, there are all manner of monsters and roaming bands of tribals who would cut us to pieces as soon as lay eyes on us.”

“Sounds fun,” Shiro said. “But nothing is going to stop me from reaching your friend.”

“Where is he?” Debaku asked.

“Ah, somewhere in the Issyka mountains,” Ali said. “There are many dungeons in these places and the khans of these lands wish the monsters to be killed, so some agreements with Darius have been made recently.”

“Oh?” Shiro asked.

“Ha! He’s probably using this as an excuse to send his spies into those lands so he can conquer them later.”

“Like he did Mar’a Thul,” Debaku said.

Ali glanced over toward Debaku and nodded. “The empire has been gobbling up countries and empires ever since Darius came to power. He’s old, but when I saw him, he didn’t look aged.”

“Mmm,” Debaku noised. “Jinni magic.”

“Ah,” Ali said, nodding vigorously. “I am sure you are right, my friend. Now let us find an adventurer’s guild so that we might prepare ourselves—but first, a bathhouse and an inn! I am starving and I reek of sweat!”

“Me too,” Shiro said with a nod.

They were here, in Darbusa, about to leave the Abassir Empire.

On to another adventure.