It was hard for me to tell that we were nearing our destination until we more or less got right up to the city. The capital city, Balant, was up in the mountains, and so we were just kind of meandering aimlessly through a winding mountain trail for a long time before we got there. It was kind of pretty; a layer of clouds would come down into the valley and be sometimes fog around us, sometimes below us, and sometimes just clouds above us. Occasionally we would watch it rain.

Naturally I had seen things like that before, on Earth; driving trips through the mountains would show you small slices of life on the way by, but you rarely got a chance to soak them in unless you stopped and made time for it all on your own. On this slow meandering walk, though, there was nothing to do but stare either up at the sky or down at your feet, or occasionally at the people around.

I have to admit, looking at other soldiers was not the unpleasant and boring affair I'd expected. The army was integrated, not only in species but gender. I had known, of course, but expected to not find much I was attracted to around... and truthfully, there wasn't much. The conscripts were largely unwilling folk who either had no prospects at home, were criminals, or were just unlucky enough that nobody was willing to stand up for them when it came time to fill the conscription quota. There were a lot who were unhealthy, poorly educated, or worse.

There were, however, a few of the actual warrior clan people among the wounded. Unlike the brat I'd argued with when we first got to camp, these people were something. One woman in particular, who might have been a halfbreed wolf or... some other canine I couldn't place, moved around with a semblance of authority that was hard to shake, in spite of missing one entire arm to the shoulder, and having a fresh blade wound across her face.

There were a number of odd things about her, but perhaps the most notable was the sword across her back. It was thick and heavy enough to be a two-handed sword easily, and naturally she had no reason to draw it on the walk back home, but when she stopped for the night and unslung it, she tossed around around like it was a pencil. I didn't get a chance to see her use it, but I had no doubt she could make a good show of it one-handed, although doing so with a still-healing amputation was clearly not on her to-do list.

One way or another, I found her energy contagious, which was not something I expected. I was usually pretty sedate and often shy, whereas she, whenever she came around, simply took some things for granted--that we were all on the same side, that nobody would be offended if she asked personal questions, that we were all equals in many respects. It was... nice, although it was something I was out of practice with. I didn't even think to ask her name, which bothered me in retrospect.

As we finally got a view of Balant, a ragged cheer started at the head of the group, working its way back as more people got to see the sight. I was... a little underwhelmed, but not too much. It wasn't a city by my standards, but it was a sight better than Olesport. The valley we were coming up was blocked by a big wall, and the sides of the mountains on each side had stone terraces going up that gave plenty of room for archers (or mages, or whomever) to rain death on attackers. The gate, if you want to call it that, was not on level ground; it was long and low, and there were a bunch of boulders lined up that would roll downhill through the gate onto attackers, and as we passed through it, I found they had a large quantity of death balls on ropes stacked on the uphill side of the gate, which would become swinging death balls going back and forth in the entryway if anyone got that far. Kind of... primitive, but scary, as long as their aim was good.

Past the boulder and spike-ball traps was something peculiar--a bunch of blunt wooden sticks stuck at an angle, creating a funnel that led us onto a road. It was kind of like a pole fence, except the poles were leaned in towards us. I examined them as we moved past, and finally decided that they were probably supposed to have spearheads put on them in wartime, left off for now so they wouldn't rust. Archers or whatever would stand on the other side and harass people while the melee types would be kept at bay... for a little while. I had no illusions that would work for very long, but then, a row of spears was probably a lot easier to build or repair than a stone wall, and for all I knew, a mage could destroy one of those just as easily.

The one in charge of the resupply mission was a large cat-type halfbreed, and he dealt with the very limited paperwork like a pro. The people at the gate knew him, and he had us all line up and present our honorable discharge papers, one at a time, letting anyone through who had one. The people on the carts were counted and somehow verified, and that seemed to be all there was to it.

There were... one or two people who didn't have papers. Whenever a conflict on the matter broke out, one of the guards would take a jeweled blade off the wall and set it down. Apparently this sword was enchanted with Ciel'ostra's lie-detecting thing, because some people were shuffled into a room to talk about things more, a few were turned away... and one person who was dumb enough to lie was cut down where he stood.

When I saw that, I had a fleeting moment where I flashed back to the battle against goblins, and I was scared that the jeweled sword was going to do some kind of blood-flame stealing trick, but no. If anything, it seemed to absorb a bit of fear-induced flame that was generated from everyone who watched the event, but no ashen or blood flame appeared. I... didn't realize I had been affected by it that much, but I shouldn't have been surprised.

The cat man, unlike many, showed no prejudice towards the human wounded. When it came to my turn, he accepted my paper, scanned it, grunted, and returned it, gesturing me on, as he had with everyone else. Most likely, he just didn't want any trouble that might take up more of his time; he seemed as tired as most of the wounded did, like he was bearing some kind of weight, and he had a little bit of a thousand-yard stare to him. Probably a veteran who was doing this job instead of retiring?

And then I was loose in a city I'd never been to. Balant was not I would call big (coming from first-world Earth, I doubted anything on this world would be), although it was bigger than Olesport. It was in a narrow valley between mountain peaks, with three or four large stone bridges stretching between the peaks--clearly made by magic, because the bridges were very long, sometimes almost a mile--and platforms on top of those bridges had more buildings. The bridges must also connect to springs or something, because water poured down from them in a couple places. I ended up following the closest one and found a giant outdoor bath, where some kind of magic separated the one giant falling stream of water into dozens, about half of which splashed out into a more manageable shower in the last few feet, and the others pounded into pools with intimidating weight and force. A lot of people were using the baths, including a great many people standing under those heavy, fast water falls, letting the water pound them.

And then the water flowed through the lower level of the town from there, through a series of channels. As I watched, it occurred to me just how relevant Alanna's questions about infections and sterilizing water were. I hoped people weren't drinking the water downstream from the big outdoor baths... but if they didn't know that was bad, they might be.

Of course, they would also get a bunch of hair in their pipes if they did, so maybe they had some kind of cleaning magic. One way or another, I put it out of mind.

As I stood there watching, a few of the injured soldiers came from behind me and moved, excitedly, towards the baths. One of those, I recognized, was the one-armed woman I had been staring at. And... naturally, the people approaching the baths were starting to strip.

I didn't remain indecisive or stare, embarrassed, for very long. The people here were taking public nudity in stride, but more than that... it had been a while since I got a bath.

So I found a place along with other returning soldiers to set my things down and removed the clothes I had, pathetic as they were, and stacked my papers under them. Then... although my guts churned with a combination of excitement and nervousness, I moved towards one of the big pounding waterfalls.

It was about what I expected. I had one, many years ago, stood under a waterfall, but not one this tall. The water came down as a a very heavy weight, and it felt like it wanted to take some skin with it, but it was bearable. I had to be careful not to let it get into my destroyed eye, which meant skipping the chance to wash my hair, but...

When I stepped out, I was face to face with the one-armed warrior. To my credit, I didn't let myself get immediately ashamed of my naked body, or stupidly transfixed with hers. I nodded and gave her a grin, and she returned it, and walked into the waterfall herself.

Hopefully I'd see her again soon, but first I really needed food and sleep. After walking for days, I was ready to let this body rest for a good long while.