Banningtown was the city known for never sitting still. While it didn’t have the same features as the capitols of the kingdoms, such as the towering structures of Lanfrydhall of Kienne, or the majestic curves and towers of the Gildemanse of Aredun, or even the symmetry and greenery of Salvasing in Neredun, it definitely had enough people to feel like a capitol. Banningtown sprawled across the plains, with new buildings along the Old War Road seemingly erected overnight at times.

One of the busiest parts of all of Banningtown was the city square, surrounded by vendors and workers hanging around the nine foot tall bronze statue of King Banning, considered to be the father of the republic. A square shouldered man with an squarer jaw, the statue stretched both arms forward as if welcoming an embrace. Kidu climbed up the statue and sat on those arms as Menquist and his party approached.

Singis stepped forward first and embraced Menquist. “The space between the times I see you grows,” she said.

“One day that will no longer be true,” Menquist smiled after the embrace and held her arms. He turned to his companions. “Prince Agalric of the Soot, with his fine Ash Men escorting him. This is my adopted daughter, Chief Inspector Singis of the Yghr Burghals. And this is Lord Edmon, Steward of Kienne.”

"Your grace," Edmon bowed. "I have been to your father's hall but I don't believe we've met."

"No, you wouldn't have, my lord," Agalric said. "No doubt you've met my brothers and sisters, but being the youngest of five affords me an excuse to not attend my father's court. So you may not know us, but we all know you, lord Edmon. And I must say, my father has less than a stellar approval of you.”

"I am most sorry to hear that," Edmon said.

"My father once said that conquests happen through fire, blood, and the smashing of steel upon shields," Agalric continued. “But for you, Lord Edmon, you'd conquer us all with a stroke of a pen.”

“Conquer you, your grace?”

“Call me Agalric,” he said. “My father is his own grace, and you’ll find I am not my father. I especially do not share his antiquated sentiments against unification. Why not unify? I do share with him, however, the old fashioned belief of testing your enemy on the field, not the office."

"Enough!" Menquist stepped in. "We have a real enough war with our enemy. Politics need not be another war we fight.”

Edmon bowed. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Agalric, son of Gorrick. I trust when it is time for the real war, your father will be ready to send men to die in the field, not just to stand guard at the base of his castle in the mountains and take the long way around to get to the fight.”

"We have not come from the Soot," Menquist smirked. "We have come directly from New Hearth."

"From New Hearth!" Edmon exclaimed. "That means…so you've found the old passageway! The stories are true!”

"Yes, though getting through the ancient tunnels were just part of the journey," Menquist said. "Finishing the journey required quite a different feat. It is where Esben truly proved the Ash Men’s mettle.”

"Thank you, my lord," Esben said. "The Ash Men are mountain folk, and our spelunkers wrap rope around our entire bodies for moments like this. We found ourselves at the edge of a sheer cliff with no way down. We fastened the ropes to one of the columns inside the tunnels and scaled down the mountains, connecting the ropes as we needed. At the bottom of the mountain we crossed the river, then fastened the other end of the rope to a tree."

“Then, with the rope at an angle we created a funicular similar to what we've built to move people at our castle," Agalric added.

“A…funicular?” Edmon asked.

Agalric nodded. “We hooked ourselves to the rope and rappelled across the river to New Hearth.”

“Then you should be at New Hearth, with Captain Delger,” Edmon said.

"New Hearth had fallen when we got there," Agalric answered. "The enemy overwhelmed whatever men remained. We were barely able to save the captain."

"And the Song Lord?"

"Sarengerel is with Delger," Menquist said. "He was to bring the Aredun's cavalry back to its captain, to retake New Hearth. The Neredunians ride among the Winged Spears now."

"The forces are converging, as you had hoped, Menquist,” Edmon said. “Our chances lie with the Yghrs. Inspector Singis suspects an unseen influence on the Magisters that may prevent them from aiding us. She seeks to return to Isimil to speak to their Soothsayer."

“Soothsaying is a dangerous business,” Menquist said to Singis. “You were always curious with them. Do you remember what I once told you about them?”

“That the sooth exists in my heart before it is even said,” Singis recalled. “That we choose to hear words we yearn to hear, and shut out the rest.”

“Are you sure, child?” Menquist asked.

“Yes, but we will all go," Singis said. "It is a day away. Cover your colors and we will ride into Rain-Mapalthas, a village carved into the side of a mountain. No one will give you trouble. Come, rest for all of you. Follow me, I will fetch a couple of carriages and have you brought to inn.”

“You know this city well, Inspector,” Agalric said. “Would you mind if I rode with you? I promise I’ll won’t pry on your relationship with Menquist, regardless of how surprised I am of it.”

“Of course,” Singis replied. “And even if you pried, there’s nothing to hide. We all seek truth.”

Menquist, Edmon, Arthero, and Kidu rode in one carriage, while Singis, Agalric and his men rode in the other.

“Menquist, you have a daughter?” Kidu asked.

“I knew Singis’ parents,” Menquist said. “Her family met a tragic end when she was of a very young age. As a favor to me, a wealthy retired Yghr merchant took her in for a few years until I had some business settled and I adopted her.”

“I feel there is a bigger story there,” Kidu asked.

“Not for today, my boy,” Menquist said. He looked out the window of the carriage and pointed to a building. “There’s a tavern nearby that has Northern food, and also has minced goose dumplings in the SanKai style. You should definitely give it a chance, see if it reminds you of home. How has your adventures gone, Kidu?”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“No, this was the subject I wanted all along. How have you taken in world-seeing?”

“I feel like I’ve been walking in Mazi’s wake, to be honest,” Kidu aid. “Everywhere I go, he’s been there before. I’m like a child following his parents into the next room.”

Menquist patted him on the knee. “What have you seen that’s worth a story?”

“There was the Citadel, in Ronynhall, where Edmon and I got to watch thousands of archers train. And Irmangard, the forest by the Gildemanse.”

“Ah, the Irmangard? What was so interesting about that old forest?”

Kidu thought of the lady Sefene from the forest, who had called him the Southern Star and had given him a gift that was still a mystery to him. Since he returned, he had noticed some sort of faint glowing of the skin from Edmon. Agalric had a fainter glow, as did Singis. Menquist was not faint at all, as his glow seemed more like a light. He noticed it the moment Menquist had entered the city. He wondered if there was a connection of all of them to Sefene.

“Nothing interesting about the forest?” Menquist asked.

“Nothing, apparently,” Edmon said. “He went searching for medicine that might help me with my bloodletting, but he found nothing.”

“I found nothing,” Kidu repeated. “Nothing interesting.”

Menquist squinted one eye at Kidu. “Mm hmm.”

“The Cleave was interesting,” Kidu said. “Giant expanse of endless canyons, with a single bridge over it all. And there were some odd travelers on the bridge.”

“Most travelers are odd,” Menquist said. “That’s what makes them normal.”

Kidu breathed in deeply to remember. “Nothing normal about these two though. Dressed in white robes, bald head, no hair on their face at all.”

“And a white powder on their skin,” Edmon added.

“And a strange accent,” Kidu said. “I haven’t travelled much across the four kingdoms, but that was different.”

“Arthero, you’ve been across all the kingdoms,” Edmon said. “Have you seen any people that bear resemblance to those travelers?”

“Never,” Arthero replied. “Their walk, their gait…they were warriors, though I saw no weapons on them.”

Menquist squinted the other eye. “White powder.”

“You know where they’re from?” Edmon asked.

“You’ve described Wellseekers of Isnumur,” Menquist said.

Edmon buried his head into his hands.

“Are you alright, my lord?” Arthero asked.

“Just a headache,” he answered. “Menquist…they rode past me. They were that close. If they knew who I was…”

“Mazi was a prize for the Wellseekers,” Menquist said. “Edmon would have been a greater prize.”

“He said his name,” Arthero said. “Sorrow…Sorrowm—”

“Savaman?” Kidu asked.

Menquist sighed. “Sarvamang. He leads the Wellseekers. There are three factions of the Isnumurti: The Sword is their military force, commanded by General Gnonobod. It was Gnonobod who led their armies across the Aredun border and took New Hearth. The Table is their religious arm, led by a cruel priest named Ramkris. They are trying to reenact rituals that would bring about ancient magic.”

“Magic?” Arthero scoffed. “Such nonsense.”

“And then there’s the Wellseekers, a relentless group of hunters who kidnap and imprison their prey,”Menquist continued. “Sarvamang is the most dangerous of the three. And this news means he may already be in Kienne by now.”

“And perhaps headed to Lanfrydhall to find me,” Edmon said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We don’t know that,” Menquist said. “They could have been scouts for Gnonobod.”

“Why do they want you?” Kidu asked Edmon.

Edmon looked out the window of the carriage. It was coming to a stop as they neared their destination.

“To eat me,” Edmon replied.