Large sandstone walls loomed before him at the end of his run. They were more than twice his height and stretched out in every direction, holding the city secure from foolish invasion. He needed an entrance, however, and so he followed the wall toward the south and soon came to a guard station.
“Stop!” commanded one of the armored men at the gate. “Explain your purpose.”
Breathless, Garinor hesitated and then composed himself. He drew himself upright and announced, “I am Garinor and I have need of shelter and food.”
Cold eyes squinted down and surveyed the boy critically. “You haven’t a coin on you. In what manner will you pay for food and shelter?”
“I—I don’t know,” he answered honestly.
One of the other guards laughed and came over, slapping his comrade on the back. “You’ll make the boy faint if you keep looming over him like that. Here, lad, take this to Copperwell’s, have a bite and talk to the owner. If he likes you, he might let to nap for a few hours. After that you’re on your own.”
“Th—thank you!” his eyes widened, accepting the offered silver coin.
The first guard grumbled threateningly at Garinor. “If I hear or see any misdeeds by your hand, be certain that I, Xagron, will tear you limb from limb.”
“Y—yes, sir.” Garinor trembled then darted inside.
As he passed the entryway, he heard the first guard turn to his companion. “I swear, you’re softer than melted butter. Are you going to give me coins next?”
“Nah, you can just scare them out of the little ones, ‘Xagron’ today, is it?” The voice melted into laughter, which the first guard shared. Garinor moved on.
His morning had been filled with the terror of being captured or killed, but the fear that filled him now was something else entirely. The main street of Kallinoria was immense and the number of people on its streets was something he had never imagined possible. He suddenly felt like he was a drop of water in a large sea. How would he ever even keep track of himself?
On the flip side, he doubted he would be easily spotted, either. He tried to calm his racing heart, wondering how so much stone and wood could even have been brought to one location like this, and he kept walking on.
He was ushered aside many times as he went by people who apparently had much more important things to do than to watch where they were going. One particularly nasty bump splattered Garinor to the cobblestone road and it was all he could do not to let go of the silver coin. He squeezed it so hard it dug painfully into his hand, but he didn’t care. It was the only tangible thing he had to hold on to that made him feel like he even had a chance of making it through here.
He had assumed, like in his village, that the place the guard had recommended would be right near the entrance. Thus he hadn’t pocketed the coin, but now he wondered if he’d ever find Copperwell’s at all. He tried asking a few of the passersby, but not only were they busy, they were rude to dirty street urchins, too. He would have to find the place on his own.
The one thought that held him together was that the guard had given him the coin freely and out of his own pocket. Surely he wouldn’t have wasted it and sent the boy on a fool’s errand. He must have thought that Copperwell’s was easy enough to find, even by a hungry young traveler.
So it was that Garinor lifted his head higher as he walked. Though he didn’t follow the pace of the crowd, he found he could walk steadily and not be trampled nearly as often. His eyes raked all the signs as he went. His parents had insisted he learned to read and he was grateful for that now, though as he passed the words on each sign, he also recognized pictures that would clue him in even if he had been completely illiterate.
Rose’s Saloon had a foaming mug of mead with a bright red rose sticking out of it. Kaysar’s Carpentry shop had the standard of a key, a saw, and a hammer and nails. Red’s Smithy boasted a glowing scarlet anvil with sparks flying off it. Shalinda’s Dresses was advertised by a golden dress with angelic wings sprouting out the back and extending beyond the sign itself.
His favorite was the sign outside Oinar’s Mask shop. In the corner of the sign was a large, rough-hewn letter ‘R’ with an ‘O’ inside the loop, but it was the rest of the sign that caught Garinor’s attention. It was painted like a skinny man in basic travel clothes, but where his head would be was a round cutout that spun in the breeze. On one side was the man’s smiling face and on the other was the depiction of a comedic mask. When the breeze was strong, it spun so fast it appeared as if the man was actually wearing the mask.
Garinor meandered down the main road for nearly an hour and took in every painted sign and peered into some of the windows, but he dared not enter any location. If he had known at that moment that the road he was on was only one of over a hundred thick and bustling roads of the center city, and those were surrounded then by the outskirts of the city and so on, he would have collapsed on the spot in total awe. The city had appeared huge from outside but seeing up close was overwhelming.