Chapter Twenty-Eight

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The streets of Deorun felt like the streets of Zianna.

I trailed after Joen, through Deorun's version of the lower city I had grown up in. Aside for the language, the people and they way they lived seemed almost exactly the same. There were merchants trying to sell what little they had, there were people begging for money and people trying to steal money. I almost could have belonged there.

Joen had figured out the area, but of course, he had also come from this kind of world. Although with his blacksmith forge, he would have made relatively good money. We both kept our heads down and tried not to draw any more attention than we had to.

I didn't stand out, but Joen was given more than few glances. He was probably used to that, I realized. With his dark skin, he didn't fit in with Native Zians or Deorans any more than the Telts did. At least Deorun had a large port, most people probably assumed he was a sailor.

I jogged a few steps to walk beside him. We had never really had a chance to talk, and I could easily watch the crowds and talk at the same time. "Joen? Can I ask you something?"

He nodded with a patient smile. "Your knights have been pestering me with questions, I think I can handle a few more from my rescuer."

"Where are you from?" I asked. Then, as I realized that might be somewhat offensive, to assume he wasn't from East Draulin, I added, "I mean, I know you're from East Draulin. But you're not—you don't sound..."

Joen laughed warmly. "Ah, I see. I am from East Draulin, born and raised. But my mother wasn't. She was from Alvara." He glanced at me, apparently understood the baffled look in my eyes, and continued, "It's a Southern country. I've never been, but maybe one day. My father worked as a sailor for a bit when he was young. When he met my mother and she moved to East Draulin, he decided he was going to stay in the city with her, so he apprenticed with a blacksmith. I inherited the forge when he retired."

"You must make decent money."

"I'd make more if I had a contract with the East Draulin guard. Who knows, now that I've met Lady East Draulin herself, maybe I can work something out. Or maybe... I've really enjoyed training with the knights. Being a knight was a boyhood dream I never really thought I'd get a chance to live out. But trying to live it out on the cusp of war seems... risky."

"I think Tros would support your efforts," I said. It was nice to be able to mention the war god without worrying about whether the person I was talking to would know who he was. I hadn't realized how much I missed talking to someone who believed the same things I did. Tannix referenced my gods fairly often, but I was under no illusion that it was because he believed in them.

"Ah. But what if Catul would prefer I stay a blacksmith?" Joen asked. We walked a little further before he shrugged. "It's complicated. But right now getting home is everyone's main concern. So I'll think about it later. Now, shh."

He stepped up in front of a small wooden booth. The man behind it wasn't surprised by Joen's broken Deoran, which made me assume this was a merchant Joen had visited often. Joen handed him some money—I wondered where it had come from, since I certainly hadn't been the one to steal it—and we walked away with three bags of food. Joen handed me one and slung the other two over his shoulders.

"You want to see the port?" he asked, once we were further down the street.

I nodded. "I need to get some sort of idea for how we're going to steal a ship."

He cast me an almost skeptical glance. "When Lord West Draulin mentioned the idea, I thought he was crazy. But then I thought about what I've seen you do, and the things the knights say about you."

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