Portsmouth

         It was not the largest port city in the world, nor was it the largest city in Acacia; but unlike the port cities in the mainland it was unique in the way that a certain face is unique. No one walking through it could have mistaken it for Forecourt, or Nåstòvnik, or any other port city of going concern. Its legacy in the years to come, a legacy born this very day, would grant it a mystique unprecedented in the land of Acacia. Like many Acacian cities, its geography did not lend itself to the ease for which it was built; high cliffs and steep rocky hills made the city look as if it had been built on an uneven and winding staircase. Every surface, from the roads to the buildings' facades, was grey. Among being the most important port city in Acacia it was also home to the largest number of thieves and beggars, though how this arrangement came about was a mystery even to its inhabitants.

         Portsmouth was just the way Kaedon remembered it; the way it was when he had come only two years before as a frightened and determined young lad. The grey cobblestone streets crawled with activity like an ant mound crawls when stirred up. Merchants, shady and otherwise, haggled with passersby. Sailors bargained with prostitutes and tradesmen worked tirelessly to feed all of the city's hungry demands. The cold, earthy, smoke-filled west wind battled with the warmer, salty east wind; lashing hair and fur alike, which seemed to heighten the bustling of a city and its people already in the throes of urgency. Sunlight fought its way through the thick, low blanket of clouds that blackmailed the city with the threat of rain and its consequences on unfinished business. The streets of Portsmouth were the shrines of unfinished business. Finished deals, on the other hand, were attended to at the docks or in the shops, and sometimes in dark corners of the winding streets. Unlike the city Kara, which was labyrinthine, Portsmouth was a true maze, and with the exception of a few signs notifying travelers and merchants of what district they were in, it was often impossible to tell just exactly where one was at any given time.

         One such merchant, shady or otherwise, bumped by in his cart. Skibbo was quite unaware of the man who was following him; he was in fact a little distracted with a bigger problem at the moment.
"Stop that!" he shouted over his shoulder.
"Sorry,” replied an invisible voice.
"Stop talking people will think I'm crazy!"
"You're the one shouting," Kaedon replied from beneath the tarp of the horse-drawn cart. He poked his head up one last time as he finally settled down, as comfortably as he could, over the cargo.
Skibbo began to grow a little red in the face as he thought about that. He was not accustomed to letting a boy have the last word on him, but he quickly saw the futility in arguing. This was a rather unusual boy, he had to admit.
         They arrived shortly after Noonfare, during a temporary lull of activity. The shopkeepers were only now beginning to pull out their candles in anticipation of  Solicetide.
          Some years ago a few merchants had taken to lighting large candles behind colored glass in the front of their shops to attract customers, and the invention quickly spread throughout the city. Though daylight still prevailed, a few shopkeepers were already lighting up their shops. The result of such displays was a welcome cascade of color on the otherwise grey and pallid backdrop of the streets and walls. It was still new enough to inspire awe even for those who had seen it a thousand times. Now however, it was the source of some irritation for merchants attempting to sell pearls, only to have them cast in a yellowish-red hue and even a bigger problem for Skibbo who was accustomed to transacting business in more secluded places.
"How can you see through that thing," Skibbo whispered, it was a question this time; unlike the many times he had said it before out of sheer astonishment.
"Easily enough." Kaedon remained elusive out of habit.
"Humph," Skibbo harrumphed, clawing irritably at his unshaven face.
          Skibbo may have left it at that, but his mind wandered in the way that merchants sometimes do. Kaedon sensed another line of questioning coming as they clopped down another street which appeared more like an alley to him.
"I don't suppose you brought any extra money?" Skibbo blurted out. Kaedon brought his attention back to the matter at hand. He reached into his tunic, and gently caressed the rim of his crest for a moment while he thought.
"Yes." Kaedon said simply.
"Yes you've got more money than I know about or yes you've got your purse?"
"Yes, I still have the purse, and no, I don't have any extra money." This time it was Kaedon's turn to be irritated.
         The cart in front of them slowed nearly to a stop and Skibbo seized the opportunity to fix an untrusting gaze at the tarp were he believed his traveling companion to be. Kaedon met the gaze through the tarp and after a brief moment, sensed that the old codger had made up his mind to believe him.
"Don't look at me like that," he said as he focused his attention back on the reigns, "It makes me edgy."
"How can I look at anything through this tarp," he replied sardonically.
"And don't be coy with me, you know what I mean."
Kaedon tried unsuccessfully to conceal a smirk.
"Whole damned world is full of fools," he said more to himself than to Kaedon, "And the men we'll be meeting won’t enjoy your sense of humor."
"Who are we meeting?"
    Skibbo paused for a moment, and then smirked himself. Gypsy, the wolf pup, would have growled her disapproval at Skibbo’s smugness and did in fact try. Had it not been her nap time it may have been an impressive growl instead of a yawning bray.
    The old man took to the roads like he had lived there all his life, though Kaedon suspected that he had never lived anywhere for any length of time. Soon he became dizzy and slightly suspicious that the old man was lost and keeping it to himself.  Then quite suddenly they came to a stop.
“What is-“
“Shhh,” Skibbo shushed.
    For a brief moment Kaedon could feel his heart beat in his chest like the thunderous clopping of a single hoof against his cobblestone breastplate. Suddenly a shriek pierced the still, warm air followed by an ominous thud. The tarp that Kaedon had forced himself to focus on was whipped back revealing an unfamiliar evening sky.
“Hurry ,” Skibbo’s voice was a mix of urgency and silence
“Huh?” Kaedon wanted to demand what was going on but he had never heard his new friend’s voice sound so serious and desperate. He reached up and climbed out of the cart planting his feet on the Portsmouth streets for the first time in years. The years had passed quickly and in the excitement and dread of all that was happening Kaedon forgot how thrilling and scary new ground could be.
“Find somewhere to hide,” Skibbo whispered.
Kaedon was perplexed. There was nowhere to go much less hide behind, but before he could collect his thoughts he felt Skibbo’s hand on his back pushing him between his shoulder blades. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to crash headlong into the stone wall. Kaedon held his forearms up in an ‘X’ to soften the blow, his eyes clenched shut in anticipation.
“Stay there,” Skibbo’s voice came from around the corner of the wall.
“Where are you?”
“You are in the thieve’s corridor, quiet.”
Kaedon shook his head as he tried to make sense of his new surroundings. The stone walls were so close together and so evenly spaced that it took him a full minute to regain his sense of depth. When he finally did he could clearly see the courtyard he had been standing in, and the narrow, stone egress he had been forced through.
Boom!
A crash of hoofbeats cluttered themselves in Kaedon’s ears and he panicked. All at once he broke into a run, down narrow stone passageways twisting and winding. Until he felt as if his lungs were on fire and no matter how hard he tried to gasp he could never force in all the air that he needed. He half collapsed and stopped with hands on his knees, heart pounding, he felt his breath slow slowly. Boom boom boom … went the soft thubs of his heart against his hot neck with cold wet skin.
Where had he been? Or perhaps more importantly where was he now? His heart picked up its beat as he began to panic now at the thought that he may be utterly lost. He felt the soft fur on his cheek as he swung around, and suddenly he remembered that he was really very cold, cold and alone.

He struggled with the passageways but they did not yield any clues, all looked much the same as the other. The desperation of the moment when knowing when one is truly lost sunk into Kaedon like a brick. He quickened his footsteps making other passageways slip by like a pack of cards and suddenly he heard it.
Thwak!
A searing shock of pain and his eyes rested on his feet.