Sieged

Chapter Four

Back in the outer city, I take the carriage to the sheriff's keep, once again freeing May to let her wander and rest. She has pulled me enough today. I then start towards the Dumps, patrolling as I go. It's time to question a certain shady someone about what happened last night at the apothecary. And I wouldn't be surprised if he knew something about the theft of the food at the granary. 

As I walk, and as the cloud-cloaked daylight shines brighter and brighter, the city begins to come alive with what it can muster. I see the extent of the damage the wooden dragons caused. They laid waste to so many more buildings. The rain doused the flames but they're mostly all uninhabitable now. Let's hope the families who lost their homes can find somewhere else to live. Otherwise, it's the dark and damp bunkers for them. 

The rain begins to let up as I trudge across Gryphon's Market Square, a large statue of the winged beast collecting bird shit once again. A few people set up stalls with what little things they can sell. And not for money like it was before, but for trade. Money is useless now, it only good for melting down. 

Being that it's in the far southeast, it takes some time before I get to my destination. Though the city feels smaller -- a cage would -- it's still its vast and sweeping wen. 

The Dumps, the poorest district, sticks out like a sore dragon's thumb, jutting out of the city's almost round shape. Walled high on all sides, a result of a violent riot a dozen years ago, the residents are kept inside to fend for themselves. 

The devil's drawbridge, the only supposed passage in and out spans a moat of spikes, another precaution of the riot. Usually it only opens once a month to let in rations, but they'll open it for me. 

'Coming in, sheriff?' shouts a soldier on the wall above the drawbridge. Wearing a brown cape with an emblem of a beheaded snake, his only duty is to make sure the residents of the Dump stay inside. There are several of them, all armed to the teeth, more so than a soldier in the army. 

I nod. 

The drawbridge slowly creaks open from the top, the sound of chains starting to grind. Then it starts to drop faster until it lands with a crash, sending mud showering over me. 

I grumble and my coat soaks in the filth, it becoming a heavy, swamp-smelling heap. 

I thump across the drawbridge and over the spikes, the same old sun-bleached skeletons impaled at the bottom. 

Passing under the opened portcullis gate, the same soldier peers over the wall on the other side and asks, 'Here to make arrests? Need any assistance? I'm here to serve.' 

I wouldn't trust any of the soldiers here to make an arrest unless I wanted the suspect peppered with arrows and dead. 

Shaking my head in response, a rat weaves between my feet, cheeping. It's fat, ready to birth. It scurries away, dirt-caked children wearing sacks for clothes close behind with makeshift spears in their hands. I keep watch as I walk away, the rat diving under a bloated man hunched over on the street, a blood-soaked cap covering his face. 

The children rush over and start poking. The man doesn't budge. And with one good whack of a spear, the man flops over, exposing a nest of feeding vermin. The dead man's ass is shredded through his pants. 

I'm not shocked. I've seen worse here. I've seen worse on the battlefield. 

I don't know how many piles of shit I rifle past as I make my way through the Dumps, the reason it was named as such. The smell is unbearable, wishing I was inhaling berry weed smoke instead. 

A group of adult males stare at me with hatred in their eyes. It's pure as if an enemy's. 

Unlike the rest of the city, the king deemed adult males here unworthy of being in the army or hold any position in regards to the safety of the city. He doesn't trust them and neither do I. They are bred differently here, a fault of theirs or not. They are not exiled from the city either for many, if not all, would surely join the besieging enemy and fight against us.