The following morning, the crew of the 'Lady Lesel' got about their business after a cold breakfast. Sir Maldan Harabor did not appear from the cabin until well after the craft was underway down the river again. The day itself was overcast with a light rain, and those not needed for working the ship huddled under cloaks to stay as dry as possible. The lands to the right of the Kald were open fields and meadows, but uncultivated, overgrown, wild. Similar were the woods to the left, but it was not long before the talbar passed a few manors on that side. Through midday was another long stretch of uninhabited woodland, and at one point, the river snaked north, compelling the crew to row for a time until they rounded and returned to a southeasterly course.
But one more manor was passed before the Kald was joined to the left by another large tributary, this one the Shem. From here, it was a short time until, in the distance, the gray roofs and walls of Tashal could be seen. Here, the crew unstepped the mast, and rowed the rest of the way. The city was enormous - dwarfing Geldeheim and Olokand, bigger, it seemed, than Golotha as well. The 'Lady Lesel' oared serenely under an impressive three-span stone bridge, and made for a small wharf just beyond the more impressive caer. As at Olokand, the river traffic made way for the Sheriff's boat, and the man himself was at the bow, peering intently at the city. With practiced ease, the oarsmen pulled in the sweeps at just the right moment for the talbar's momentum to carry her the rest of the way to the dock. Made fast, Sir Maldan debarked first, and soon, the warband, the escort, and the gear were ashore. A few longshoremen were quickly hired to carry the gear, and the group set off.
Tashal was a very gray city: buildings, walls, and streets in cedar, stone, or cobblestones. One building looked much like another as the group walked due east, the locals staring - some at Sir Maldan, but more at the sight of a viking warband. The city had a smell too - a malodorous combination of bodily waste, bodily odor, and decaying refuse. None of these smells were unfamiliar, but to all save Vagnar and Laenvan they were unfamiliar in this concentration. Vagnar hardly notices ...
It is late in the day, and the sun is setting. The group reaches a large square, which Laenvan recalls is the main market of the city. There are still vendors hawking goods, but many are beginning to close up for the day, and customers are few. Several impressive stone buildings ring this square, the commercial heart of the city. It is here that Sir Maldan and two of the guards split off from the group and head north. Sir Hearn, the rest of the escort, and the longshoremen with the gear continue through the square.
The group walks through the endless city, the tenor of the locals changing slightly, and it's clear that they've entered a rougher section. Though it's unlikely the warband would have any trouble with the local toughs - even without their weapons - a weaker group might have been in some difficulty.
Eventually, the group emerges from the long lane, and beholds a large gate, yet rather than go through it, they turn left onto another endless-looking street. Along the right hand side of this one, however, are a couple of walled compounds. The first appears to be an inn or a tavern, but the second has a door painted half yellow and half brown and bearing a sundered claw - the sign of Ilvir. None of the vikings are pleased to see a temple to the craven lord. Even more surprising is but a few doors up they arrive at another walled compound. This one has a proper gate, above which are a pair of crossed axes - the sign of the gray slayer!
Sir Hearn pulls the bellrope, and before long a young man, tall and blonde comes out and opens the gate.
"Greetings, sir knight," he says.
"And to you," replies Sir Hearn politely. "I have with me a group of Ambassadors from the King of Orbaal. Will your father house them as they seek an audience with the King's Grace?"
"Gladly," says the young man. "They shall be most welcome to share our hall."
With that, the longshoremen deposit the warband's goods - including the weapons chest - inside the gate.
Sir Hearn turns to Igon. "Lord Seld, you and your men should be comfortable here. I do not know how long it will take for an audience to be granted, but I'm sure the Sheriff will send word as soon as he knows. In the meantime, if you wish to explore the city, you are free to do so. However, while I know how you and your men feel about being unarmed, I would still advise you not to go about the city with conspicuous weapons. The watch may detain you, and it could cause trouble for you and your mission."
He holds out his hand. "Good luck."