The Ring of Winter - James Lowder [79]
That seemed to be answer enough to whatever the girl had asked, for the children returned the smile and went their way. Their laughter gave voice to the early afternoon sunshine as they ran across the grass. Soon the children had vanished behind the high shrubs bordering the park.
Alone once more, Artus sat back on the stone bench. He and Sanda had spent most of the night there, talking about Cormyr, Mezro, and any other topic they happened upon. They hadn't given over enough time to common Tabaxi phrases, though Artus had discovered why Sanda found his ignorance of Tabaxi surprising. Lord Rayburton had taught her the basics of a dozen languages; his power as a bara was the ability to comprehend and converse in any tongue, human or inhuman. Over the years, she had come to expect everyone to be able to speak whatever language necessary.
Tabaxi had proved more difficult than the explorer had suspected. In addition to the trade tongue known as Common, Artus spoke four languages. Not even one of them was vaguely related to Tabaxi, however, so he was at a loss to find cognates or any other similarities that would make conversing easier. He remained as he had been on his first day in Mezro-at a loss without an interpreter.
Artus craned his neck and scanned the paths snaking around the small park, through the flowing shrubs and dwarf palm trees. No sign of Sanda. At dawn, she had hurried off to ready herself for her job at the school, promising to return by highsun. She was now almost an hour late.
The explorer was considering a short walk through the Scholars' Quarter surrounding the park when three burly Tabaxi, all carrying shields and clubs, appeared on the path. Their leader, a lanky fellow with a pug nose and custard-colored eyes, pointed at Artus.
Perhaps the children had warned the city watch about the scruffy, white-skinned derelict in the park, Artus decided. He tried to remember the words Sanda had taught him in case of just such an emergency. "Ka Alisanda Rayburton wa'la!" he said to the leader of the trio.
The warriors were unimpressed. The pug-nosed one jabbered at Artus for a moment, his words spilling out so fast most Tabaxi would have had trouble sorting out his meaning. The explorer could only shrug and repeat the phrase, which was supposed to alert any curious locals he was a guest of Sanda's. If it meant anything to the three men, they didn't show it.
Finally the pug-nosed warrior stepped forward and grabbed Artus by the arm. He wasn't rough about it, but when he pulled the explorer from the bench, there was no question of resisting. Even if the men hadn't been armed, Artus wouldn't have argued. The clubs only provided that much more incentive for him to go along quietly.
"I hope you have a nice prison," he said as they hustled him out of the park. "I suppose I'll be spending a lot of time there, at least until Sanda and Rayburton figure out where I am." Even if they couldn't understand a word he said, Artus hoped the warriors would pick up on his genial tone-however forced it was-and decide he wasn't much of a threat.
They hurried through the cramped streets in the Scholars' Quarter, past the massive library and the dozens of specialized schools and laboratories that filled that part of Mezro. Clusters of students, both young and old, milled in many places. Some talked and joked, while others buried their heads in books or just ate their lunches, basking in the sunshine before returning to a dark classroom. Artus and his escort drew the attention of most of those they passed; somehow, though, the explorer got the impression the students were reacting to the warriors' weapons, not his appearance.
At last they reached the central plaza and the oddly beautiful Temple of Ubtao. Growing up in Suzail, Artus had learned to navigate the cityscape using buildings as guides. Now a strange directional vertigo washed over him; as Rayburton had warned, the temple's facade appeared exactly as it