The dawn had not yet fully broken, but the city was already awake.
Zaber opened his eyes in the narrow but clean room of the inn. Light slipping through the barred window fell onto the stone street, revealing the early movements of people below.
The rumble of cart wheels.
The shouts of merchants.
Zaber opened the window.
The air felt different. Not as clean as in the village. It carried a mixture of iron, dust, spices, and human smells.
This was the scent of a great city.
Once he stepped down to the street, he merged into the flow of people.
The roads were wide, yet crowded. People in all kinds of clothing passed by:
Merchants in long robes.
Hired fighters in light armor.
Common laborers with rough hands and dust-covered clothes.
Students hurrying along, clutching books.
Between the streets ran channels of water. In some places, stone bridges arched over them.
As he approached the central square, the noise grew even louder.
