Chapter 33

The Sacred City was prosperous, but like every other city, it had its own slums. Located at the northwestern part of the city was a group of squalid wooden houses, and near where the wall was were straw huts. In one of the huts, a man sat in silence, staring at a candle. He was around fifty and had on a pure-white wizard's robe. There were no windows in there, and since he could not pull aside the piece of fabric used as a door, the candle was necessary for him to see what was around him. A carriage came toward the slum. It was slow and appeared old, a fitting appearance for the slum. If it was lavishly decorated, the residents would all be gathered around the street, trying to catch a glimpse of the carriage. The curtain of the carriage was pulled aside and someone observed the slum from the inside. Then he jumped out of the carriage and hurried into the hut. "My Lord!" he called. "Trouble, my lord! Trouble!" He was clearly a high level swordsman, which made his action of kneel