Wizard's Funeral
“The morning sun is quick to find high, golden porches bright enough to blind a traveller many leagues from the city. Polished lapis lazuli tiles bordering lofty battlements shine with a penetrating blueness. Silver gutters glint with points of light that might come from the divine weaponry of a warrior-deity. The city is a great geometrical flower opening to the morning, the light running and leaping from spire to column to belfry to campanile to fleche, like sacred fire racing from one heavenl...y petal-point to the next. On the battlements stand the Imperial Guardsmen, their helmets flashing, their spearpoints glinting. Around the walls of the city, almost completing the circle but for a man-made tunnel of stone, there to protect the canal all the way down to the sea, stand the red-ochre pavilions of the mercenary army of Carthagans. Their weapons gleam with a duller light. Unlike those of the Imperial guardsmen, which are taken out only to polish before parades and drills, the Carthagan weapons are frequently used in anger.MoreLess
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