Free Lady Carliss and the Waters of Moorue by Chuck Black Page A

Did Malco guard his swamp? There was so much to know and no one they could trust enough to ask. Carliss felt as if she were in an enemy’s camp, disarmed by her lack of knowledge.
    If only a haven of the Prince were here
, she thought. But she had not heard of any missions that had ventured this far north yet.
    They found a bridge over the river to the south and rode into town. As they entered the city gates, Ganoaf seemed extremely uneasy and pressed Chaser close to Rindy. The city was bustling with activity, and the main thoroughfare was a river of wayfarers in constant motion.
    Carliss, Salina, and Ganoaf stayed to the side of the road, out of the main thrust of traffic, but there they encountered beggars every few paces, pleading with the passersby for handouts. One lad caught Carliss’s eye, and she fully expected to hear his plea, but it did not come. The boyjust gazed up at her, well after Rindy had carried her past him. Carliss thought his demeanor odd and turned her head back to look at the lad once more, but he had disappeared into the crowd.
    The city of Moorue was densely structured, with shops and homes that seemed to nearly sit atop one another. Except for the three or four main thoroughfares, the streets were narrow and crooked. Nearly all were cobblestoned. The air was heavy, damp, and filled with strange smells that did not sit well with Carliss. She found herself crinkling her nose from time to time, searching for a breath of fresh air, but there was none. Every so often she would glimpse a person who seemed dazed and distant, much like the people they had seen in Wallen.
    Carliss and Salina left their horses with Ganoaf near a watering trough and walked to an open-front shop to buy some dried meat, bread, and cheese.
    “New to Moorue?” the owner asked as he placed their groceries in their knapsack.
    “Yes,” Carliss said, reaching into her leather vest for coins. “Anything newcomers ought to know?”
    The owner eyed Carliss suspiciously, then smiled. “Not really.”
    Carliss nodded. She paid the man, then turned and couldn’t help but stare at a man and a woman seated on a bench nearby. They were gazing at something and yet nothing. Both wore a countenance of dazed pleasure and seemed unaware of anything else that was happening around them.
    “What’s with them?” Carliss asked the shopkeeper, nodding to the couple.
    The owner leaned toward Carliss.
    “You
are
new, aren’t you?” he said with a sly smile on his lips. “They’ve been drinking the Waters of Moorue.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Would you like to try some?”
    Carliss shook her head, disgusted at the man’s tone. It unsettled her.
    “Let’s go.” Salina nodded for Carliss to follow her away from the shop.
    “There’s something strange here, just like in Wallen,” Carliss said as they walked toward Ganoaf and their steeds.
    “I agree,” Salina said. “But I can’t see that it matters to us.”
    Ganoaf handed Salina the reins to her horse. When he handed the reins of Rindy to Carliss, he looked at her with frightened eyes and leaned close.
    “Moorue bad,” he said as his eyes darted from one side of the street to the other.
    “I think you’re right, Ganoaf,” she whispered back. “I don’t like it here either.”
    “Excuse me, my lady,” a young male voice called from behind Carliss.
    She turned about to see the same lad who had watched her at the city gate. He was a bit of a ragamuffin, perhaps twelve years old. His face was smudged with dirt and his straight black hair stuck out in jagged tufts. His eyes were narrow but friendly and full of life. Carliss smiled at him.
    “Are you from Brimwick Downs?” the boy asked quietly.
    “No, we’re not,” Carliss replied.
    The lad tilted his head and looked confused. “But the mark…” He pointed to the insignia embroidered onto Rindy’s saddle pad. He held up his hand and looked into his palm, where an inked image had been drawn. It