Author Artemis
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Chapter 127 - Arrival in Cordova
🕑 Added 2025-10-03 18:00:10 +0000 UTCIt was a leisurely journey of some three weeks from Corto to Cordova, starting in the highlands of the north and following the river Tebro southwest through the plains and valleys. The Smith, the Steward, and the Aspirant Knight stopped in small lodging villages and larger towns, taking in the sights and local delicacies, making full use of the money Suero was given by the Knight’s Order for traveling expenses. James had nothing much to do on the journey, and the Steward taught him the expectations of his role as a retainer.
He was not to bring dishonor to his Lord.
He was to work diligently in carrying out his Lord’s will and advancing his Lord’s goals.
He was to fight to protect his Lord and his Lord’s holdings, if called upon.
James had paled at this, before the Knight assured him that as a Smith, his role would be producing armor and weapons in such cases. This sparked a long and detailed discussion about how lower ranking nobles could be retainers of higher ranking nobles, and historical battles and feuds between nobles within Iberteria, and several wars, which has been edited out of this Legend.
James, as a retainer, was also entitled to several things.
Food and shelter, if unable to procure his own, and protection in case he came under attack. His Lord was also to defend him in matters where his honor was impugned unjustly.
This was further explained as being in case of him being wrongly accused of a crime, his Lord was obligated to speak in his defense and try to clear up the matter.
This didn’t mean that James could get away with crimes: far from it. If he were to commit a crime, and his Lord found out, his Lord would be the first to bring him to justice. In a way, the Aspirant Knight was the first arbiter of justice when it came to James.
Though James was more interested in free food and shelter.
“It’s not free,” the Steward insisted. “You will be working for our Lord. If he commissions work, that will be your first priority, before all others, even commissions you accepted earlier. And you have been ordered to undergo training.”
James, however, couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. “Yes, of course.”
The Knight chuckled. “We’ll see how you feel when you actually the taste the food at Cordova’s Order barracks.”
It couldn’t possibly be worse than the tentacle monster had been.
In the final days of their journey, the river bent away from the road, and the road climbed up hills, and the Spring winds grew strong enough that they had to shutter some of the windows of their carriage. Their final lodging before Cordova was a large inn, separate from any village or town, nestled near the top of the not-quite mountains. A resort where the wealthy and powerful of Cordova could get away, enjoy some fresh air, and visit the local hot springs.
The smell was so bad to James that it put him off his appetite for the first time since leaving the Dungeon, and he had a hard time sleeping.
So it was that, early in the morning, their carriage crested the peak of the hills and revealed the Plains of Cordova in the first rays of dawn.
Flat lands extended to the horizon, where low-lying hills glowed in the light on one end, and were cast in deep shadow on the other. The river Tebro swung back into view after its hundred mile detour, cutting through the plains and providing irrigation for hundreds of farms, each bigger than James’ entire village had been. The farms were a streak of freshly-tilled and seeded earth beyond which large herds of various animals wandered the fallow portions of the plain.
And in the center was Cordova, the city on the hill.
The hill was a low lying bump in the center, rising gradually out of the flatlands below until suddenly cut off by high walls. Within the walls could be seen more buildings, though the two largest were clearly visible: a gleaming white conglomeration of spires on the far, southern side of the city were the Grand Cathedral of Cordova, and even higher than that, in the center, was the Royal Castle of Iberteria.
A spindly tower on the western side was easy to overlook as the eye was drawn to a series of larger and larger windmills, in a line from the edge of the Tebro up the hill to the walls.
Looking closer, James spotted other buildings that might be windmills near each farmer’s house, dotted throughout the fields, but they lacked sails on their arms, standing motionless unlike their larger cousins. Those were spinning steadily in the Spring wind, pumping water from the Tebro up into the walled city.
The Steward chuckled as the Smith gasped. “Yes, it’s quite a sight, isn’t it?” He breathed in deeply, and sighed. “Almost home.”
The Knight clapped him on the shoulder. “Yes, almost home. You’ve served me well these last two years, Sebastian.”
“I go where you will, my Lord,” he responded, then climbed onto the carriage and took up the reins one more time.
The descent from the hills took half a day, zig-zagging down the slope. Then it was a flat, straight road to the capital. There was a long line of carts and carriages waiting to enter through the Northern gates, but the Steward turned them to the left, to the Eastern gates. James had seen the larger Northern gates from a distance, and had marveled at how large they were, but the Eastern gates were even larger, well over twenty yards tall, made with thick wood and banded in steel, set into heavy, thick stone walls.
There was a smaller gate to the side, only four yards tall, sized more appropriately for carriages and foot traffic.
“This is the Army Gate,” the Knight offered. “we’ll get in much faster here than at the Traveler’s Gate.”
And so it was. There was no line here, and when they pulled up at the gate a guard wearing a faded red and gold tunic under chainmail, with a slightly too-large open-faced helm and holding a spear, approached, examined the Knight’s paperwork, and waived them on in.
“Welcome back to Cordova, Sir Cortez.”
As told before, James restrained himself to sitting still as he looked out the windows. They passed through a long tunnel before passing another gate, and then entered the city. There was a wide open parade ground, flanked by squat, stone buildings before a sharp slope of cramped buildings leading up towards the Castle high above. The sun was, even this early in the afternoon, starting to fall below the higher buildings in the west, promising an early evening and extended dusk to this part of the city.
To James’ surprise, they didn’t linger in this section. They passed through it, and then through another gate, this one of wrought iron, set into thinner stone walls designed primarily to separate the area from the rest of the city, and then they entered into an incredibly broad road. There were tall buildings, with glass windows dotting the walls indicating at least four interior floors, and shallow roofs of tile. The road was separated into two wide lanes, with what appeared to be a garden or park in the center, with trees and flowers and statues and fountains, and a footpath in the center. Men and women wearing fine clothes walked leisurely along the path, with carts and carriages keeping to the cobblestone roads on either side, and there was even two more footpaths, between the buildings and the roads themselves.
James was astounded. He had grown up in a village with dirt paths, and his father’s fields could have fit into the garden between the roads with room to spare.
It took all his self-control to limit himself to what he could see through the tiny carriage window, and not stick his head out and take it all in at once.
It was yet another hour of sitting in the carriage, trying not to fidget, before they ascended to almost the Castle itself. One level below, on a leveled bit of land overlooking the rest of the city and even over the city walls to the Plains below, was the Headquarters of the Knights Order of Iberteria. There was a surprisingly small stable next to a courtyard of leveled dirt, surrounded by a ring of greenery and tall, box-shaped buildings without visible roofs. At the far end of the courtyard was the only building that had a balcony: a single large one, jutting out from the building directly above its main entrance.
This was the Mustering Grounds.
After a long day of sitting, which had proven surprisingly tiring, James was put to work carrying their luggage to their assigned rooms. The Aspirant Knight had a large suite on an upper floor of the Knights’ Building, with an attached, smaller suite for the Steward, who also functioned as the Knight’s Head Attendant. Though it was up three flights of stairs, it was less stairs than those between the different floors of the Dungeon, and he bore it without the slightest complaint.
This was noticed.
Then, carrying his own small box, containing only several changes of clothes and his papers, he was guided by the Steward to a separate building, the Servants’ Building, which was much closer to the stables and, judging by the sounds of crashing metal ringing out discordantly, multiple smithies.
James trembled with excitement.
He was introduced to the Squire on Duty, paperwork was filed, and a Maid led him to one of the smallest, meanest rooms in the building. There was a small bed, unmade, with a tidy stack of blankets and a thin pillow. A narrow wardrobe occupied one corner, near a tall, narrow window of cloudy glass, not even wide enough to put his head through. There was no fireplace, just a tiny desk and stool.
The Maid swiftly made up the bed for him, and then stood up straight, eyes flicking over James before turning to the Steward.
The Steward looked down his nose at James, being still several inches taller. “Well, Smith? What do you think?”
James grinned guilelessly. “It’s great,” he said over the sound of metal crashing just outside his window.
The Maid’s eyes widened at that. She was dressed much as Clara had been, back in Corto: a black, long sleeved dress with a white apron and headband, hair pulled back into a bun. A simple, yet striking uniform that was easy to wash, yet when clean looked pristine, neat, and tidy. Like most everyone James had seen today, she had olive skin and dark hair and eyes.
The Steward nodded. “Good.” He turned to the Maid. “That will be all.”
“Thanks for making the bed! I’m James, Sir Cortez’s Smith.”
“…” The Maid looked up at the Steward questioningly before turning back to the Smith and nodding. “...Laila. Nice to meet you.” She said quietly. To the Steward: “Anything else, señor?”
“No, that will be all.”
Laila bowed and left.
The Steward made sure that the Smith could lock and unlock his room himself, took the spare key, and then showed James to the baths and the toilets—James was amazed by the flush mechanism—and to the Dining Hall, where meals were served four times a day: morning, noon, night, and midnight, for those who were on a night schedule. After dinner, for which the Aspirant Knight was absent, the Steward gave James his directions for the morrow.
“In the morning, get directions from the Squire on Duty to the Smithing Guild down in the city, and sign up for training.”
“Wait, wait!” James said, suddenly panicked.
“By myself?”
