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emoved from touchstone’s grim past； the threat of rogir/kerrigor and the chilling greyness of death。
“we shall have to be very careful；” sabriel said at last； “and hope that 。 。 。 what was it you said to the elder of nestowe； touchstone？”
he knew immediately what she meant。
“hope that the charter preserves us all。”
。。
chapter xix
，
sabriel had expected belisaere to be a ruined city； devoid of life； but it was not so。 by the time they saw its towers； and the truly impressive walls that ringed the peninsula on which the city stood； they also saw fishing boats； of a size with their own。 people were fishing from them—normal； friendly people； who waved and shouted as they passed。 only their greeting was telling of how things might be in belisaere。 “good sun and swift water” was not the typical greeting in touchstone’s time。
the city’s main harbor was reached from the west。 a wide； buoyed channel ran between two hulking defensive outworks； leading into a vast pool； easily as big as twenty or thirty playing fields。 wharves lined three sides of the pool； but most were deserted。 to the north and south； warehouses rotted behind the empty wharves； broken walls and holed roofs testimony to long abandonment。
only the eastern dock looked lively。 there were none of the big trading vessels of bygone days； but many small coastal craft； loading and unloading。 derricks swung in and out； longshoremen humped packages along gangplanks； small children dived and swam in between the boats。 no warehouses stood behind these wharves—instead； there were hundreds of open…topped booths； little more than brightly decorated frameworks delineating a patch of space； with tables for the wares； and stools for the vendors and favored customers。 there seemed to be no shortage of customers in general； sabriel noted； as touchstone steered for a vacant berth。 people were swarming everywhere； hurrying about as if their time was sadly limited。
touchstone let the mainsheet go slack； and brought the boat into the wind just in time for them to lose way and glide at an oblique angle into the fenders that lined the wharf。 sabriel threw up a line； but before she could leap ashore and secure it to a bollard； a street urchin did it for her。
“penny for the knot；” he cried； shrill voice piercing through the hubbub from the crowd。
“penny for the knot； lady？”
sabriel smiled； with effort； and flicked a silver penny at the boy。 he caught it； grinned and disappeared into the stream of people moving along the dock。 sabriel’s smile faded。 she could feel many； many dead here 。 。 。 or not precisely here； but further up in the city。 belisaere was built upon four low hills； surrounding a central valley； which lay open to the sea at this harbor。 as far as sabriel’s senses could tell； only the valley was free of the dead—why； she didn’t know。 the hills； which made up at least two…thirds of the city’s area； were infested with them。
this part of the city； on the other hand； could truly be said to be infested with life。 sabriel had forgotten how noisy a city could be。 even in ancelstierre； she had rarely visited anything larger than bain； a town of no more than ten thousand people。 of course； belisaere wasn’t a big city by ancelstierran standards； and it didn’t have the noisy omnibuses and private cars that had been significantly adding to ancelstierran noise for the last ten years； but belisaere made up for it with the people。 people hurrying； arguing； shouting； selling； buying； singing 。 。 。
“was it like this before？” she shouted at touchstone； as they climbed up onto the wharf； making sure they had all their possessions with them。
“not really；” answered touchstone。 “the pool was normally full； with bigger ships—and there were warehouses here； not a market。 it was quieter； too； and people were in less of a rush。”
they stood on the edge of the dock； watching the stream of humanity and goods； hearing the tumult； and smelling all the new odors of the city replacing the freshness of the sea breeze。
cooking food； wood smoke； incense； oil； the occasional disgusting whiff of what could only be sewage 。 。 。
“it was also a lot cleaner；” added touchstone。
“look； i think we’d best find an inn or hostelry。 somewhere to stay for the night。”
“yes；” replied sabriel。 she was reluctant to enter the human tide。 there were no dead among them； as far as she could sense； but they must have some kind of acmodation or agreement with the dead and that stank to her far more than sewage。
touchstone snagged a passing boy by the shoulder as sabriel continued to eye the crowd； nose wrinkling。 they spoke together for a moment； a silver penny changed hands； then the boy slid into the rush； touchstone following。 he looked back； saw sabriel staring absently； and grabbed her by the hand； dragging both her and the lazy； fox…fur…positioned mogget after him。
it was the first time sabriel had touched him since he’d been revived and she was surprised by the shock it gave her。 certainly； her mind had been wandering； and it was a sudden grab 。 。 。
his hand felt larger than it should； and interestingly calloused and textured。 quickly； she slipped her hand out of his； and concentrated on following both him and the boy； weaving across the main direction of the crowd。
they went through the middle of the opentopped market； along one street of little booths—obviously the street of fish and fowl。
the harbor end was alive with boxes and boxes of fresh…caught fish； clear…eyed and wriggling。
vendors yelled their prices； or their best buy； and buyers shouted offers or amazement at the price。 baskets； bags and boxes changed hands； empty ones to be filled with fish or lobster； squid or shellfish。 coins went from palm to palm； or； occasionally； whole purses disgorged their shining contents into the belt…pouches of the stallholders。
towards the other end it grew a little quieter。
the stalls here had cages upon cages of chickens； but their trade was slower； and many of the chickens looked old and stunted。 sabriel； seeing an expert knife…man beheading row after row of chickens and dropping them to flop headless in a bo