Prompt: Canal City

Thanks to Karl Schulschenk for permission to use his wonderful "Canal City"!

Geoffrey and Banolf followed the lower bridge around the city. They passed a waterfall that looked prettier than it smelled. Banolf looked up and saw the round opening of a duct some thirty feet overhead. He curled his lip at the foul odors from the water. Why do we come here? I don’t like it already.

Geoffrey grimaced. “I don’t like it either. But you know why.”

He scanned the view. The tent city hugging the ramparts along the river was larger than he remembered. They would find the supplies they needed there, but also the potential for trouble. He glanced across the river to the Isle of Flames and saw the endless stream of monks and common penitents carrying their flickering candles to light the prayer wicks that spiraled all around the towering island. He’d lit hundreds before his mother died. Before he left the city in despair, vowing never to return. Another vow he hadn’t kept, apparently. He shrugged.

The upper bridge had plenty of traffic, more than the lower bridge at this hour after sunset. Geoffrey shifted the pack on his back and wondered if Elias was still living in the more genteel shop quarters. His childhood friend had likely followed in his father’s footsteps, learning the jewelsmith trade. He was always marked for an easier life than Geoffrey. When they were young, they hadn’t cared how much should have divided them.

Banolf followed his gaze. We will look for your friend. Do you think he will help us?

Geoffrey shrugged again. “With what we have to trade, how could he not? But I’m hungry, and we need to rest. Come on.” He hesitated. “And please, remember that dogs don’t talk…”

TBC?

Dogs in House	Houdini
Music	Johannes Brahms: String Quintet No. 2 in G Major, Op. 111
Time writing	~20 minutes
April word count	5,539