“That…that just seems insane,” Drayce mumbled at barely over a whisper.
“It’s not our place to judge how they live their lives and worship their god,” Rayne countered stiffly. Caelan bit his lower lip to keep from chuckling. His advisor might be saying that it was wrong to judge, but the horror in his wide eyes and the wrinkle to his nose proved that he was struggling with just that.
“If their entire existence is about celebration, it’s kind of surprising that they’ve managed to build such an amazing city here,” Caelan observed. He stopped his horse as a group of revelers crossed the street and headed into what was clearly a brothel. The fourth one they’d seen on this stretch of road in the past few minutes. Both men and women wearing very little hung out on balconies overlooking the main street, waving and calling out to people as they passed by.
There was another couple actually engaged in a sex act in one of the windows that had Caelan quickly glancing away, but not before a telltale burn started to creep up to the tips of his ears.
Vale laughed and shook her head. “You can thank the criminals for that.”
“What?”
“The artists create to celebrate the Dead God, but the roads, buildings, and general construction of the place as well as maintenance are largely done as part of a punishment for breaking the law.” Vale guided her horse off the main road and led them down another well-lit but slightly less crowded street, heading toward the west. “There aren’t a lot of laws, but when you break any of the few they have, it’s not like they are going to sentence you to death. No, you must do stuff that helps other people live their lives in celebration of the Dead God. So, criminals are assigned to constructing roads or buildings, maintaining the sewers, and other boring stuff. And if you do a crap job of it, you stay on the work gang longer.”
“Wow…that’s…well, I guess that’s pretty cool,” Drayce murmured.
It was certainly better than just letting them sit in a prison somewhere. They were helping the society they hurt.
They continued on for another twenty to thirty minutes at a leisurely pace through Temit, seeing the different neighborhoods. The strange thing was that there wasn’t a particularly rich neighborhood or a poor one from what he saw. The buildings were similar in that they were all made from stone, but each had different accents from wide arched doorways to windows with rich details. Many of the rooftops were flat and appeared to be used as additional space for celebrations based on the furniture or flickering torches he could see up there.
“Does the government take care of its poor? I’m not seeing much in the way of shanties or homeless in Temit,” Caelan inquired.
“Temit really doesn’t have much in the way of rich and poor. If you are capable of doing some work, you work and can afford a place to live. If you can’t, the KoD usually claims you anyway. All in all, Zastrians aren’t big on material wealth. They make sure their homes are comfortable, but life is more about the experience for them than the accumulation of stuff. All their money is spent out on food, wine, drugs, and sex.” She grinned over her shoulder at him. “That’s why all the homes appear to be roughly the same.”
“Even in Mrtyu?”
Her smile grew even wider. “I’ve never been to Mrtyu, but I’ve heard that the capital city is the exception in all things while Temit is the rule Zastrians are supposed to live by.”
Caelan didn’t know whether he found that to be more or less reassuring.
“Here.” Vale pointed at a brightly lit building rising up in the middle of the street. It towered at least six stories, making it one of the largest they’d seen so far. All the windows were glowing against the darkening sky and several lanterns hung on heavy iron chains outside the main entrance. The front of the building had been painted to look like a black vine was crawling up the front while rich purple blossoms sprung from every limb, giving it a strangely welcoming vibe. “This place is popular with pilgrims attempting to get access to Mrtyu. No one should take notice of us here.”
“Do people in Temit speak only Zastari?” Drayce inquired as he dismounted from his horse.
“You’ll get a better mix in Temit than in the outer villages. Hotels and some shops that carry imports will likely speak more languages. Bars and brothels, not so much. Of course, all you need to do is point to get what you want in those places.”
Caelan dismounted from his horse and his legs nearly gave out the second his feet touched the stone road. Pain shot through muscles he was sure he’d never used before. It was a wonder he could still feel this kind of pain after so many days in the saddle, but then they’d pushed hard the last two in an effort to make up for some lost time.