Neil nabbed a length of rope from the juniper desk and used it to tie up a sackcloth to place in the loot they had gathered. He wished he could keep the chest, but they needed to hurry as is. He placed the chest down as Ibrahim grabbed the last of the horses to take, Calliope watching him like a hawk. As he placed the chest down, a small compartment in the wood creaked up from within. Neil raised an eyebrow, suspicious of a trap but too curious not to check. He grabbed a small utensil from the desk and pulled the small pocket open, and within was a small dagger with a jeweled, ivory hilt. He shrugged and took it, sliding it within the folds of the rope and heading out into the sun. 

"Let's go, we need to get out of here before Hakim and the others return." Calliope said, holding the reins of the horse as if she were born to the saddle. Both he and she would need new clothes, but even her bedraggled and ruined dress from Bania still fit her well, and the furs added to the panache. Ibrahim clung to the saddle, and Neil merely hopped on and let Calliope ride them out of there. The palms threatened to scythe them as they rode, but she weaved through the trees quickly and a few ducks later, the party was out of the small patch of life amidsts the arid sands. 

"Where are we going, again?" Neil asked. 

"Ragbah Shahir! The greatest city in the world!" Ibrahim exclaimed, though his excitement did not seem entirely genuine when he glanced back at the isle of date palms fading away, likely wondering if he did the right thing there. 

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Amidst the Golden Gulf lay a city, larger than any in the world. Riches beyond measure lay within its walls and the greatest minds from across the world dwelt in its Academy of Wisdom. It is said the Djinni made the city as the center of their power on Torek, or whatever that meant. The boy talked a lot, clearly wanting to show off and impress his new 'friends.' Neil wasn't sure how much was truthful or not, and he was certain the Basilaens would have something to say about Basilos not being considered the greatest city in the world, but as long as it had good foot and a soft bed, he was happy. 

It was the next day now, and the horse loped over the sand with a ginger trot. The ground had grown less soft, more sure of itself. Small tufts of grass began to appear, and soon birds were seen flocking and making great shapes in the sky. The air, though hot, grew less dry, and soon in the distance if one looked north, they would see a line of ocean that shimmered in the sun. Neil only gave it a passing glance, more impressed with the city that now loomed on the horizon. The kid had been bluffing a little, but it was still impressive. 

Massive spires of white stone with golden domes towered over the landscape, and larger albeit more squat buildings of coppery color were cut open with arches the shape of broad sword points. Sandstone buildings with vengefully colorful tarps and drapes caught the eye, and every other color under the sun was displayed by flags or great works of artistry in the stone, and Neil could see all of this from the small glimpses he caught before they entered the walls. If nothing else, the city was grandiose and loud about it. 

The wall was a huge structure, sunbaked but smooth as if made of marble. Grim faced men wearing lamellar armor and sporting helms with sharp spear points patrolled and guarded the three large entryways, holding large spears. The thief caught either moon-bladed axes or cruelly shaped maces at their belts. Each gate they defended was made from some different material. Bronze, Iron, and Brass if Neil had to guess, but he didn't ask. As they lazily approached, Calliope looked curious, her sharp eyes darting around, but kept herself from speaking. Ibrahim knelt behind Neil, warily looking at the men who watched them approach. Neil followed his gaze, and realized he wasn't looking at the normal men. 

There were figures there, standing head and shoulders above the normal soldier. They were slightly lighter of skin, but still suntanned. They sported great beards and red eyes that glinted malevolently. Horribly, every time Neil saw one speak, he heard three voices. It must have been a trick of the crowd.

They weren't the only ones on the road, of course. Once the three of them had crested the hell, caravans and what seemed to be peasants and refugees swarmed like ants besides what one might call the 'mound' of the city. Though they were glared at, they were not stopped. Most cities in the west would have stopped them and asked to give a tax to enter, but either they had given up that practice here as a generous policy, or more likely the riches of Al’ardbahja lay elsewhere. Immediately their nostrils were assaulted with wonderful spices and perfumes, and as they continued, hookah smoke wafted from windows and opened doorways.

"Ok, now what kid?" Neil asked, and Calliope raised an eyebrow to showcase she was listening. 

"We can go to the bath houses..." He said hesitantly. "You both smell."

"I want somewhere comfortable and more private." Calliope insisted. 

"Good idea, we can go on our third date." Neil jested, mostly trying to be a tad silly. Though he was getting a little impatient on it. Calliope just winked at him subtly, but watched Ibrahim. The little boy nodded and nodded.

"I know just the place. It overlooks the bazaar and part of the gardens. It's called the Brass Lamp. Good bath, good food, great arak or...so I'm told." He said shyly. "Just keep to the side of the street. You never know if one of the Sultan's relatives is showing off their elephants or tigers."