There were two specific entry gates into the city within the questionably sturdy stone wall that surrounded it—one on each opposite end of the wall. It was fifteen feet high, easily climbable, and would’ve been the way I’d taken in if I didn’t have company.

Tom steered the horses down one of the two dust roads wide enough for this giant coach, at a crawling pace to avoid all the shoppers. Superfluous coaches with cushioned seats weren’t a novelty to this city anymore. But I’d lived here for seven years, ever since Jember was hired for this position with the church, and I had rarely seen one parade through the streets like this. Usually they were only on their way out.

About a mile from the center square where the church stood, the two main roads ended and became one large circle around the inner section of the city. Here there was an expansive goat market, a station where travelers could leave their animals, and where the rich left their coaches. There were already a few camels, donkeys, and horses in the stalls. I got out of the coach just as Tom climbed down from his perch. He handed the boys who walked up to us some money, and they began unhitching our horses without a word.

Tom held out his hand to Emma, who took it and used the other to press her wide-brimmed hat wider. Despite her face being completely shaded, she grimaced. “It’s already so hot. We shouldn’t stay long.”

I eyed their clothing choices, as I’d done before we left, but it was a little too late to say anything. Although they weren’t wearing their wool, it was a similar style that seemed too heavy and constricting for the climate. The waists of Emma’s dress and Tom’s pants were right up against their bodies like they were tempting sweat. The truth was it was barely hot yet, but anyone would feel stifled so bound up in fabric, no matter what the weather.

“How long is ‘long’?” I asked.

“Well, we want to make the visit worth the long drive.” Emma looked at Tom to agree with her. “I could probably stand an hour.”

He nodded. “That’s long enough for a little breakfast. We’ll need that energy for when Peggy rails on us.”

An hour. When the drive round trip was twice as long. Illogical, but the least of my worries at the moment. “An hour it is,” I said. “I’ll meet you back here then.”

I didn’t go straight to the church. Instead I went to the goat market and bought some tej from the herder—the wine he made was stronger and better, not to mention less expensive, than anything the regular food market had. I had a feeling I’d need some liquid courage today.