Afternoon of the twelfth, into the morning of the thirteenth.
Lunch, for this gathered group of Tubbians plus one, was a noisy, sloppy feast of devouring in the name of devotion. Afterward, the full-bellied, middle-aged and elderly men left to their separate rooms (with a trio of spare rooms in the various houses being offered to Treadwell, Alldale, and Maxwell) for a good, long nap there if desired. Snores will roll on through the tiny village; the tubby fellows will actually sleep through supper, for the most part, barring Treadwell who will get up to find himself a snack before returning to bed.
The morning of the thirteenth finds the trio and horse on the road once more after breakfast, for a largely uneventful ride that continues on until dusk on the next day.
The city of Westenford is a large, sprawling metropolis on a cliff overlooking the Sea of Amasynia. Coming slightly downhill into it after an uphill grade for most of the journey gives a decent look of the city itself: buildings residential, religious, and economic sprawl and clutter everywhere, a small river that flows eastward through town and neatly divides it into halves, and to the far side, nearer the edge of the cliff, is a flat, stone plaza surrounded by fallen stone arches and decorative columns.
The carriage is brought to a stop with a tap-tump of Tready's cane on the inside wall. That cane is then waggled out of Treadwell's side window at the various parts of the city, pointing here, bouncing there.
"Westenford is a lovely old town, dear fellow, lovely! Large and massive and old, a center of commerce! To the north, hmm hmm, is what we call the Promenade; it's where, mmph mmph, all of the rich folks live, and, thus, I know it quite, quite well. To the south of the Aeryn River, though, across the bridge and the gate on it, is the, ahem, poorer half of town, which any sensible man or woman will stay well clear of."
A clearing of the throat, and then Treadwell continues.
"The stone plaza there, on the far end, north of the river, hmm hmm? 'Armadon er Domedthron,' in the ancient local tongue everyone's forgotten about over the years! It's the central area where the Parliamentary Ruling Council--or 'Bellies' in the vernacular, hmm hmm, for obvious reasons--meets to oversee the problems and issues that the city's a-having! I've been Chief Magistrate over it all for a number of years, on and off, since I was a young, young fellow, hmm hmm, and I still command a lot of respect here for it! Around that area, you'll find most of the businesses worth anything, hmm hmm, most of 'em owned by the local council members or their families, including my daughter's former pub and, likely, the tailor shop I'm here to take care of!"
A sudden jerk of the cane toward the end of town nearer the coach, bouncing in vision across a mix of steeples and domes before settling on one particularly large, round dome central in the town. "Ahhhh! A new addition! Churches of many faiths, dear Maxwell, mmph mmph, most of 'em Tubbian, as noted by the great, big domes atop! He holds a wonderfully powerful sway here, hmm hmm, and rightly so! In a town so blessedly given to excess and gluttony and wealth--well, at least in half of it!--is it any wonder that belief in Tubbius is, hmm hmm, even stronger here than back in Myrken?"
Aloisius gives a thump on the carriage again, and, in a moment, it jerks into motion. He calls out to Mr. Alldale, driving, "To the stone plaza opposite in town, Jack, and stay clear of the south of the river for all you're worth! None of the poor folks, hmm hmm, care much for all the town magistrates and rich old butterballs who visit 'em!"