by Blink, Bob
“Aye,” the merchant said and extended his hand. “Perhaps our paths will cross again. Just be careful. People here are not like those where you grew up. Be slow to trust and don’t allow them to see what you have. The smallest item might be considered valuable by someone.”
They clasped hands, and then Sall sat upright. He snapped the reins and the team started moving once again. He was able to turn them around in a wide spot in the road a short distance ahead, then passed by Rigo on his way back the way they had come, waving as he passed. There was nothing for Rigo to do but walk back inside and go locate his accommodations.
He clomped up the worn wooden stairs and turned down the hall in search of his room. It was located midway down the hall, and the key provided opened the door. Inside it was dark. He realized there were shutters that could be opened, and released the catch and pulled them back revealing a grand view of the ocean. The window had no glass. A series of metal bars were set deep into the hardwood frame of the window, and while a couple rattled loosely, the way they were installed none could be removed without major damage to the window. No one was coming in or going out that way.
With the shutters thrown open allowing the light breeze to permeate the room, the musty smell soon disappeared. There was a small stand of drawers with a candle and flint next to the bed. The bed wasn’t exactly soft, but it was far superior to the hard ground he had become used to. There were only a couple of small holes in the bed covers, and enough blankets he was sure he would be quite warm even with the shutters thrown wide should he so desire.
He set his pack on the bed, and leaned the staff against the wall. They should be safe enough here while he ate. He knew no one would get very far with the staff. Besides, it wasn’t the kind of thing that anyone was likely to steal. The innkeeper had told him he had an hour before they stopped serving. He was quite hungry and decided that food should be the first order of business. Locking the door behind him, he made his way back down to the common room.
There were fewer people present than there had been just a short time ago and Rigo could pick where he wanted to sit. He chose a spot off to one side close to one of the open windows. The evening breeze was bringing in the smell of salt air which was surprisingly fresh here, the somewhat rotten smell no longer present or noticeable.
“Would you like supper?” a soft voice asked from beside him. Rigo hadn’t heard her come over and was somewhat startled. He looked at the serving girl. She was perhaps sixteen, plain looking and demurely dressed. He guessed she was the daughter of the innkeeper, or at least family of some sort. The other server was older, and male. Probably her brother.
“Please,” he replied.
“We have either stew or fish steaks tonight,” the girl replied. “Either comes with a plate of hard bread and house wine.”
Rigo didn’t have to think long. He’d never had fish and wasn’t sure that was something he wanted to try his first night here. He was hungry and decided he would be better served with a solid meal before becoming adventurous with new foods.
“I’ll have the stew,” he told her.
She smiled and nodded. “I’ll be back shortly.”
Rigo surreptitiously studied the other patrons while he waited for his supper to arrive. In the far corner was a family of four. The man and woman had two teenaged children. All were dressed differently than himself, but in clothing that was of the same general quality. Poor. He could hear enough to discover they were planning on a sea voyage the following day. He wondered where they might be going and how they came by the funds for such a trip. Closer to the fire were a couple of burly men in their thirties. They had mugs of something and talked heads together quietly. Rigo wondered if they were sailors or soldiers. The size of the men suggested they were one or the other.
“Here you go,” the girl said surprising him again. She set down a medium sized bowl of the stew and a wooden plate with the bread. Finally she placed a large mug of wine. “There’s seconds on the wine. Call me if you need a refill.” Then she smiled and wandered off leaving him to his meal.
He was shocked by the smell of the stew. Then he realized it wasn’t the meat stew he was familiar with, but a stew made of the locally available food, fish. There were vegetables he couldn’t identify, and a clear broth that was clearly spiced. Cautiously he took a small taste. Different, and he found the texture disquieting. Slowly he chewed and gradually became accustomed to the flavor. After several spoonfuls he decided he liked it. The bread was more than hard, and he ate sparingly of it. The wine was harsh and a little bitter, clearly not the vintage for which Branid was so justly proud. Still, by the time he had finished the bowl, and more of the bread than he’d expected, he was pleasantly full. Once softened by the broth, the bread wasn’t bad either. When the girl came by and offered more wine, he declined. It wasn’t that good and he wanted a clear head. He was remembering the cautions that Sall had so recently given him.
He slept far better than he might have expected, and woke to the call of gulls and the faint wash of the waves breaking on the beach. He grinned and threw back the covers. Today he would see the ships up close. He dressed, then grabbed his staff and headed out, stopping briefly at the washroom on the first level and then to ask directions before leaving to explore.
The Rusty Anchor was less than a half mile from the main docks, and Rigo set off with a happy stride in that direction. Halfway there he passed through a small marketplace already bustling with activity as residents completed their daily shopping. He purchased a fresh apple from one of the vendors and ate as he continued toward the docks.
The docks were encompassed by a number of large warehouses that had huge doors, now flung open as myriad dockhands scurried in and out leading wagonloads of goods toward the waiting ships for loading while others brought similarly laden wagons of other items that had been offloaded. He walked along the wooden walkway toward the ships themselves, bypassing the busy workers. Finally he stood opposite one of the vessels and marveled that something so large could exist. The ropes twanged softly as they were stretched tight, then allowed to go slack as the water moved the ship back and forth. Huge cylindrical bumpers hung from the side of the ships to protect the hull from abuse by the dock as the water moved it up against the heavy timbers. Rigo watched as the heavy bumpers were mashed and deformed by the mass of the huge vessels.
He lingered for a while as heavy loads were extracted from the interior of the ship and swung over the side and lowered to the dock by skillful workmen. Finally he moved on, and watched the scene being repeated at a number of other vessels. In some cases the flow was the opposite direction, but in every case the actions were smooth and seemingly effortless. Only one ship was quiet with no activity.
Rigo decided that the ships that were being loaded was where he needed to inquire about possible passage. He was uncertain how to proceed as everyone appeared so busy and he didn’t want to start off by getting underfoot.
“Ya looking for something, mate?” a ragged voice asked. The accent was thick, but Rigo was able to drag the question out of the burr.
“I wanted to speak with someone about possible passage,” he said to the burly man with a missing ear.
“This would not be the time to be disturbing the captain,” he was told. “Tonight, he and the other captains will gather at the tavern. That’s when they consider passengers.”
“The tavern?” Rigo asked.
“Aye. The Drowned Rat. It’s off the wharf a couple of blocks up Main Street. Anyone can direct you. The sailor told him the name of the ship as well as the captain.”
Rigo nodded his thanks. He had time to explore and expected he could locate the bar without too much difficulty. Already he was getting his bearings.
After another hour watching the bustle of activity, Rigo found he was losing interest. He elected to go in search of the tavern, then explore a bit of the town. He was becoming uncertain what he expected to accomplish now that he was actually here. The ships were im
pressive, and while he wished to see where they might take him, he knew he would be unable to fund such a voyage. He also wondered if it was the wrong choice. He obviously knew little of this land. It was starting to seem premature to sail off to one completely foreign.
The bar and several others were easily located as the sailor had suggested. They were open, but a quick check inside showed only a few patrons were present. All seemed engaged in drinking and gaming. Rigo purchased a mug of the local bir and while he drank it watched a table of four sailors playing some kind of card game. The men had some of their cards showing on the table while they held others in their hands. They were betting on the card to be drawn as each player took his turn. The three standard suits of fifteen cards, shovels, blades, and gems, were in use, with gems the dominant suit as usual. Other than that, Rigo couldn’t make sense of the game at all. What he did discover was his ability to know what card was about to be drawn. He had to concentrate, but found he was always right.
The game of dice was more readily understood. The rules appeared to be simple and straightforward. Curious what he could do, he was intrigued to discover that while he couldn’t predict the specific outcome of the toss, he could tell when it was wise to make a wager and when not to do so. A number of possible results could be advantageous to the bettors. He also could sense that one of the men was cheating. Rigo didn’t understand the nuances of the game enough to understand how, but he was certain that was the case. It wasn’t his problem, and when he finished his brew, he left to continue his exploration.
He located several more markets scattered around the docks. Some of the items for sale were totally unfamiliar to him. Many of the fruits were varieties he had never encountered, which once again underscored to him how little he really knew of the world.
In the village square he came across a magic show and was immediately interested. This was the first time he’d ever heard anyone publicly admit to magic and wondered if part of his quest might have ended so quickly. Perhaps it was only in the provinces where people didn’t know of magic. If he could show someone here what he could do, maybe they would accept him into their ranks and teach him more of what he knew had to be possible.
His excitement was short-lived, however. It was readily apparent to his keen eye augmented by his unique senses that what he was seeing wasn’t magic but some kind of slight of hand.
“Aren’t they marvelous,” a young woman remarked to him. She and her consort were watching the show next to him.
“They use trickery,” Rigo complained. “What you appear to see is not what is happening.”
“Of course not,” the woman replied. “The fun is in trying to figure out how they do it. You didn’t think it was really magic did you?” She had taken in his country clothes and realized he wasn’t local.
“No, I guess not,” he said and turned away.
After the evening meal, Rigo grabbed his staff and headed out into the dusk with the intent to return to the Drowned Rat. He knew the direction he needed to go, and with a full moon he had no trouble finding his way. In some of the busier areas, torches had been lit along the street to help light the path. The crowds grew thicker as he approached the areas where the sailors spent their liberty time. The Drowned Rat, like the other taverns were crowded and loud this evening.
He pushed his way inside, jostled by the sailors making their way as they moved in the opposite direction. Rigo went straight to the bar and ordered another bir. He wanted to observe before he took any action.
He was certain that he knew where the ship captains had set up. There were several men at the same table who were dressed better than the others in the room. They were allowed to converse in peace, while at most of the tables, rowdy sailors would frequently stop and exchange loud greetings and curses with those gaming. Rigo could see that drinks were being served by mostly younger women dressed in scandalous outfits designed to reveal their charms. They allowed familiarity and caresses from the patrons that would have gotten men arrested back home. Other women waited on the balcony overlooking the main room, and periodically one or more of the sailors would make their way up the stairs to the whoops and jeers of their comrades. Rigo didn’t have to guess what that was about. He was mostly but not entirely inexperienced with the fairer sex, and he knew what those girls were here for.
“I’m looking for Captain Narthum,” Rigo finally asked the bartender.
The man pointed across the room to a small table behind the one Rigo had been looking at earlier. A lone man sat there watching the merriment taking place. Rigo suspected he was watching his own sailors. He was scheduled to depart the following day, and would want to make sure his crew would be able.
Rigo expressed his thanks, set down his empty mug and headed across the room. The dark bearded face of Captain Narthum looked up at him when he stopped next to his table.
“Aye,” the man asked.
“Captain Narthum?” Rigo asked just to be certain.
“That I am. Why do you care?”
“I am curious about booking passage on a ship. I am told you will be heading to Kal’Ran.”
“You have been informed correctly. Kal’Ran will be the first port of call on this voyage. Why would you want to go there? It is not a common destination.”
“My mother was from there,” Rigo replied.
Captain Narthum shook his head. “Not so. There is none of the Kal’Ran blood in your veins. It shows true overwhelming other strains.”
“She was my adopted mother. I thought I would like to see where she came from.”
Captain Narthum peered at him for some time. “Perhaps so. It is a long voyage. Almost two months. Have you experience with sea travel? Two months can be very long if one suffers from motion sickness. It will also be costly. Conveying passengers and providing their food is not my primary interest. Perhaps you would be willing to eat what the crew does and not be expecting a higher standard of provisions.”
“That would be acceptable,” Rigo agreed, not knowing for sure what he was agreeing to. “What would such a voyage cost?”
Captain Narthum examined Rigo once again. Finally he quoted a sum. Rigo was shocked at the amount. He didn’t know what to say.
“You weren’t expecting that, were you? There are others who might be cheaper. They are not here at the moment, but should reach port here within a month. You might want to speak with them.” He gave Rigo the names.
“That is indeed more than I expected,” Rigo admitted. He had known that he couldn’t afford the voyage, but hadn’t realized how far off he’d been on his estimate of what it might cost. The captain had also given him something to think about. He didn’t know anything about this seasickness. It would be wise to understand that before venturing on an extended voyage. Perhaps there was a way to make a short trip to see how he took to it.
“I’m sorry,” Rigo finally managed to say. “I shouldn’t have bothered you, but I needed to know. I am unable to fund such a trip at the moment.”
The Captain smiled. “That was obvious before you sat down. Go home. This is not the place for someone as young and naive as yourself. There are those who would take advantage of you. I know of several Captains that would offer you passage for a modest sum, then once you were at sea and away from port, you would find yourself impressed and part of the crew. You don’t know what you are involved with here. Be careful.”
Rigo stood. Surprisingly the Captain extended his hand as he did so. Clearly, this was an honorable and considerate man. They shook, and then Rigo turned and walked back across the room and then out the double doors onto the street. He had learned a great deal, but he wasn’t sure what it meant to him and what he should do next. As he headed down the darkened street toward the Rusty Anchor, he failed to notice the three men who had stepped away from the shadows along side the tavern and began to follow him down the quiet street. Rigo was headed away from the direction where most of the night traffic tended to flow.
“Are you sure of this
one?” asked one of the men softly of the ringleader. “He doesn’t look to be having much coin.”
“You saw the warm greeting the Captain gave him. They had business. He was clearly seeking out the Captain to book passage somewhere. That is never cheap. Loest alerted me to him earlier. He is seldom wrong.” Loest was the bartender at the Drowned Rat and frequently alerted the man to potential targets for a cut of the takings. “He’s a dumb one at that. He’s headed out onto the pier at this hour.”
Quietly the three men followed the youth as he walked past the closed warehouses and out onto the pier. This one was deserted, with no ships at anchor. It allowed for a good view of the bay, with the full moon overhead, but was not the kind of place a man should wander alone at this hour.
“There’s no way he can slip past us,” the leader said. “We’ll do this the usual way.”
The usual way meant the other two would come up from behind while the leader held the attention of the victim. It also meant there was usually a body floating in on the morning tide.
“Are you lost?” asked a gruff voice causing Rigo to break off his thinking. He’d been lost in thought since leaving the tavern and had come out here where it was quiet to think. Now he suddenly realized what a bad mistake that might have been. He turned toward the voice and what he saw did nothing to alter his misgivings. The man was tall and powerful, with a short sword held loosely by his side. His hair was long and scraggly, and he wore several days of stubble on his chin as opposed to a proper beard.
Before Rigo could respond the man said, “I’ll be having a look at your purse.”
There it was. Right out in the open. It was what he should have been alert to and could have probably avoided had he gone straight back to the inn. Well, Sall had tried to warn him. But he was still used to Daro where one could wander freely at night without fear of being accosted. If he survived this encounter he would need to adjust his actions in the future.
