by AC Cobble
Ben noticed a complicated system of pipes and valves leading from the tubs to a tank and stove in the corner then back into the wall. He’d never heard of anything like this but decided they must somehow heat the water with the stove and pump it into the baths. He was walking over to investigate and considering the possibilities to adapting this system to brew beer when Saala splashed and sent a sheet of water his direction. “Rhys is right, get in.”
Rhys quickly called for chilled wine and the men emptied a pitcher before they finished bathing. Over the billowing steam from the baths, they discussed the next stages of the journey. From Fabrizo, they would book passage on a ship to travel across the Blood Bay to the city of Whitehall. Saala thought it may take a few days to find passage as tensions were rising between the two cities.
King Argren of Whitehall was raising pressure on the leaders of Fabrizo to join his Alliance of Nations. Publicly, King Argren said it was to counterbalance the power of The Coalition that had formed in the east. But Saala explained rumors were flying that it was merely a naked power grab by the King. Fabrizo, unlike the other powerful cities along the Blood Bay, was ruled by the Merchant’s Guild and because their power base was commercial instead of political, they saw no reason to join The Alliance.
“And why would they bow to Argren? He’s got the armies but they’ve got the money,” snorted Rhys. “They’d be fools to join him.”
Saala gave Rhys a meaningful look, “some of our party may not feel that way.”
“Oh, I know what she’s about. There’s a reason they sent Towaal all the way out to get her. It’s a dangerous game her father’s playing.”
“I don’t think her father’s the only one playing games.”
Rhys chuckled and sunk lower into his bath. “You may be right there. I say we leave them to their games. I’m for gold, girls and grog.” He sloshed his wine mug up in a mock toast, “here’s to doing our jobs and keeping it simple.”
Saala raised his mug in response and replied, “if you say so.”
Ben remained silent throughout the exchange, hoping they’d continue to ignore him and say more. He was realizing that there was more to this trip than simply travelling to The City. He’d wondered why Amelie wasn’t travelling with a large entourage or acknowledging Meredith as her handmaiden. If she was on some sort of mission on behalf of her father, then maybe secrecy was paramount.
Before dinner, Ben pulled Meghan aside and told her what he’d heard. She had similar suspicions but neither of them had much real information.
“Let’s keep it between us,” he said. “I like all of them, but we don’t know them, and we don’t know if we can trust them.”
Meghan nodded in agreement, “we’re part of this group now whether we like it or not, but no reason we can’t look out for ourselves.”
Despite the serious thoughts and concerns, Ben couldn’t help but enjoy dinner. It was an experience unlike any he’d had before. His first shock when they sat down in the common room was the silverware laid out on the table. He picked up a heavy fork and with a start saw it was made of actual silver. The idea that someone would make something so utilitarian as a fork out of money was crazy. It was an over the top display of wealth that was beyond even the Pinewoods in Farview.
The rest of the meal was just as bizarre. It was a series of small plates that just kept coming. The first dish was a simple pasta and tomato sauce, but that was the last thing Ben recognized. There were vegetables floating in alternating sweet and spicy sauces, tiny meat pies, steamed beans that curled strangely when poured out of a heated pot, thin wafers he thought might be bread that seemed to melt on his tongue, baked fish, grilled fish, lightly fried fish and even pieces of raw fish wrapped around rice balls at one point.
The whirlwind of staff floating in and out to collect and disperse new dishes was like a coordinated dance. The thread of conversation from earlier in the day had completely fallen off and everyone focused on the meal. The vast array of dishes, flavors and textures meant there was little room for anything else.
Ben was seated next to Amelie who did her best to show him the proper way to eat each dish and explain where it was from. The fashion in Fabrizo was to bring in foods from a variety of cultures and the art was in creating complementary pairings and menus. As the meal went on, Ben started to notice not just how the flavors interacted with each other but how the texture and color of each dish was a play on the previous one.
By the time it was over, several bells after it started, it was late evening and Ben felt like he was stuffed to the point of exploding. The entire group was worn out from the trip. Coupled with being clean for the first time in two weeks and the rich meal, it was an early night for all of them.
The next morning, Ben slept in and woke to find Saala and Rhys already out of the room. He headed down to the common area and found Lady Towaal and the girls sitting over a light breakfast.
In her usual brusque tone Towaal said, “the men left to find a ship and arrange passage. The girls and I will take advantage of the day off and begin talking about their studies in earnest. You are on your own for the day but return here by nightfall and be ready to depart at a moment’s notice.”
Amelie chimed in, “you should check out the Fish and Stranger’s Markets. Also, we need some ribbon for our hair. I’ll want to tie it up on the ship. If you see something could you pick it up for me?” She slid a few coins across the table, “use it for the ribbon and you can spend the rest on something you need.”
Ben scooped up the coins and was surprised to see they were three thick silver marks, and unless the price of ribbon was very different in Fabrizo, far more than he would need. From Amelie’s grin, he realized she knew that as well and probably knew he had very little of his own coin to spend. He bowed his thanks and caught Meghan’s eye. She looked more than a little jealous.
He winked at her and exclaimed, “enjoy your studies girls!”
The prospect of spending the entire day exploring a city like Fabrizo couldn’t wait, so he dashed up to his room to gather his money pouch and sword then swept out of the inn without stopping for breakfast.
He was overwhelmed with everything he saw and had barely registered the street outside of the inn the night before. He found in the early morning sunlight that it was filled with wall to wall buildings painted in a rainbow of different pastels. Many of the buildings were accented with extensive, bright tile work. They were all about three or four stories and the first levels were packed with a wide variety of shops. There were narrow staircases in between many of the shops and he surmised they must lead to the upper levels where people lived.
The streets were teeming with early morning traffic and he saw people running the same types of errands they would do in Farview this time of day. There were women carrying wicker baskets filled with produce, workmen pushing wheeled carts and proprietors outside the shops calling out their wares. Most of them were dressed in the style of Fabrizo, loose trousers and billowing shirts which must have been more comfortable in the heat and humidity. There were a few people on the street who were foreigners like him, but none seemed too out of place.
He was tempted to stop in some of the more interesting looking shops along the street but he was more excited to explore the city itself. He picked a direction he thought was the opposite of how they came in and started off.
At the end of the street he found a stone bridge spanning a broad canal. He paused at the top of the bridge and saw that the waterways were just as busy as the streets. There were several small boats darting about and a few barges. All of the buildings had pilings or docks on the water where the boats could tie up. Right by the bridge there was a trio of workmen unloading heavy looking sacks from one of the barges into a shop that must have been a bakery judging by the delicious smell. Though it was almost overpowered from the scent of saltwater, fish and refuse.
Seabirds flew overhead, their calls competing with the shouts from the workmen and underlying it all wa
s the constant lap of water as waves splashed against the buildings. Ben was intoxicated by the mix of sights, sounds and scents that washed over him.
He spent several long minutes paused on the bridge overlooking the water then kept on deeper into the city. The place was a confusing maze of canals, bridges and streets. Some were broad enough for three or four wagons to pass abreast and some were so narrow he had to turn sideways to pass through. He was lost within minutes but he thought he remembered the way to the inn from the large palace the night before, so he wasn’t worried.
He found there was some sense of organization in that several of the streets seemed to have their own specialties. There was one street filled with gem cutters, several with different types of blown glass, and other streets for tailors, herbalists, cobblers, furniture makers and so on. One street that made him pause was the armorers.
Suits of chain mail, scale mail, helmets, greaves, maces, axes, spears, knives and more types of swords than he ever imagined were displayed all along the street. Each shop opened up with more goods inside. Ben slowed his walk and his eyes greedily lingered over some of the finer looking weaponry, but he knew there was nothing along here he’d be able to afford.
In his dreams he often imagined himself heavily armed and armored, confronting a demon or some mythical beast, but the stunning array of equipment went beyond his imagination. The variety of swords alone was beyond counting and there were other edged weapons he couldn’t figure how one would even use.
He eventually moved on after receiving some pointed stares from the shopkeepers. He wasn’t familiar with the customs in this place and didn’t want to cause trouble. Though theft couldn’t have been common – at least not on that street.
The smell was the first thing that let him know he was near the Fish Market. The entire city had a distinct scent of salt and fish, but the odor became much more powerful near the market. He noticed that the buildings were a little rougher which made sense because who could stand to live near that. The paint was peeling or chipping on many storefronts and the cobble stones weren’t as even as he’d seen in more prosperous areas.
On the outskirts of the market, there were several shirtless, intimidating looking men who at first he took to be thugs. They were lounging around in small groups paying little attention to passersby but he caught a few of them eyeing him as he walked. He adjusted his belt and felt the reassuring weight of his sword on one hip and his hunting knife on the other.
It wasn’t until he saw a pair of them hurrying by with a wheel barrow filled with fish that he realized they must all be porters for the shopkeepers and fish buyers. The fish wouldn’t last long in the heat of the day and it made sense it had to be moved quickly. Once he caught on he saw there was a steady stream of barrows being pushed in from the docks and an equal stream leaving the market.
The market itself was bewildering. He expected to see a variety of fish that were new to him but there were creatures here he couldn’t even describe. He stopped to stare at one stall filled with cases of wiggling masses and heard the keeper bellow, “urchins, live urchins! Get em while their fresh. Just caught this morning off the Horn. Live urchins! Come on lad, you buying or what? You keep blocking the traffic and you better be buying. Fresh live urchins!”
Ben hurried on. He wasn’t sure what an urchin was but it certainly didn’t look like something he wanted to eat.
He’d been exploring the market about half a bell when he heard a familiar voice and turned to see Master Cranston haggling with a shopkeeper over a pile of long, shiny scaled fish. Cranston’s helper Zin was in tow carting a wheel barrow half filled with sea creatures. Ben spent a few heartbeats trying to guess which ones he’d eaten last night but most of what was in the barrow didn’t resemble anything he remembered eating – or would want to eat again.
He shouted out, “Master Cranston!” and the innkeeper turned with a scowl on his face before he recognized Ben then instantly adopted a beaming smile.
“Yes, yes, you’re the boy who came with Lady Towaal right? How are you enjoying our city? First time is it?” He barreled on before Ben could think of a reply, “the Lady Towaal, did she send you out for something? Anything I can be of service with?”
“Uh, no sir, just out seeing the city.”
“Excellent, you’ve come to the right place. Fabrizo has the best Fish Market anywhere on the Blood Bay. Best anywhere in the world some say and I don’t know enough to disagree with them. Come along with me.”
Cranston bounced around the Market like he owned the place, Ben and the overworked Zin pulled along in his wake. And from the reactions of the shopkeepers, Ben saw Cranston was one of their best customers. He seemed most interested in odd choices, he kept repeating rare, and was obsessed with freshness. His thoroughness was assuring to Ben, who figured he’d be dining on many of these selections later that evening.
The innkeeper maintained a constant stream of questions and comments, only pausing to closely inspect a particular fish or quickly turn and do a count of what he’d already purchased. He questioned Ben closely on Lady Towaal’s needs, which Ben wasn’t sure he was qualified to answer, but from the questioning he realized Towaal must be something of a regular and occasionally passed through with small groups of young people. He decided her job with the Sanctuary was some type of recruiter for new Initiates.
Cranston also paused at several stalls and picked out samples for Ben to try. It wasn’t until then that he remembered he’d skipped breakfast that morning so he hungrily snapped up what was offered. Cranston himself frequently spit out the samples, “these damn fish mongers don’t even know how to cook their own goods. Phef!” He glared at one poor shopkeeper, “this should be a tempura fry, what is this, beer batter?!”
Ben thought the samples were pretty good – straightforward and simple, but a gourmand like Cranston must be used to classier fare.
Before long, Cranston was done in the market and said he was heading across town for other supplies. He sent Zin back to the inn with stern instructions on what to tell the cook.
“Master Cranston,” Ben asked, “which way is the Stranger’s Market?”
“Ah, yes, for a boy like you with a head full of adventure, that is the place to go. Watch your purse lad and watch out for the women. Wouldn’t do, Lady Towaal catching you talking to the wrong types.”
Cranston quickly spouted out directions that somehow made perfect sense. Three bridges, left at the little fountain in the plaza, down the spice sellers alley and over the yellow bridge. There were no street names in Fabrizo so simple directions worked best.
The Stranger’s Market was nothing like the rest of the city. It was situated on it’s own island and looked to be the largest one in the group. Unlike the other islands, this one had no permanent structures. Instead, it was packed from bridge to bridge with a confusing mix of temporary structures. There were narrow walkways weaving in between tightly packed canvass stalls, a hodge podge of tents grouped together in uneven clumps, open spaces covered in carpets and goods, massive tents nearly as large as the commons in Farview and shops set up in the backs of handcarts.
A wave of odd sounds washed up from the market. Strange music offset different accents and languages but it held the familiar cadence of sellers in the rest of Fabrizo. He thought he could hear the bleat of some type of exotic animals mixed in the din of commerce.
The goods for sale were just as disorganized and even more varied than the temporary structures. There were fabrics made of materials he had never seen before, oils and potions promising cures to any ailment, beads, glassware, jars stuffed full of exotic items that were frequently difficult to identify, strange fruits and other food items, clothing, spices, odd mechanical devices, boxes, bags, jewelry and he found he’d been correct, there were animals.
He stumbled across a tent stuffed full of wire cages with small furry creatures in them. He was staring, trying to identify what the creatures were when the one-eyed proprietor slid up next to him.
“Monkeys, you like? Do your bidding for you. You never have to work again. 5 silver for untrained, 2 gold for fully trained.”
“Uh, no thank you.”
Ben quickly moved on as the man shouted after him, “impress your friends, impress your lady. You have a lady, right?”
He was in such a hurry he stumbled into a table stacked with murky glass jars and nearly sent the entire stack crashing down but managed to get out a hand to steady them before they fell. He recoiled in horror though when he saw what appeared to be human eyes staring back at him from within the cloudy brown liquid. This merchant made no sales pitch, just stared at him from deep within his cowled, undyed robes. Ben prayed it was his imagination that the eyes followed him as he scampered deeper into the Market.
A small rack of wire and glass contraptions caught his eye and the plump colorfully clothed merchant beamed at him as he approached. The devices were a mirrored piece of glass intricately supported above a small metal box by a nest of thin wires. She eyed his sword and purred, “an adventurer yes? You have come to the right place. My farseeing devices are a must for any Hunter, sailor or soldier. Focus your will and you can see leagues in any direction.”
“Really?” asked Ben. He drew closer and leaned down to look into one of the mirrors.
“Now now,” the woman shooed him back, “I only allow testing by serious buyers. Are you serious?” she asked.
“I… It sounds interesting but I’m not sure I have the money for something like this. How does it work?”
“Focus and Will, how do you think it would work?” Her tone had quickly changed. “Move along now. I only have time for serious customers.”
Ben moved on and soon found himself in a relatively open space lined with stalls of food sellers and wine merchants. He paused to soak in the strange scents of the cooking food and made a slow circle. He wasn’t familiar with many of the items for sale but he at least understood food. He shuddered at the thought of the jars of eyes and decided to take a short break.
