Unsuspecting Mage

by Brian S. Pratt

  “That will be fine.” Turning toward Elren, he gives the lad a nod.

  Elren returns James’ nod with a slight one of his own and then precedes him out the front door.

  As James turns to follow, Jillian says, “When your horse is settled in nicely, come back inside and I’ll have someone show you to your room.”

  Nodding his understanding, James follows Elren outside where he unties his horse and follows the lad around back through a gate, into an enclosed rear courtyard. “We lock the gate at night to prevent thieves from making off with the horses,” he explains. “I sleep in the rear of the stable for added security.”

  “Thieving a problem in Bearn?” asks James.

  “No, not really,” replies the lad. “But why take chances.”

  The stables are just as nice and well kept as was the inn. The lad leads James to the stall for his horse and assists him with removing the saddle and tack. The lad then produces a pail of grain for the horse and starts to brush out his coat. Seeing that his horse will be in good hands, James returns to the inn to find Jillian who gives him a key on a chain with the number ten engraved in a small, iron disc attached to it.

  Waving over a small boy, Jillian has him show James to his room.

  “Follow me sir,” the boy says as he takes James’ bags. The boy walks over to the stairs and leads him to the second floor. The first door on the right off the stairs is number ten. The boy opens it and precedes James into the room then stops and holds the door open for him as he enters.

  Once James is in the room, the boy sits the bags on the floor and turns toward James, waiting expectantly.

  Realizing a tip is expected, he digs out a copper and gives it to the boy saying, “Thank you.”

  “Will there be anything else I can help you with?” the boy asks as he pockets the coin.

  “What time is dinner?” he inquires.

  “There is always something available,” the boy explains. “The full menu is available an hour before sunset until late.”

  “Thank you,” says James.

  The boy nods and walks out of the room, closing the door as he leaves.

  The room is much nicer than the one in which he spent the night before. He’s pleased to note there are two windows, one in the wall opposite the door and another in the wall to the right which overlooks the river. The bed is larger than the one from last night and when he sits on it, finds it softer as well.

  There’s a table with two chairs, a nightstand and a picture of a swan in flight on the wall. There is also an upright closet with two doors along the left wall. James opens the doors and finds a rod with several hangers available. He puts his bags in the closet then lies down on the bed. Tired from his journey, his eyes quickly close and he nods off for a little nap before dinner.

  Music coming from downstairs draws him from a particularly nostalgic dream of home. The sun’s gone down already and the room is dark, with some light coming in through the windows from the moon above and lamps along the street. He feels very relaxed but the grumbling of his stomach will not be denied. With the music coming through the floorboards, he gets up and makes his way carefully through the darkened room to the door.

  Out in the hallway there is but a single candle positioned in the middle of the hallway to ward off the dark, its light barely reaching the door to James’ room. Removing the key from his pocket, he closes the door and locks it. He then puts the key in an inner pocket before going down the stairs to the well lit, crowded dinning area.

  A small stage is set along one wall and a man is there playing what looks to be something similar to a guitar, entertaining the inn’s patrons with a song. Finding an empty table along one wall, he sits with his back to the wall so he can watch the bard. The song reminds him of folk music, something from one of the old Errol Flynn movies he and his grandfather used to watch together.

  He listens to the music and gets a touch of homesickness. Before the song comes to its end, a server approaches his table and asks, “Good evening sir,” a young woman greets him. “What can I get for you this evening?”

  “I’ll take the house special and some ale,” he replies.

  “We do have some good mulberry wine if you would care to try that instead?” she suggests.

  “Ok, I’ll try that,” he agrees, feeling adventurous.

  “I’ll have the wine over in a second, but the special will require several more minutes,” she explains.

  “That’s okay, I’m not in any hurry.” James sits back as she leaves his table and continues to enjoy the music the bard is playing. The song is a happy one with a good beat and a catchy chorus. He catches himself tapping his finger to the rhythm of the music.

  His server brings over a glass and a bottle. She opens the bottle and fills his glass with the dark red liquid. Setting the bottle on the table, she smiles at him and then moves to another table and waits on another person.

  Holding the glass for a moment, he lifts it to his nose and enjoys the aroma of the wine, it has a strong berry scent. Lifting it to his lips, he takes a small sip and berry flavor bursts in his mouth, sweet and mellow. Man that’s good! Downing the rest of the glass, he pours himself another, this time intending to take his time in drinking it.

  The bard finishes the song to a rousing applause by the audience. Bowing to their admiration, he starts into another one, this time a ballad of love, soft and slow. About this time his server brings over a large platter with a whole stuffed goose. The goose has been roasted to a golden brown and the stuffing within steams, emitting an aroma of nuts and honey. Encircling the goose is an assortment of varying vegetables, all well cooked and soft to the touch. She also sets a basket with several rolls down next to the platter with the goose along with a bowl of gravy.

  “Here you go sir. Do you require anything else?” she asks.

  Taking out his knife, he says, “No thanks, I think I’ll be fine for a while.” Looking around, he notices that people are using their hands, spoons and knives to eat. Apparently forks are not the custom.

  “If you need anything, just catch my eye and I’ll be over,” she says before returning to the kitchen.

  James sets to with a hearty appetite. The goose is fantastic, the skin crisp and the flesh juicy with not a trace of pink. The rolls have a mouth watering aroma, he takes one and dips it in the gravy. Biting into it, he finds that it’s soft and fluffy. This is perhaps the best meal he’s had since coming to this world.

  During the course of the meal, the bard plays several more songs before taking a break. James spies a bowl sitting at the edge of the stage. From the glint of metal within, he realizes that it contains several coins. During the break he notices how several of the patrons walk over and drop coins in. Must be tipping the bard, he reasons. Digging into his pouch he comes out with a gold and walks over, dropping it into the bowl. His is the only gold among the coppers and a couple silvers. He returns to his table and resumes his meal.

  Soon the bard again takes the stage and starts with another fast paced song. He has the crowd singing along with him after a short time, everyone is having a marvelous time. Upon finishing that song, someone shouts out, “Do the Story of Deagan.” Others shout in agreement and the bard starts on a serious ballad about a man on a quest, who slays the bad guy, rescues the damsel and finally dies in the end. Thunderous applause erupts at the end of the song and shouts for other favorites bombard the bard until he begins yet another. He continues singing requests throughout the night, with only an occasional break for him to get a drink and rest his voice.

  Having finished his meal, James leans back in his chair and listens to the bard sing the songs. The waitress comes over and clears off the dirty plates, leaving him with just his bottle of mulberry wine and the glass. The music is good and listening to it gives him more of an understanding about the people of this world. Without even realizing it, he finishes the bottle so he signals his server for another. She brings it over and he tips her a copper. Pouring himself a
glassful he sits back and enjoys more of the music.

  Knock! Knock!

  Coming awake, James starts to get up out of bed when a pain that’s likely to crack his skull open erupts from behind his forehead. Collapsing back onto the bed with a groan, he grabs the pillow and places it over his face to block out the blinding sun coming in through the windows.

  Oh my God! I’m going to die.

  Knock! Knock!

  “Sir,” a voice from outside the door says. “Are you in there?”

  James croaks out, “Go away and let me die in peace.”

  “Sir, there is a boy here who claims you told him to meet you here this morning.” The voice won’t go away. “He says his name is Miko.”

  So this is what a hangover feels like? Upset stomach, headache that won’t quit. Why do people ever drink?

  How did I get here, he wonders. The last thing he remembers is getting the second bottle of wine and listening to more of the bard. Carefully removing the pillow from in front of his face, he squints through eyes that will barely open and he looks down at himself. He’s still fully clothed in garments that are a bit wrinkled and smell the worse for wear.

  “Sir, what should I tell the boy?” intrudes the painful voice.

  “Have him come on in,” replies James. “And if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could you send up something to eat and drink for the both of us?”

  “Very well sir,” replies the voice. “I’ll send the boy up with your food.” James hears footsteps going down the stairs as the owner of the voice leaves.

  Sitting up slowly, James looks over at the table and discovers a bowl of water along with a towel resting on the table beside it. They must have known I’d need to clean up a little, he reasons. Taking it slowly, he makes it to the table and plops down in one of the chairs and begins to use the water to wash his face and neck. Once cleaned up a bit, he starts feeling better. His headache continues to throb, but it’s beginning to recede a little. He checks and with relief finds the medallion still hanging around his neck beneath his shirt.

  Knock! Knock!

  “Sir, I brought your food and the boy,” a voice says.

  Rising unsteadily from the chair, he uses every bit of furniture between the table and the door for support as he crosses the room. Opening the door, he squints with eyes barely opened and finds one of the waiters from last night carrying a plate of food and the boy Miko standing next to him. “Come on in,” he croaks in a voice barely above a whisper, “just put it on the table.” He reaches into his pocket and hands a copper to the waiter.

  “Thank you sir,” the waiter says. “Will you need anything else?”

  “Not right now, thank you,” he replies.

  The waiter bows slightly then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

  James gestures to a chair at the table and says to Miko, “Go ahead and have a seat. You can help yourself to the food, there should be enough for both of us.”

  With little hesitation, Miko takes a seat and grabs one of the plates off the tray. Then after shoving an entire biscuit into his mouth, spoons a mound of eggs on his plate. He then sets to with great enthusiasm.

  James takes his seat at the table and joins Miko in helping himself to the breakfast. He has barely taken his second bite before Miko finishes his portion and is looking longingly at him for more. “Go ahead, take as much as you want,” James tells him. “Did your parents even feed you this morning?”

  “Ain’t got any,” answers Miko.

  “You don’t have any family at all?” he asks.

  Between mouthfuls of food, Miko explains, “Got an aunt somewhere up north, but she don’t care nothing about me.”

  “That’s too bad,” James says.

  “I can take care of myself,” Miko boasts. “Don’t be needing nothing from nobody,”

  “After we eat, we’ll get started on those errands of mine,” he explains.

  Talking through a mouthful of eggs, Miko asks, “Like what?”

  “I need to buy some things, like parchment, ink and something to carry it all in so it won’t get messed up,” he explains.

  “Know a place across the river on the south side. It’s over in the Temple District. Brockman’s, it sells stuff like that to the temples and scribes.” Looking at James, Miko asks, “How much you gonna pay me to show you?”

  Smiling, James replies, “I’ll feed you while you’re with me and a silver a day.” Seeing the boy’s eyes open wide, he asks “If you think that will be okay?”

  Nodding vigorously, Miko says “No one’s ever given me that much before. Thanks!”

  “No problem, just don’t do me wrong,” he cautions the lad.

  “Oh, no sir, I won’t,” Miko says earnestly. He snatches the last of the biscuits and tries to slather more jelly on it than the biscuit will hold. With jelly dripping off most of the sides he stuffs it into his mouth. Seeing that James is also finishing the last traces of eggs left on his plate, Miko wipes the excess jelly off of his face with his arm then gets to his feet and waits.

  “I was wondering if there was a place that cleans clothes. Maybe even a bathhouse nearby?” asks James.

  Thinking a bit, Miko says “The people here at the inn would probably get it done for you. They might even supply a bath here in your room. Some of the better inns do that.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” James exclaims. “Thanks, you’re already coming in handy.”

  Miko beams at the praise.

  Knock! Knock!

  Miko immediately crosses to the door and opens it for James. The waiter who brought the food walks into the room. “If you are done, sir, I can take them back to the kitchen,” he says, indicating the dirty plates.

  “Go ahead, I think we’re done,” James says. “Oh, and could I get some of my clothes cleaned while I am out today?”

  “We can take care of that for you, sir,” agrees the man. “Just leave what you wish cleaned on the table. Then on your way out let one of us know and we will come and collect them. You should have them back by this evening.”

  “Excellent, thank you,” says James. “Also, is it possible to have a bath here in the room?”

  “Yes, we do have tubs that we can bring in for the guests,” explains the man. “Would you like one now, sir?”

  “No, I can wait till tonight. How much notice do you need to get it ready?” he asks.

  “Very little, just let us know,” replies the man. Gathering up the last of the dishes, he walks over to the door and leaves. Miko closes the door behind him.

  “What do you want a bath for anyway?” asks Miko.

  “Feels good, you don’t stink and you stay healthier,” replies James. “Haven’t you ever taken a bath before?”

  “Naw, don’t like ‘em,” says Miko emphatically. “Fell in the river once, though.”

  Miko waits patiently while James changes out of his dirty clothes and puts on a clean set he purchased back in Trendle. Once he has them on, he looks at himself in the ‘native attire’. Admiring himself, he thinks, Not bad. He folds and places his dirty clothes on the table then grabs his backpack. Indicating for Miko that it’s time to go, he follows the boy out the door and locks it with his key.

  Downstairs, he informs a member of the staff about his dirty clothes and arranges for their cleaning. Turning to Miko he says, “Let’s go.” Following the boy, James heads out the door and enters a street filled with people going about their business.

  Miko leads him through the throng and after a short distance, come to the bridge they crossed the day before on the way to the inn. He crosses the bridge and soon arrives at what James assumes is the temple district. Several large buildings that have the look of temples line the street on both sides. Some are made of simple stone and wood while others are quite impressive with ornamentation and delicate architecture.

  Passing the temples, Miko stops in front of a modest shop with a single door and window. He opens the door and goes inside.

 
; James can see that this must be Brockman’s, the place Miko had told him about. Many shelves line the walls and are stacked with reams of paper, quills, and ink bottles. Ten tables are spaced about the shop, several having men busily copying manuscripts. He peers over the shoulder of the nearest and can tell that this scribe has a good, artistic talent. The page is beautiful with multiple colors and flourishes highlighting the script.

  “Welcome good sir to Brockman’s Manuscripts.” James turns to find a man who’s smiling at him warmly. “I am Brockman,” he says as he extends a hand in greeting. James shakes his hand and asks “You copy manuscripts here?”

  “Many nobles pay for copies of important works so they may have them in their own personal library.” Motioning to the man whose handiwork James had been admiring, he says, “For instance, Lord Beleron has contracted with us for a copy of the Story of Beltine for his daughter. It’s a favorite storybook among the nobles these days.”

  “That is very good work,” praises James.

  “Nothing but the best from Brockman’s Manuscripts. What can I help you with today?” Standing patiently, Brockman looks at James expectantly.

  “I need a kit containing paper, ink and quills that I may take on my travels,” he explains. “What would you suggest?”

  “I may have what you need,” Brockman says, “follow me.” He leads James around the room to one of the shelves and pulls down a wooden box.

  Brockman opens the box and James can see it’s what he wanted. It has holders for inkwells and even an enclosed compartment for quills. There is also an open area where unused sheets of paper are stored. It reminds him of a briefcase, only bulkier.