by LeRoy Clary
“Our rooms are either private or four to a room. No exceptions.” The voice was neither friendly or cold, just impersonal.
“I meant to say that while there are three of us here, the fourth will join us later. Of course, I’ll pay for him now, and he can reimburse me.”
“Put your names on this register and pay me first. Three coppers for the room and food per day, as much as you can eat all day long or until we run out. You pay the girls for your drinks. No rough stuff or pinching the girl’s bottoms, or you’re out on the street.”
“I’ll pay for two nights, now. But I may need to stay longer and expect the room to be there for us if we need it.”
“Of course. The second room through this door and up the stairs.”
Tanner noticed Devlin trying to maintain the haughty expression, but he still looked like a scared kitten. When the clerk’s eyes flashed by him without pause, Devlin’s cheeks instantly turned pink. Once in the room, each claimed a bed by placing their belongings on it.
Tanner asked, “What now?”
“Without a coin in this town, we’d be treated as poorly as our friend, Devlin. I want each of you to sew one of the brass buttons on the inside of your pants, and I will too.”
“Why should I?” Devlin asked, not protesting, but not understanding the instructions.
“To carry your coin. A man with a purse and a few coins can go anywhere. You only have to draw out your purse and jangle it to gain respect. Such is the world we live in.” Carrion talked as he turned the waistband of his pants out and threaded the needle. He soon had one of the new coin purses inside his waist, buttoned at the top and the thongs tied through a hole. He practiced flipping it outside and drawing coins. He slipped it back inside and nodded, satisfied.
Tanner was next, and then Devlin. Carrion handed Devlin several coins, all copper, but enough to make a decent noise if he shook it. With his back turned to Devlin, he passed several coppers, silver, large and small, and two gold to Tanner. Tanner looked at him questioningly.
“In case, I am robbed. Never keep all your coin in one place.”
Tanner agreed. He placed the flat pouch inside his waistband after buttoning it, and the purse all but disappeared. He said, “Now what?”
Carrion said, “That meat pie filled me. Why don’t we go down to the docks? Look at boats. Maybe talk to a few people.”
“Then what?” Tanner asked.
“Dinner here. A late night of sipping ale and listening to loose talk. Never know what you might hear. Devlin, can you lead the way to the docks?”
“Which ones? Where the ships are, or the fishing boats?”
Carrion said, “Why not take us to both? I can use the walk. Besides, I’d like to see the city.”
They left the inn and strolled away from the central marketplace down to the waterfront. The inns nearer the waterfront were louder even during the day. Women often stood beside the doorways enticing sailors to come inside and enjoy themselves. Tanner thought more than one looked right at him when they made their pitches.
A fight with one stumbled into the street. Whistles blew, and constables arrested five sailors. The stores were shabby, the merchandise more so. Strong drink and the presence of pretty women seemed more important than quality dry goods, food, or hardware. Curved knives favored for slicing rope were for sale everywhere, as were waterproof cloaks and droopy hats to shed water.
But there were ships. At each stood an officer, usually at some sort of make-shift desk. He answered questions and quoted prices. Carrion did the talking. He asked general questions, but always managed to find out the ports of call. Only two of the six ever traveled to the Marlstone Islands, and one of them had recently dropped porting there for a city far down the coast named Rockwall, a dreary sounding place by all description.
Carrion asked why the ship no longer sailed to the Marlstones.
“People there are unfriendly. Like they don’t want our business. Twice we had crewmen disappear, one right after asking questions about the lands to the east. The locals became upset and threatened to beat one for discussing forbidden subjects. The Captain refused any of the crew to go ashore after that.”
“It sounds like a place for me to stay away from because I’m always curious and ask questions. Where else would you suggest a man go where he can discuss buying from one land and selling in another? For profit, of course.”
While he talked, Devlin and Tanner stood back, as if respectful of a wealthy master. While Devlin watched for pickpockets or thieves, Tanner watched for danger or odd reactions to Carrion’s questions that could present problems. He saw nothing to alarm him so far.
They were working as a team, Tanner realized. Devlin said little, but already his contribution was massive, if you considered what would have happened if he had not stopped the thief in the marketplace from stealing the entire purse Carrion wore. Now his natural instincts and life experiences were protecting them.
What are we going to do with him in the future? Tanner shrugged the thought away, not wanting to think of it, and not able to help himself. Their plan was to sail to the islands. Perhaps farther.
He stole a glance at Devlin and tried to see him as others did. With the shorter hair, and cleaner appearance, and his new clothing, the boy looked almost respectable. There was still more work needed for him to pass as middle class. He’d talk to Carrion about a real haircut, a trimming of the scraggly beard, and the dip in the river had only removed surface dirt. He needed soap, hot water, and time. Now that he thought of it, so did he.
Carrion had spoken to the officers of all five sailing ships. He pointed to the fishing fleet. “Let’s go down there.”
They walked along a narrow road, but even as they neared the boats, the boats looked no bigger. A ship is for crossing a sea. A boat is for a few days in calm weather and returning to port. Besides, as they walked nearer, the stink of dead fish increased. There were five piers, each with smaller docks jutting from them.
Most had boats tied up to them. There were people either unloading them or working on them. Lines needed replacement, nets repaired, scraping and painting. Everybody was busy. Carrion again took the lead. He spoke to several, asking general questions and hinting that they might be interested in passage to the Marlstone Islands.
“Nasty place,” One fisherman said, as he repaired a net hanging beside a boat. “But pretty.”
“It’s the people that are nasty?” Carrion asked.
“Yep. Didn’t always be that way. A while back, a man could have a good time in Marlstone City.”
“What happened?”
“New people started moving in. Took over the businesses and made sailors unwelcome. Wouldn’t let them eat in restaurants. Closed most of them, anyhow. Only one Inn over there now, and you don’t dare say anything in it because the serving women are spies. Least that’s what they say. I haven’t been there in a few years.”
“It takes one of those big ships to get there?”
“Nope. There’s good fishing east of the Marlstones. A lot of this fleet used to go there for the big hauls, especially in the spring.”
Tanner looked out over the fleet, inspecting the boats, and noticed Carrion was doing the same. But it was Devlin who spoke. “These little boats can go all that way?”
The fisherman chuckled, but his hands never slowed with his net repairs. “Some prefer to take these. Fewer restrictions. Better yet, are the little frigates you used to see carrying mail and light cargo up and down the coast. Used to be quite a few of them crisscrossing the Endless Sea. They’re slim and fast, but carry next to nothing in the way of cargo.”
Carrion asked, “Why would they name it the Endless Sea if there’s another side to it?”
“That’s because once you’re out there in the middle of it, no matter the size boat, it looks and feels endless until you see land.”
“If those frigates don’t cross the sea anymore, what do they do?”
“Most got beached years ago
when the need to carry a few people back and forth ended. Some still struggle to make ends meet, but the truth is they’re not much use for anything. Can’t carry enough fish or cargo to make it worthwhile. The only people who want them have a need to go fast. Smugglers and the like.”
“I see,” Carrion said. “I guess if nobody wants them, they beach the ships or sell them cheap. I’ve never seen ships like that.”
“If you look around here you’re in the wrong place. Up where the sailing ships dock, beyond them. Smaller docks there. Old ones almost falling down. You’ll see how worthless they are if you go up that way.”
A few more minutes of idle chat and Carrion motioned with a wink that it was time to go. They walked away from the fishing fleet and back to the cargo ships, and beyond. At the rickety piers were three smaller ships, narrow, and with masts looking too tall. An open deck covered most of the main deck, but a small door led to a deck below. Small round windows went from the bow to the stern, many of them open to the sea air.
Instead of approaching, Carrion steered the three of them close enough to read the names on the bows, but no closer. The Rose, the Edna, and the Far Seeker. He said the names out loud and looked at Tanner and Devlin. “This is what we’re going to do. None of us is going to show interest in any of those three ships, but I want to know everything about them. Especially the Far Seeker.”
Tanner raised an eyebrow.
“Look at her. Sails hardly patched, new paint on the hull, and the ropes on the rigging looks new. The other two are ready to be beached.”
He was right. Two of them looked unseaworthy, especially the Edna. But with gold one of the two might be refitted. The price of either of those ships was probably cut-rate. He tried to look beyond the obvious rot, worn equipment, and poor maintenance. He would not wish to sail on either.
Carrion said, “We’ll sit in the inn and listen to others talk. You and Devlin might stroll down by the pubs near those ships and listen, but never ask a question or show interest. We’ll spend a day or two and see what we come up with.”
Devlin said, “I know a few people. I can ask.”
“Which is like standing on a rooftop and shouting our business. No, we do it my way, but I appreciate your offer. If this doesn’t work out, we might try your friends.”
Tanner said, “Let me get this straight for Devlin and me so we understand your orders. You’re asking us to sit and appear to enjoy ourselves while serving wenches bring us food and ale?”
“Essentially. But that’s the gist.”
Looking at Devlin, Tanner said, “This is going to be hard for us.”
They were still laughing as they entered the dining room at the inn.
CHAPTER TEN
The three of them entered the inn and found a table. A young girl with a soft smile warm enough to melt butter asked what they wanted to drink. Carrion said, “Your best ale for me and two watered wines for my young friends.”
Tanner scowled, but remained quiet lest others hear him. But they’d discuss it later. He was in charge of the expedition and Carrion needed to be reminded of it. He fumed, then realized why the family council had put the two together. It was true that Carrion had been often absent, but there was no reflection on how serious he took his job.
The question became, why had they appointed Tanner in charge. The answer drew his attention as he figured it out. The appointment made him feel superior and in charge of an important mission. Carrion didn’t need that sort of coddling. Yet they made mutual decisions more often than not.
Would he ever have the wisdom they did? He doubted it. A glance around the room found four tables with men at them. All men. Most wore indications that they were seamen and high ranking ones. All were nearer Carrion’s age than his.
A black cauldron hung over a low fire on a swing-arm. A cupboard held fresh bread loaves the size of his fist. His stomach twisted. The girl returned with the ale and wine in stoneware goblets. Tanner said, “We have a room here. Can we go fill a bowl?”
“Then what would they need me for?” she laughed. “Three bowls of stew?”
“Yes. And bread. Do you have anything else?” Tanner said.
“Well, that’s all we have for your meal,” her eyes twinkled, “unless you’re asking about the berry pies we made.”
Tanner glanced at Devlin, who looked almost ill at the mention of the food. “Stew first, but save three slices of pie, please.”
“Lots of bread,” Carrion added.
She hurried off with a wiggle of her backside. Tanner tasted the wine reluctantly. If it was watered at all, it was very little. It held a sweetness on his tongue that he hadn’t ever found in the wines he’d had. Most were bitter and left a sour taste in his mouth. This one was totally different. He gulped more.
“Better take it easy on that,” Carrion warned him.
Three bowls of heavy, dark stew with chunks of meat, barley, turnips, carrots, and onions appeared on the table. The girl raced off to fill a platter with the small loaves of bread, butter, and soft fruit preserves to spread on them. Each bowl held a wood spoon, and it became clear Devlin didn’t know how to use one.
Tanner nudged him under the table and scooped stew into the spoon and softly blew on it to cool. Then he slowly placed the spoon in his mouth. Devlin mimicked his actions until the stew touched his tongue. His eyes came alive. His hand darted to the bowl and scoop more so fast it splashed onto the table. Tanner placed a restraining hand on his wrist and shook his head.
Devlin slowed down. Tanner tore a loaf of bread in half and buttered one side. He splashed some jam on it.
Devlin copied Tanner’s every move. Devlin then had to decide to eat more bread or stew.
Tanner said to him, “The food comes with the room. As much as we want. Eat slow and you can fit more inside you.”
Carrion said, “Ever have pie, Devlin?”
“I don’t know what that is,” Devlin said between mouthfuls.
“Then I suggest you slow down and save some room,” Carrion said, a smile twitching the corners of his mouth.
The conversation in the room was generally soft but broken now and then with laughter. Tanner allowed his ears to pick out distinctive voices and snatches of conversation. He heard a funny story of a cow and hen, funny but hardly believable. A robust man with a voice to match told of an unlikely storm his ship barely survived. Another talked about his family in another port that he missed. But nothing of Breslau, Anterra, or the Marlstones.
Devlin finished off another bowl of stew and more bread. When the serving girl whisked by again, Carrion asked for three slices of pie.
Tanner still listened to conversations at other tables but kept an eye on Devlin. When the pie arrived, the boy waited before taking a bite. He was watching Carrion for guidance. That small act told of his intelligence, and again, Tanner wondered about his future.
Devlin tasted the pie. He looked at both before swallowing. Then he pushed the pie away from himself, an unexpected action that drew their attention more than if he had stuffed the entire slice into his mouth.
Tanner said, “Don’t like it?”
Devlin shook his head.
“Are sweets an acquired taste?” Carrion asked, then turned his attention back to Devlin. “If you don’t like it you don’t have to eat any.”
“I don’t like it. The other was the best food I’ve ever had.”
“You haven’t touched your wine,” Tanner said.
“I’ve seen what wine does to people.”
Tanner shrugged and reached for his mug. “This is mostly water. It won’t do that to you, but the wine keeps you from having stomach problems.”
“What are those?” Devlin asked. After Tanner had explained, Devlin said, “I have to go behind the building.”
“To pee? Tanner asked. “If so, you use the privy out back.”
“I’m not allowed. There’s a public trough for the likes of me by the waterfront.”
Carrion said, “Enough of th
is. You’re with us and if we’re allowed to do something, so are you.”
“Come with me,” Tanner ordered Devlin. As they left the inn, Tanner called, “We’ll be back by dinner.” Like Carrion, he’d seen and heard enough. The boy was treated as if he was invisible. People gave him less attention than a dog unless he tried to be like them. The attitudes the people held, even though Devlin was cleaner and wore better clothing, spilled over to Carrion and himself. It could influence their goals.
Tanner had noticed the nearby shops and stores when they walked past earlier. He went directly to the bathhouse. Devlin hesitated at the door, but Tanner took him by the upper arm and forced him inside. A counter stood in front of a wall lined with doors, and a pretty young woman sat in a chair behind the counter. She leaped to her feet, her eyes locked on Devlin, her face twisting in anger that he would enter.
Before she could spit a word of protest, Tanner opened his fist and allowed two large copper coins to rattle onto the counter. “He needs a bath, hair, and beard trimmed, and nails cleaned and cut. I’ll speak to the owner if I must.”
The girl eyed the coins. “Are you offering two full coppers?”
“If the job is done to my satisfaction and with the courtesy a good customer deserves.”
Her eyes flashed at Devlin, back at the coins and then she smiled. “Of course. Can you tell me how you’d like his hair and beard?”
Two fingers held apart told her. Tanner glanced at Devlin, who was looking at the toes of his new shoes.
She seemed relieved as she nodded vigorously. She waved an arm at one of the doors. “Ready yourself for the bath as the water will be delivered shortly.”
Inside the room stood a wooden tub, on a wooden floor where the boards were intentionally spaced to allow water to run through. Pegs on the wall were for clothing. Another door opened to the rear where buckets of coal stood beside a fire pit. Iron swing arms held buckets of water while heating.
Devlin hadn’t spoken. He acted as skittish as a mistreated puppy. Tanner said, “We are going to talk. First, shuck your clothes and sit in the tub. Here’s how this is will happen. You’ll get washed. Everywhere. Your hair will be cut and your beard trimmed. Your nails probably hurt where they’re split so the girl will trim them.”
